"Thank you, Herr Kapitan," Bunte murmured.
"That's not all," von Mueller continued. "The Governor felt it best, under the circumstances, to get Use and her mother away to some safer place than Tsingtao. Accordingly, he sent them out by rail to Shanghai. So what is to be done? Naturally, we could not put in there even if we were not under orders to steam in an entirely different direction. Neutral as it is, that port is virtually a British stronghold. If we ventured into that trap, the exit would be instantly blocked by at least four English cruisers, and there we would sit. They would like nothing better!"
"I understand, Kapitan," said Bunte unhappily.
"However," von Mueller went on, "there are some thing's we can do."
Bunte looked up quickly, his expression changing swiftly from a look of deep despair to a smile of hope. "What is that?" he cried.
"First," von Mueller replied, "I asked—perhaps insisted would be a better word—the Governor to write to his daughter, not her mother, and explain his understanding of the situation."
"God bless you for that, Kapitan!" the boy exclaimed.
"I suggest that you knock off work now and write to her yourself," the Captain added. "If you can let me have the letter within an hour, I can include it in my final dispatches to the Governor with a special request that he forward it to her for you."
"Thank you, Kapitan! I will see to it immediately!"
When he was gone, von Mueller turned to von Muecke. *T talked with her, Helmuth," he said simply.
For a moment the exec was startled out of his usual imperturbability. "She's well? She's safe?" he demanded eagerly.
Von Mueller smiled sympathetically. "You've no reason to believe otherwise, Helmuth," he said. "And as a matter of fact, she is perfectly well."
"Did she—" von Muecke began, then caught himself up short. "I'm sorry, Karl! I should be better able to control myself than a wet Subleutnant."
Von Mueller laughed outright. "In your state, Helmuth, anything is understandable. It needs no apology. Yes. Of course she asked about you, and I gave her the same reassurance that I have given you. Naturally, it was impossible to let her come here. Nor is it possible to give you the time necessary to go and see her."
"I understand that, Karl," said von Muecke seriously. "There's still a hell of a lot of work to be done here."
"Exactly! I'm glad you understand. So I gave her the advice that I thought you would want me to give—"
"Which was?"
"To put it simply, 'Get out of Tsingtao.' I told her this was not a safe place for her, as things are now, and suggested that she get away to Shanghai or Peking. To help her cross die lines, I gave her a note to the Governor, explaining her situation and suggesting that he give her such passes as she might need."
Von Muecke sighed heavily. "Thanks, Karl," he said. "That's a relief."
"In parring," von Mueller went on, "I suggested that after this is over we must all try to get together."
"We will, Karl!" Von Muecke laughed. "I guarantee it! We will!"
"Don't let your exuberance carry you away, Helmuth," the Captain warned. "Remember, there's still a war to be fought, and God alone knows how long that will take, when it's over—if we all live through it, yes—we'll meet. Until then, though, there's work to do!"
II
THE LITTLE CLOUD
August 1914
"Behold, there ariseth a little cloud out of the sea . . ."
1 Kings, 18:44
The shrill, insistent clangor of the telephone on the Captain's desk was timed perfectly. Von Muecke rose and departed. Von Mueller picked up the instrument and replied, "Kapitan von Mueller!"
"Officer of the deck here, Herr Kapitan," came the response. "You asked to be notified when Herman Schultz came aboard. He is arriving now, with his suitcase and his wife—and a cat."
"A what?" von Mueller exploded.
"Exactly, sir—a cat!"
"God in heaven!" von Mueller exclaimed. "I'll be right up!"
It was true enough, he discovered when he reached the quarterdeck. At the head of the gangway stood the stalwart Herman, dressed in his best Sunday suit—a shiny black serge to which he clung obstinately, despite the fact that comfortable and well-tailored linen suits could be had for a song along the China coast. On his head was a high-crowned black bowler, which looked ridiculously small against his curly blond hair and his immense blond mustachios. In one hand he held a bulging suitcase, obviously packed for any emergency, while under his other arm he carried a large tawny tabby cat. Squarely at his elbow stood stocky Hildegarde, and apparently they had been having some words with the officer of the deck, for both their faces were red and belligerent.
"You have decided to come with us, Herman?" von Mueller greeted him.
"Ja, Herr Kapitan," the big cook responded dubiously. "But on one condition only."
Von Mueller raised his eyebrows slightly, amused rather than irritated. It was unusual, to say the least, for a ship's cook to be making terms to the ship's Captain, but in the circumstances much could be overlooked.
"Conditions, Herman?" he demanded. "What are they?" Herman's jaw set stubbornly. "That my Tabitha cat comes along with, Kapitan!"
Von Mueller looked thoughtful, careful to show neither outrage nor amusement. "Well, I don't know, Herman," he replied seriously. "Are you sure you want her here? Do you think a fighting ship, like this, is quite a fit place for a cat in time of war?"
"She is good kitty, Kapitan," Herman pleaded. "She will not get in the way. She will live well on the scraps, and she will be a—something to keep me reminded of home and Hilde."
Von Mueller glanced at him quickly. That last, it seemed to him, made more sense than anything else. It accounted for the man's stubborn reluctance to leave the animal behind. To Herman the cat was a link with all that he was leaving. To the Captain it hardly seemed too great a price to pay for the undoubted benefits of the man's own presence aboard.
"Very well, Herman," he said. "Since you feel so strongly about it, bring her along. The ship has no other mascot. She might well become just such a pet to the rest of us. I warn you, however. You must take care of her yourself, and you must particularly keep her out of the way of the ship's operation. Don't let her get underfoot—especially when action stations are called. You understand that?"
Herman threw a triumphant look at the officer of the deck. "I understand it. In the galley will be her action station!"
"Good!" said von Mueller. "Then welcome aboard, Herman. I speak for every officer in the mess when I say that we are touched as well as honored to have you with us. You know where your quarters are. Take your gear down and get settled in. Better lock Tabby in for the time being—"
"On her feet, Herman, put butter," Hilde interrupted. "She will not wander."
Von Mueller smiled at her. "I don't think she'll wander far once we've put to sea, Frau Schultz. When you've done that, Herman, to the galley. All the officers have been working hard and undoubtedly have mighty appetites. Our orders are for an early sailing, and I want to get everyone fed before we cast off, for there will be plenty of work for all for several hours after we get under way."
"Zum Befehl, Herr Kapitan!" Herman replied smartly, and von Mueller chuckled. The man might be a civilian technically, but he took his navy duties seriously.
As is usually the way whenever there is important work to be done, there was hardly enough time to complete it. Even with each man concentrating on his own specified sphere, the minutes ticked by too rapidly. To Karl von Mueller, whose primary task was that of completing final administrative details, twelve hours seemed scarcely sufficient to carry out all his various duties ashore and afloat. A number of ships were to accompany the Emden —the large collier Elsbeth and the former liners Staatssekretar Kratke and Markomannia, all three of which had been converted to combination coal carriers and supply ships; the big, fast Nordeutscher Lloyd liner Prinz Eitel Friedrich, which had been turned into an auxiliary cruiser; and several other smaller colliers. As senior officer present von Mueller had to make sure of their readiness for sea and relay their specific sailing orders to them. Since the former first officer of the Kratke seemed unsure of himself, von Mueller ordered Lauterbach to resume command of that ship as far as the rendezvous, where it would be for the Admiral to decide whether or not to replace him.