Presently, the forward door opened, and a young man with a very sallow complexion entered. He wore a kind of dark blue jumper, the only semblance of which to a uniform was that its few buttons were of brass. He was twirling his mustache and looked at Tom with very keen eyes.
"Vell, we are not so pad, huh? Ve don'd kill you!"
Tom did not know exactly what to say, so he said, "I got to thank you."
The man motioned to the settee and Tom sat down while he seated himself in one of the swivel chairs.
"Vell, vot's der matter?" he said, seeing Tom shiver.
"I'm wet," said Tom; adding, "but I don't mind it."
The man continued to look at him sharply. His questions were peremptory, short, crisp.
"Yes, sir. I made a kind of a life preserver out of it."
Tom suspected that they had seen him long before he had seen them and that they had watched his struggles in the water.
"I was captain's mess boy. The railing was broke and I never noticed it, so I fell overboard. I don't think anybody else got hurt," he added.
The man twirled his mustache, still with his keen eyes fixed on Tom.
"You bring ofer a lot of droops?" It was a question, but he did not keep his voice raised at the end, as one asking a question usually does. In this sense a German never asks a question. He seemed to be making an announcement and expecting Tom to confirm it.
"I couldn't count them, there were so many."
"This was my first on a transport," said Tom.
"It wasn't Brest," said Tom, "and I ain't supposed to tell you."
"Vell, I ain't supposed to rescue you neither."
"If you'd asked me before you rescued me, even then I wouldn't of told you," said Tom simply.
"Yes, they did," said Tom, feeling very much ashamed and wondering how his questioner knew. Then it occurred to him that this very U-boat had perhaps been watching for the signal light, and it gave him fresh satisfaction to remember that _he_ had perhaps foiled this man who sat there twirling his mustache.
The commander did not pursue this line of inquiry, supposing, perhaps, that a mess boy would not be informed as to such matters, but he catechised Tom about everything else, foiled at every other question by the stolid answer, "I ain't supposed to tell you." And he could not frighten or browbeat or shake anything out of him.