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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, June 01, 1915, LAST EDITION, Image 19',
meta: 'News about Chronicling America - RSS Feed',
Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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The Mariamne was now clearly in
view, listing a little as she rolled in
the troughs. Evidently the presence
of the submarine was entirely un
suspected by her as she made her
way -slowly toward the Cornish coast
It was the bitterness of death for
Von Retzow. During the few minutes
in which the periscope crept up to
ward the Mariamne he lived over
again those days in America, when he
had begun to realize his love for
Lucy anjd her dawning love for him.
Duty had carried him away, but he
had written to her at last, unable to
postpone learning of his fate. He be
lieved she cared for him; he had felt
sure that she was coming to Europe
in the expectation of meeting him.
He had written to her once: "I
would give my life for you. Your life
is ever sacred to me will ever be."
And now, like a cowardly murder
er, he was creeping up on the track of
the vessel that carried her, resolved
to sink her, murder his sweetheart
coldly, deliberately. There could be
no chance of rescue out of the trough
of the Atlantic billows.
"The torpedo is in the launching
tube, sir!" called up his aide from
Von Retzow trembled; he could
not gather voice to answer. He was
not more than half a mile from the
Mariamne now; she was almost
broadside on, and the submarine had
maneuvered herself so that her nose
pointed due along the course that the
torpedo must take to strike.
Von Retzow hesitated. "Then he
heard his voice give the command to
Through the periscope Von Retzow
saw the white track of the torpedo
through the waves as the released air
bubbles came to the surface. Then,
almost immediately, there came the
dull boom of the striking torpedo.
Von Retzow shouted the command
to rise. The submarine came up,
first at the bow, then at the stern.
And, an instant later, the water was
whipped white with plunging shell. ,
The submarine, pierced through and'
through by some unseen assailant,
sank like a stone. -
Von Retzow had been standing
alone upon the bridge. The waves
caused by the destruction of the lit
tle craft sw,ept him into the sea. As
he struck out he saw before him the
broken timbers of the torpedoed craft
and a new British torpedo boat de
stroyer, with guns trained, making
briskly toward him.
He was seen; a boat was lowered,
and, almost at the same time that the
last of the wrecked ship sank beneath
the waves, Vjon Retzow was hauled,
struggling fitfully for breath, aboard
the rescuing boat by the crew. -A
few minutes later he stood before the
commander of the little torpedo boat
"I am sorry, sir. The fortune of
war, you know," said the young of
ficer, rather sheepishly, stretching
his hand to Von Retzow.
"Will you come into my cabin?"
he added, leading the way. "You are
of course, paroled during the short
voyage to England. I bejieve we can
'make you comfortable dry, at any
rate," he said.
In the cabin Von Retzow still looked
fixedly at the other.
"Are you not going to hang me,"
The British officer protested feebly.
"Listen," said Von Retzow. "I will
tell you something to show you what
duty means to us German officers.
The woman I love andexpected to
marry was aboard the Mariamne. TI
was ordered to sink her and I sank
her, according to my instructions.
But I tell you that it will haunt me
for the rest of my days."
To his amazement the young Eng
lish officer, who had been regarding
him with an expression decidedly
quizzical, interposed laughingly:
"I may as well relieve your mind,"
he said. "The Mariamne was awaie
of your amiable intentions and slipped
in by another route yesterday. The
old tramp that you torpedoed was a
decoy Mariamne. She hadn't a soul
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