A little ripple of pleasure ran through the assembled crew at the thought of stretching their legs ashore. But von Mueller held up his hand.
"Just a moment!" he cautioned, "I appreciate your eagerness to step on land once more, I understand your feeling in regard to the work we have so far been called upon to do— and I cannot say to you that we will not be called upon to do more of the same. However, I give you my word that the sort of action we all hoped for when we became part of His Majesty's Navy will be forthcoming if we do our part If we shirk such drudgery as lies behind—and still faces us—then we may never be more than we have been. I think our luck lies in our own acceptance of what we are called upon to do. 'Fortune favors the brave,' it is said, and bravery is not alone counted in deeds of spectacular daring. Bravery is a willingness to face oblivion; to die unknown—for what we believe to be right. Hoch! Der Kaiser!"
"Hoch! . . . Hoch! . . . Hoch!"
They responded, but the response was a formal one. They were clearly suspicious. Small beads of sweat stood out on von Mueller's upper lip. He must make them understand!
"Tomorrow we will steam into Diego Garcia at sunrise. So far as we know, there is no wireless communication between these islands and India or Mauritius. In fact, their only communication with the outside world is by sea. We do not know, however, what news they may have received since the outbreak of war. We do not know what installations the British may have set up—for these islands are British. Therefore we'll approach with caution. Action stations will be called at dawn, and I will expect every man to be prepared for any resistance that may be offered. However, if—and it is entirely possible—we meet with no resistance, we will offer none. We will make use of the harbor. We will do our work in the bay. But we will keep our distance as courteously as if peace existed. There is work for us to do, and—let me again remind you that these are enemy waters—there will be no shore leave: I repeat no shore leave!"
He could sense the growl of disappointment that ran through his audience, and nodded sharply. "I understand, lads!" he said. "'When the work is done, we'll all have fun: But first we have to live that long!' If we're to do what's ex-
............
There was a moment of silence. Then the voice of Bootsmann Mueller spoke from the crowded deck below. "We understand, Herr Kapitan! You may depend upon us"
"Thank you, Mueller," replied the Captain. "Now get all
.......
The hot red rim of the sun slid up over the edge of a molten sea into a sticky tropical day.... The ,-.U li^ht chased he shadows of the night away to the west L JcL7Z, If its low ^r "nt 'n'"'.' ^'^" ^'^ P"^P'^ ^'^f- -^ fo'd Its lungT ' ' "'"^ '*^' ^^'P ^"^ multishaded green of
Not until then did the alarm gongs sound through the lenn fhedeT"' TV^' P'^ "^ ^"P^-^^^^^ ^"-^^-^ whisper oer One h '"^ ^i'"'".;^' '^^^^^^' ^'^^'^"^^h the passageways
S.rl.Vh''"' '"^ '^^^'^>' '^' ^^^^^^1 °ffi-^^^ in change reported their stations: ^-
"Number-one battery—ready!" "Number-two battery—ready!" "Port and starboard blisters—ready'"
h.v^?' l^'^^'V^P^^^ flat-engine room-boilers-sick bay—wireless—all ready'"
"Very Good ^"^"^\"«'^^^^ '- the officer of the watch. Very good, Kapitanleutnant; you may stand in. Be sure the men understand. This is not a drill!"
h Jk^ ^'"fu ''"""^ '^"^ ^'^"^ ^°^^^^ the sun and pointed her battered bows toward the opening in the outer reef^
rhr K'" u"^'"^ '^"^'^ ^'^'^ ^^^ f« be expected. They slid in through a channel where the water was so clear that the leadsman in the chains was hardly needed. Inside the reef they bore through a wide lane marked by red and green painted oil drums-much cheaper than regulation buoys but as serviceable-to the opening of the main channel into the lagoon, circled by the embracing arms of the island.
As they slipped into the channel the tension mounted, for who could tell what preparations had been made to receive
tlf ^'TX^""'^^' ^'''' ^^^" ''' ^« ^°--^ the channel be may mined. Other guns might have been placed around the bay, ready to counter such an invasion. Silently the English might have built a minor base here with a sufficiently powerful wireless to reach Mauritius and Australasian channels. But no sound of transmission had been intercepted.
Yet the silence did not mean necessarily that there was none. They continued to stand tense and alert.
But no shots came. On either side the narrowing shores of the winding channel grew dark as a tunnel for a moment, then opened to a dusky, misty passage through which they could see a passage winding to a strand of dawnlit water and a palm-rimmed basin.
The shadows faded under the simmering sun. The dusk vanished ashore, and the shade of the green palms grew inviting, but there was still no sign of what to expect.
Von Muecke swept the quiet shore line with his glasses once more, then turned to von Mueller. "We'd have heard from them by now if they had anything to say."
"I think you're right," von Mueller replied. "Swing up in a half circle. We'll come to anchor at the opposite side of the bay from the landing. Signal Buresk to set up her booms and open hatches and prepare for coaling. Have the men stand by to careen."
They came up and around. Emden's anchor splashed into six fathoms of glass-clear water so handsomely that the men on the fo'c'sle head could see the swirls of sand as it struck bottom, and watched the multicolored fish darting around it. As ordered, Buresk came in to moor nearby and began to make ready for the work to come. Still the green palms and the long white curve of beach showed no sign of life. Not until nearly noon did a white longboat put out from the long, thin pier and come crawling across to them. The plantation manager, a lean Anglo-Frenchman from Madagascar, in crumpled whites, who spoke only French, was followed on board by his affable Singhalese assistant, whose broad English was comparatively good, but whose comprehension of the tongue was far less exact. Both, however, managed to understand the iced whisky and soda served to them in the wardroom.
"Messieurs!" cried the manager. "It is so seldom that we are honored by visitors, except for the schooner from Mauritius! Never in my memory have we had the pleasure to welcome a foreign man-of-war! Do you remember such a thing, George?"
The assistant looked blank. The manager repeated his question in a clucking tongue. George's face brightened. "Ah! Never!" he replied, and lifted his glass. "Who wins at Wimple?"
Von Mueller looked blankly at von Muecke. Von Hohenzollern came to the rescue. "Oh! You mean Wimbledon?" he cried. "We haven't heard the results yet, but at last reports the Japs and the Australians were leading the field. Do you play?"
The assistant spread his hands and looked resigned.
"Tennis?" the manager said in his island French. "But no! This is long since settled here. The turnip and the tomato are more wholesome. Our tennis court is a garden, and now there is nothing but the hammock. We have not even the wireless to tell us what is happening in the world outside— eh, George?"
Von Mueller had the vital information that they wanted— and that without hurting anyone. The island was still out of touch with the world. They could not broadcast an alarm. And in fact, it began to look as if they were unaware that beyond their doorstep was a world at war.
The man's next words confirmed the suspicion. "Only three or four times in the year does the government schooner from Mauritius stop here," he said. "And we have not seen her since early in July. In fact, she should be coming any day now. It would be a fine feather for its to give then some news for a change!"