“So,” continued Lord Hastings, eyeing the two lads angrily.  “I have you, eh.  I would like to put a hole through each of you myself.”  He half drew a revolver.

The German commander interfered.

“None of that, if you please, sir,” he commanded sharply.  “They shall have trial; and if they are convicted, as I have no doubt they will be, I shall bestow upon you the doubtful honor of performing the execution.”

“And I shall be pleased indeed, sir,” replied Lord Hastings with a leer.

The German commander turned from him in disgust.

“It is such men as you, who are a disgrace to the navy,” he said quietly.

“Sir!” exclaimed Lord Hastings, facing the German in apparent wrath, though nothing could have pleased him better—­things were working out much better than he had dared hope.

“Tut!  Tut!” exclaimed the German commander.  “I have no time to quarrel with you now.  But when the war is over, it will give me much pleasure to put an end to one of your ilk.”

“I shall remember that!” exclaimed Lord Hastings.  “You shall answer to me, sir.”

“When the war is over, I shall be very much at your service,” was the quiet rejoinder.  “But now to business.  Prisoners, you may all stand up together.  Your name?” he demanded of Jack.

“Templeton, sir,” replied the lad quietly.

“And yours, sir?” demanded the German of Frank.

“Chadwick, sir.”

The German turned to Davis.

“Davis, sir,” replied the man before the German could propound the question.

“Have any of you prisoners anything to say in extenuation of your actions?”

There was no reply.

“No reason why the death sentence should not be passed upon you?” continued the German.

Still there was no reply.

The German commander then explained what he knew of the three and called for a vote.

“Commander Derndorff?”

“Death!” was the response.

“Commander Hellwig?”

“Death!”

“Commander Berne?”

“Death!”

“Commander Blough?”

“Death!”

“Commander Bernstorff?”

Lord Hastings’ response was louder than the rest and he smiled evilly as he cried: 

“Death!”

The German commander who had captured the lads made a grimace but said nothing.

He paused a moment and then declared quietly: 

“My verdict also is death!”

Lord Hastings, apparently, could restrain his impatience no longer.

“Good!  Good!” he cried.

“The sentence of this court martial,” continued the German commander unheeding Lord Hastings, “is that the prisoners all be shot at sunrise tomorrow.  Commander Bernstorff, since you are so eager to perform the disagreeable duty, you may command the execution; and that your men may think the less of you, as president of this court martial, I order you to choose the firing squad from among your own crew.”