But one of the sailors was
aroused each time by the noise, and looked in through a
barred window, so they had to give it up. Slowly the night
passed, and morning found the prisoners pale, tired and
discouraged. They were brought up on deck again, for which
they were thankful, as in that tropical climate it was
stifling below.
During the day they saw Admiral Fanchetti and several of
his officers pay a visit to the submarine. They went below
through the opened conning tower, and were gone some time.
"I hope they don't disturb any of the machinery," remarked
Mr. Swift. "That could easily do great damage."
Admiral Fanchetti seemed much pleased with himself when he
returned from his visit to the submarine.
"You have a fine craft," he said to the prisoners. "Or,
rather, you had one. My government now owns it. It seems a
pity to shoot such good boat builders, but you are too
dangerous to be allowed to go."
If there had been any doubt in the minds of Tom and his
friends that the sentence of the court-martial was only for
effect, it was dispelled that day. A firing squad was told
off in plain view of them, and the men were put through
their evolutions by Lieutenant Drascalo, who had them load,
aim and fire blank cartridges at an imaginary line of
prisoners.
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