As Leutnant Voss came over the side and reported to Lauterbach, the latter correctly presented him to Captain and Mrs. Robinson. Voss clicked his heels as any proper German would, and bowed slightly to each. Probably because he was more sensitive than usual to such things, he was quick to notice the woman's expression of distaste and the way she shrank slightly away.
"Haf no alarm, madame," he told her in his thick German English. "Mein own wife from Australia wass!"
Lettice Robinson crimsoned. She had not meant to hurt his feelings. It was just that he was so—so ugly. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, trying to make amends, but only floundering. "I mean—this cruel war! Where is she now?"
"She is in Tsingtao, madame," he said. "When we left, she wass there. Now I haf no way to know."
"Oh!" Lettice Robinson's hand touched her lips. "I am sorry!"
But Voss had already turned away toward the Captain. Obviously it was a thing he did not care to discuss. "Herr Kapitan," he said, "Kapitan von Mueller says that he regrets he must you detain. But he says also that no harm will come to you or your family. Obey signals and what you are told do. He will see that you are safe."
Harry Robinson lifted his lip sardonically. "Thank you," he replied. "Wot else'd I do, Leftenant?"
Voss looked at Lauterbach blankly. The accent was entirely different from the Australian English Trudy had taught him.
Lauterbach chuckled. "Good enough, Rudi," he said in German. "They understand! Now, if vou'll bring your men around to relieve mine for a bit, I'll take you topside and explain things. After that we can spell one another on the bridge."
When they were above once more, in the chartroom, Lauterbach put his hand on his companion's arm. "Cheer up, Rudi. The war can't last forever."
"Thanks, Conrad." Voss looked grim. "That's true. But forgive me for reminding you, neither can we!"
"At least it's an even race," said Lauterbach.
After they had finished, Lauterbach went down to the officers' saloon in search of some breakfast. Sleepy though he was, he was even more hungry. The English steward apparently entertained some scruples about serving their German captors—"giving aid an' comfort to the enemy," he called it—and even the ship's officers preferred to remain aloof, which was perfectly acceptable to Lauterbach. In like circumstances he would do the same. But the Captain's wife was there when he entered.
"Oh, 'ullo there, Captain," she greeted him. Apparently she had reconciled herself to the situation. "Can I get you something? A dish of tea, maybe—or some beer? Our coffee's not much, you know. 'Ow about some crumpets and kippers— and a bit of cheese, per'aps? All you Dutchies like cheese for breakfast, I've 'eard."
"No, thank you, Mrs. Robinson," said Lauterbach. "Cheese is for your true Dutchmen—Hollanders. I am German. But I will take some of that tea, and toast or a crumpet with marmalade or jam—and if you have it, a little bacon?"
"Of course!" she replied. "It's all ready. 'Ere! Sit down at the table. I'll fetch it for you."
"Thank you," he said when she brought it from the galley. "You see, we're not so outlandish, after all. We're just men— sometimes hungry, always tired. What did you think of our Leutnant Voss?" He could not have said what imp had produced him to ask the question.
"Leftenant—Oh, 'im!" she replied with a grimace. "Isn't 'e ugly, though? Fair gave me a turn, 'e did, when 'e first come on board."
"He's no beauty," Lauterbach smiled, "but he has a great, good heart. You need fear no harm from him."
"Poor chap!" she exclaimed. "I do 'ope I didn't 'urt 'is feelings any."
"Hurt his feelings?" Lauterbach cocked one eyebrow at her as he lifted his steaming cup.
"Yes," she said. "Remindin' 'im of 'is wife, and all."
"You may believe it or not, Mrs. Robinson," he laughed, "but Frau Voss is a singularly beautiful girl."
"You're not serious!" She put down her teacup incredulously. "You don't mean it!"
"But I do!" he assured her.
"Then why—" She checked herself. "It's none of my business, of course!"
"But you are curious?"
"Not really, you know." She flushed slightly. "But you can tell 'e loves 'er. I could see that in 'is eves."
"He does." Lauterbach nodded. "He idolizes her—far more than she deserves. But who are we to criticize? I wish I could tell you that his feeling for her was returned, but I'm afraid that would not be true. Perhaps by now she has come to appreciate his real worth, but in the beginning I think she was influenced by the fact that her life in Sydney was not especially happy—"
"It must've been ruddy awful for 'er to marry someone that looks like 'im to get away from it!"
"It probably was" —Lauterbach nodded again—"though, of course, the fact that he is also one of the wealthiest men in the world might have had something to do with it."
She gajjed at him. "Now you are 'avin' me on!" she exclaimed.
"I'm not. I give you my word, Mrs. Robinson."
"Then wot—Then why—" she sputtered.
"Is he here?" he offered.
"Yes, why?" she insisted. " 'E's got a wife 'e loves. 'E's got money enough to get out of 'arms way and let both of 'em live safe and easy. Now wot's 'e doing off 'ere in this godforsaken corner of the world, 'olding up poor pinchpenny traders who are only trying to make an 'onest livin'? Is 'e that greedy?"
Lauterbach held up his hand. "Just a moment, Mrs. Robinson!" he protested. "Let's be fair. You know as well as I do that greed has nothing to do with it. So far as this ship is concerned, he could buy a dozen like it out of petty cash and not even miss it! It just happens that being born to wealth, he wanted to make more of his life than just a round of tennis and polo and society. Because he was serious about such things, he entered the Navy and accepted what came his way without hope or expectancy of favor. When war came between your country and ours, he might have exerted his influence to avoid dangerous service. But like a good officer and an honest gentleman, he chose to scorn his advantage, and where his ship was ordered he went. He did not ask for the duty. He did not refuse it when the orders came. He accepted what came his way. You cannot criticize him for that."
"No-o-o," Mrs. Robinson conceded. "So far as that goes, I daresay you're right. But 'is wife, Captain Lauterbach! Wot about 'er? Wouldn't you think 'e'd stay back for 'er sake?"
"Do you think so?" Lauterbach smiled cryptically. "Wasn't it one of your own English poets who said, 'I could not love thee, dear, so much, Lov'd I not honour more?'"
"AAaar!" Lettice Robinson snorted. "That's—"
Lauterbach waved his finger at her. "That is the attitude of many men in your own Army and Navy. It was behind your husband's remark to you yesterday when he snarled at you. We are men, too, fighting for our Fatherland; obeying the orders we receive—thinking always of those who have been left on shore, worrying for their safety and still concerned for their grief if harm comes to us! Leutnant Voss is only one of hundreds so troubled in the Emden alone. Multiply his anxiety by that of all the rest, in the fleet and in the armies, and you will have some notion that we, too, are not just animals; we, too, have more than just a distant bit of land at stake."
The Captain's wife looked almost as though she might dispute the point. "That's all true, I daresay," she replied. "But 'ow about you, Captain?"
"Me?" Lauterbach was startled. "What do you mean, Madame. I am an orphan—and a bachelor! What happens to me is of concern to no one."
"Ah, come now! There must be someone!"
"Not a single living soul!" Lauterbach assured her cheerfully. "And I consider myself lucky."
Nevertheless, when he finally turned in he could not help thinking of Caroline Grey, and wondering where she was and how she fared. All the problems, certainly, had not been left behind!