All that day and through the night that followed, the Emden and her companions steamed at dead slow speed, virtually hove to, maintaining only enough forward movement to keep steerageway. For the first twelve hours or so of the gale they bore generally east by north, heading out into the Bay of Bengal, away from the main steamer tracks out of Calcutta. When dusk fell. Captain von Mueller reversed the procedure and bore back again, west by north, toward the coast of India.
This was not exactly as he would have planned it, but that was a matter beyond his control. Since they could not transfer their prisoners until the gale abated, it was wise to stand wide of possible observation by any casual passers-by. Such a motley collection of shipping as they now had under their wing, especially when shepherded by an unidentified man-of-war, would be certain to result in an alarm and the possible loss of all their gains. Moreover, the men could do with a bit of rest, especially if, as he surmised, the wind and seas abated during the night. Tomorrow was Sunday, but unless he was wrong there would be little time for its observance. Very well, then! Let them take today for the Sabbath, and tomorrow there would be work enough for all.
He was quite right, as it proved. Toward sunset the wind began to fall, and by midnight the skies had cleared and the stars and the moon were out. By dawn even the long swell had spent itself, and the sun rose above a copper-burnished sea on which the ships rode scarcely moving, the thin smoke vapor rising from their funnels almost straight into the air.
"It's going to be hot," commented von Muecke.
"It is!" von Mueller agreed. "All the more reason for getting started early."
"What's the program?"
"We'll have to sink the Killin" replied the Captain, thinking aloud.
"And let all that coal go?" von Muecke protested.
"What choice have we?" von Mueller shrugged. "The coal in the Greek is of the same quality, and there is more of it. We cannot sink the Greek without becoming liable to the Greek Government for the value of the ship, and possibly for damages as well—to say nothing of the risk of stirring up yet another small hornet's nest. At the same time, we cannot release her, since the coal she carries is consigned to the Indian Government, and it is our duty to see that it does not fall into their hands. We have not time to jettison. Hence we must keep the Fontoporros afloat until we have time to transfer her cargo to our own bunkers. Killin, on the other hand, is an English ship with an Indian cargo. We can, and should, sink both together."
"I suppose you're right." Von Muecke looked unhappy. "But it seems a shame."
"If we had a place to transship it," von Mueller replied, "we would but we can't risk coaling operations here. She'll have to go. Never mind, Helmuth! There will be others."
"I hope so!" replied von .Muecke fervently.
That set the pattern. The boats of both Killin and Kabinga were put to use, unloading the former. All of her stores and as much of her water as possible were first carried over, after which the entire crew was removed and she was combed for anything of value to the Emden. She was then left to the demolition crew; the charges were set well below water line and sea cocks opened.
She sank promptly at ten in the morning.
Aboard the Kabinga, Lettice Robinson shivered as she and her husband and Lauterbach and Voss watched.
"Wot's the matter with you?" her husband growled.
"Such a waste! Oh, why such a waste?" she whispered.
Lauterbach glanced at Rudi Voss. "Her crew are all on board here, are they not, Herr Leutnant?"
"Ja, Herr Kapitan!" Voss replied.
"And all such supplies as they may need?"
"Ja," Voss repeated.
"Then there is no more that we can do here," Lauterbach said. "As you see, my recall is signaled. You will take charge here, Leutnant Voss, until further orders." He turned abruptly to Captain and Mrs. Robinson. "I'm sorry we've been such an inconvenience, but at least you have your ship and your cargo. Just follow Leutnant Voss's orders, and you will find that everything will work out all right in the end."
As he shook hands with Captain Robinson, the Englishman looked more cheerful. "It's 'ard lines, being stopped at all," he said. "But since it 'ad to be, I must say, I'm as well pleased it was by gentlemen like yourselves."
"Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Lauterbach," his wife added. "We'll not soon forget it. I 'ope the Lord'll keep watch over you."
Back aboard the Emden, Lauterbach went directly to the conning tower to report the completion of his mission.
Von Mueller nodded when he was finished. "Very tactfully done, Conrad," he remarked. "I hope you had an opportunity for some rest while you were there."
"More than I have here," Lauterbach replied. "In fact, after Rudi came over yesterday we were able to take turn and turn about at it. Why?"
Von Mueller looked away toward the northern horizon. "Because unless I miss my guess," he said, "we'll have more work of the same sort before long."
Lauterbach followed the direction of his gaze. Seeming to spring from the sea itself, at the very edge where sky and water met, a tall column of smoke thrust like a bony finger into the sultry air. The source was vet far out of sight, but there was no doubt that it was a steamship. Moreover, it was equally evident that she was headed in their direction.
"It could be a warship," Lauterbach commented.
"It could be," von Mueller agreed. "In any case, we shall have to deal with her—and that means more work for you."
"I'm not worn out, if that's what you mean!" Lauterbach retorted.
"I only wanted to be sure," von Mueller replied. "Was everything under control on the Kabinga? Voss has matters securely in hand?"
"Thoroughly," Lauterbach replied. "And Klopper is ferrying over the prisoners from the Markomannia."
"We'd best halt that for the time being," von Mueller mused. "If you please, Mr. Schall, by flag signaclass="underline" To the Markomannia, 'Suspend all operations for the present.' To all ships: 'Stand by. Be prepared to disperse on signal. Observe wire silence.' "
The other ships responded promptly, acknowledging receipt of the message. The Emden came up in a sharp quarter circle.
Von Mueller nodded to the officer of the watch. "Very good, Herr Schall," he said. "Now let's have full ahead."
The engine-room telegraph jangled, and the Emden seemed to squat on her haunches for an instant before leaping forward under the full thrust of her powerful screws.
At nearly thirty knots the distance between the two ships diminished rapidly. Within a quarter of an hour they could make out the stranger's masts and superstructure.
"Another merchantman," Lauterbach remarked. A slight note of disappointment crept into his voice in spite of himself.
"Soon enough! Soon enough, Conrad, we'll catch a Tartan and be forced to fight for our living." Von Mueller grinned. "In the meantime this is pure duty—to harass and disrupt the enemy's shipping to such an extent that he is obliged to divert a large part of his naval force to protect his sea lanes. As long as we can do that, we will keep him on the defensive."
The stranger proved to be the British S/S Diplomat, 7615 tons, from Calcutta for Liverpool with ten thousand tons of tea. Her crew was removed to the Kabinga, and the sinking party went to work. She was settling rapidly when yet another smoke was sighted, bearing up from the south and east.
"This is becoming monotonous!" Lauterbach grumbled as he stared glumly at the distant wispy column.
"I can think of pleasanter duties," von Muecke agreed.
If he heard them Captain von Mueller gave no sign.
The new stranger made no attempt to avoid them, probably because her Captain knew that he had already been sighted and that his own top speed could not possibly match theirs. She turned out to be only a medium-sized, bumbling ocean tramp, with rust-streaked sides and peeling paint. Indeed, the only things extraordinary about her at first glance were the wireless she carried—not a usual piece of equipment in vessels of her class at that date—and her single, tall, spindling funnel, which seemed recently to have received a fresh coat of dark green paint topped by a broad band of red.