Von Weissman was in the wardroom. I watched him unobserved. He was
humming a tune to himself and had just completed putting a green dot on
the chart. This done he lay back on the settee and closed his
eyes--strange, insoluble man!
For long hours I could not forget that whaler; I see it now as I write.
I suppose I shall get used to it all. What would Zoe say?
The most wonderful thing about man is that he can stand the strain of
his own invention of modern war!
* * * * *
I am rather tired to-night, but must just jot down briefly what has
taken place to-day, as there is never any time in the daylight hours.
Soon after dawn, at about 8 a.m., we sighted a fair-sized steamer of
about 3,000 tons, which we sunk, but I cannot say what she looked like,
or whether anyone escaped, as we never came to the surface at all, Von
Weissman sighting smoke on the western horizon just as he hit her. We
accordingly steered in that direction. However, I think she went almost
at once as Von Weissman put a dot (black) on the chart as we made
towards number 3.
I very much wanted to know whether there were any survivors, but I did
not like to ask him at the time and he has been in such an infernal
temper ever since that I haven't had a suitable opportunity.
The cause of his rage was as follows:
Steamer number 3 turned out to be a fine fat chap (of the Clan Line,
Von Weissman said, when we first sighted her). We moved in to attack
and fired our port bow tube.
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