The men rumbled out and ran barefoot to their stations. Officers slipped quickly into place and stood by their communicators. Gropius' thumb was scarcely off the button before von Mueller's voice spoke at his elbow,
"What is it, Heinrich? You have raised something?"
"Dead ahead, Herr Kapitan," Gropius replied, "a steamer with lights—unidentified. Apparently she is not aware of presence yet, I have ordered Leutnant von Guerard to jam any signals she may try to send."
"Good work!" replied von Mueller. It was his own responsibility, of course, but it was always a relief to know that matters were properly ordered on the bridge before he arrived.
He leveled his glasses on the lights ahead. "We'll overhaul on her port side," he said. "Alert the forward battery, starboard, to stand by to lire a blank first, then a live charge if she fails to stop. Have the duty signalman stand by at the wing of the bridge to transmit by blinker, and ask Oberleutnant Lauterbach to sway out the number-three boat and muster his boarding party for immediate action."
Von Mueller turned to study the stranger. Clearly she was no man-o-war since she was ablaze with light. Neither could she be a large ship, to judge from the distance between her masthead and stem lights. Probably, he thought, only some ocean tramp. Still, she was a prize, and any prize was what they needed just now, if only for the sake of morale.
But even after all this it almost seemed that Dame Fortune was laughing up her sleeve. The stranger hove to at the first blank shot that stabbed at her out of blackness of the night.
The Emden's boat swung down swiftly, and the boat's crew and armed boarding party, under command of Conrad Lauterbach, tumbled over the side. There was a long pause while I they headed out across the black heaving water and clambered up the stranger's side. Then presently from the other ship's bridge came the blinkered signaclass="underline"
Greek Fontoporros . . .
Karl von Mueller, watching through his glasses, felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach. It couldn't be! It was unfair. Under international law, the Greek must be let go—unless . . . Well, the chances were slim that she was carrying contraband. Under the same international law, neutrals were under obligation not to reveal the position of belligerent warships as they were met. In that respect von Mueller had to admit that the Dutch they had encountered had been scrupulous. But this Greek might not be so fair. In spite of himself von Mueller shared the Nordic's mistrust of all Mediterranean peoples.
The blinker was going again on the Fontoporros bridge:
Calcutta for Bombay [read the message]. Lading 6500 tons Calcutta coal for British Government.
Von Mueller's heart bounded. Coal for the Indian Government! That at least was contraband and confiscable under the rules of war. Swiftly he dictated his reply, and the signalman blinked the message back to the waiting Greek:
Cargo contraband, should be transshipped or jettisoned. No opportunity here for either. Must (1) sink ship and cargo and abide by court decision later or (2) commandeer carrier and cargo until opportunity offers to transfer cargo and release ship to neutral service. Suggest charter Pontoporros at expense of German Government, to accompany Emden until such time as transfer feasible and release of vessel possible. Same terms as offered by British charterers. Answer.
There was a long span of waiting, and von Mueller could sense the impatience of the men who lined the rails under the bridge. Nearly an hour passed before the signal came back from the Greek:
Accepted.
"Secure all stations, Herr Gropius," von Mueller said. "Maintain strict watch. Ask Oberleutnant Lauterbach to report to me at once, leaving first subordinate in command. Fontoporros to join Markomannia in convoy. Understood?"
"Understood, Herr Kapitan!" replied Gropius promptly.
When Lauterback came back on board and reported the Greek Captain's acceptance, his account was almost comical.
"I told him he had a choice," he said, "sink now or be paid later. He waved his hands. 'Who am I?' he asked. 'A Greek neutral!' 'But you carry contraband cargo for the British,' I pointed out, 'so we can sink you if we must. But you wouldn't like that.' 'Oh, no, no!' he cried with a lift of his shoulders and spread of his hands. 'Let us gamble! If your government will guarantee my charter, what difference does it make to me? The cargo was English, but now you claim it. You want me to carry it, and guarantee the regular charter rates. How can I refuse?' "
"A sensible man." Von Mueller chuckled. "Just make sure he cannot send out an alarm. Dismantle his wireless. The simple removal of a single part should be enough."
"As you suggest, Kapitan!" Lauterbach saluted and turned way.
The Greek Captain proved thoroughly co-operative. He was a blocky man with great black mustachios and black, sharp eyes, and he made it clear that it mattered little to him who paid the charter of his ship—so long as he got his money. As for the cargo, he was paid only to carry it. Who claimed it was no affair of his. But, for the time being, von Mueller felt, it would be safer for Lauterbach and his prize crew to remain aboard.
The Greek had scarcely fallen in abeam the Markomannia before another steamer's smoke was sighted on the northern horizon. Since the stranger was bearing down directly toward them, Emden dropped back, behind her two consorts, and the newcomer came on confidently, tranquilly assured, apparently, that there could be no enemy warships in these seas. When the time came, the Emden pushed out past the Markomannia and the Pontoporros and fired a blank shot. The stranger's confusion was evident, but she halted and obeyed the Emden's instructions to the letter. It was not necessary' to jam her signals. She sent none.
The Emden's boat, with a prize crew under command of Hans von Levetzow and Vizesteuermann Meyer, swung out and bounced across the tumbling seas to the waiting captive. Presently a flag signalman waved the message from the stranger's bridge:
S/S Indus, British, 3413 tons, Calcutta to Bombay, under charter to Indian Government as troop carrier. Cargo, horses, livestock, ship tools, parts, and soap.
Half the crew of the Emden recognized the signal and sent up a spontaneous cheer.
Helmuth von Muecke glanced at Karl von Mueller and grinned.
''These English! They are so clean! We should thank them tor that. You'd better go over and be sure of it, Helmuth" said von Mueller. "Take a sorting crew and several boat rescue whatever is of value, especially all the soap."
"They spoke of horses," said von Aluecke tentatively.
Von Mueller's jaw set. "They say the French eat horse meat he replied. "So do dogs. We don't yet! I'm afraid you II have to take your pistol and kill the animals as you find them. We've no room for them on board the Emden The ship must be sunk. I am sorry for them, but it cannot be helped. At least we will be taking no human lives. Have the crew transferred to the Markomannia's prisoners' quarters. Let no one be hurt if it can possibly be avoided."
"Jawohl, Herr Kapitan," von Muecke responded, and turned away.
Apparently their luck had changed with the taking of bidus. Here was a prize worth cruising for. Besides the soap so needed on board the Emden, there were uncounted other Items of dire need. There were towels, linens, tinned foods, fresh meat, live hens and ducks, drinks, nautical instruments, charts, pencils, and oilskins—which last were especially necessary at the moment. Everything movable, including casks of fresh water and even lifeboats, was taken to be released at far distant points. But the hardest part came last—the horses. Among them was one particularly fine animal, obviously a race horse.