"Siege? What siege?" he demanded, startled. "Didn't you know?" He shook his head.
"Tsingtao has been under siege by the Japs for a month," she told him. "The Kaiserin Elizabeth never did get to sea, and now I'm afraid it is merely a matter of time before she is taken—along with the city."
"You mean—you mean Tsingtao will fall?" he demanded.
"But that is ridiculous! The harbor—the forts are impregnable!"
"I'm sorry, Conrad!" She shook her head. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I'm afraid it is inevitable. The forts are strong, and the spirit of the garrison is high. But the Japanese have drawn a tight net around them. There is no chance of reinforcing them, or even of keeping them supplied with food and water. Sooner or later they must give.
"They will never surrender!" he insisted, but he knew in his heart that what she said was true.
They were silent for a moment.
"You were speaking of Trudi Voss," he said less vehemently. "What happened to her? I shall have to tell Rudi, of course."
"Poor man!" she said. "Does he love her very much?"
"Don't you think he'd have to?"
"I see you understand," she replied dryly, "so thank heaven I shan't have to go into that. As for the rest of it—well, I have told you that I wanted her to come with me as soon as the Emden had left, and perhaps if she had not been so wound up in her silly little world of playtime she would have been able to."
"But what prevented her?" he asked. "She's an Australian, surely—"
The Englishwoman shook her head. "Not according to your Governor von Meyer-Waldeck. When I finally managed to convince Frau Voss that I could wait no longer for her, she went to him and applied for a pass. But he contended that by marrying a German she had become a German, and therefore was not entitled to such a pass. So he refused it. She is still there, so far as I know."
"I see," he said, then after a minute asked, "What about Frau von Braun? Did you hear anything of her? Was she allowed to leave?"
"I'm afraid she, too, was still there," Caroline Grey replied. "Had she been willing to go at once, with the rest to Shanghai, enduring the same hardships as everyone else, I am sure Governor von Meyer-Waldeck would have helped her in every way. But she insisted that the government owed her full passage by sea directly to Germany. Since that was not possible, it could not be provided. But she seemed unable to understand, and in the end she made such a nuisance of herself with her endless whining and demands that the Governor refused to see her. In a fit of temper she locked herself in her apartment. She was still there when I left."
"It does not surprise me. I don't suppose you heard anything about Hilde?"
She looked blank. "Hilde? Who is she?"
"Hildegarde Schultz," he told her, "the wife of the civilian cook of our officers' mess. He came with us voluntarily, and we are all very fond of them both. They lived in a neat little house out on Kiaochow Road."
"I'm sorry. I'm afraid I can tell you nothing about her. I did not know."
"No matter. She is probably still there, too. They were much attached to their little home. I doubt if she would even think of leaving it until it was too late."
"What a mess! What a horrible mess it all is!" she exclaimed.
"Horrible, indeed!" he agreed. "It's enough to make a man happy that he is not married!"
"Or even unattached, Conrad?" she demanded.
"Even that, Caroline! Even that!" he assured her.
The three ships continued slowly on a general northwesterly course. Toward midafternoon von Guerard was recalled to the Emden to resume his vigil in the wireless room, some undeciphered signals having been intercepted. But Lauterbach remained aboard the Troilus with the prize crew, and in the circumstances he was as pleased to remain where he was. If he had to keep Caroline Grey's presence on board a secret until she was well away, the less he saw of his shipmates the better.
At dusk they swung around and bore south again. Between eight and nine, long after dark, the bright moon revealed the outlines of a good-sized ship running away to the eastward without lights. At once the Emden swung in pursuit, signaling the Buresk and Troilus to follow, but to stand clear in the event of any engagement. As both of the latter were much slower, the stranger had already been brought to by blinker and boarded by the time they came upon the scene.
The signals that flickered back and forth between the Emden and the newcomer, of course, were meant entirely for one another. Nevertheless, as he watched from the Troilus' bridge, Lauterbach was able to observe and read and translate for Captain Russell's benefit as much as he felt was not confidential.
"You're in luck, Captain," he said presently.
"How so?" Russell demanded.
"That ship is the Saint Egbert, British, from Colombo for New York, with sugar and piece goods."
"I must say I fail to see—" the Englishman began.
"How that affects you?" Lauterbach interrupted. "Think, man! The ship is British. But her cargo is neutral. That gives Kapitan von Mueller a valid reason for sparing her. It is my guess that he will choose to use her as a cartel to send you and your people, and all the rest of our captives, in to some nearby Indian port."
He was right. Half an hour later the message flashed from the Emden to the Troilus:
BRITISH S/S SAINT EGBERT, WITH NEUTRAL CARGO, WILL JOIN CONVOY AND SERVE AS CARTEL FOR ALL PRISONERS. STAND BY TO TRANSFER YOUR PERSONNEL AT DAYBREAK.
After that it seemed to Lauterbach that there was little need for either him or Captain Russell to remain on the bridge. He sent the Englishman below, to his own cabin, and stretched out on the settee in the chartroom to snatch what sleep he could. Only once was he awakened and summoned to the bridge outside. That was shortly after midnight, when the Emden intercepted yet another vessel. This one turned out to be the S/S Exford, British, under charter to the British Admiralty, out of Bristol with 5500 tons of the best Cardiff coal for various English naval bases in the Far East—a prize, indeed. Her cargo, combined with that of the Buresk would enable the Emden to keep the seas for several months more; perhaps even to make her way around the Cape of Good Hope and into the South Atlantic—for the Indian Ocean could not remain a happy hunting ground much longer.
It never occurred to Lauterbach, however, that this new capture might have any significant effect upon his own personal destiny.
To hold such a minor flotilla together under conditions of total blackout, especially after the moon set, was quite a trick. Nevertheless, Emden managed it without event save for a near collision between herself and Exford. When day broke, another problem made itself uncomfortably apparent. With her officers and men scattered among the several prizes, the cruiser was in an awkward position. Had an enemy warship appeared at that moment, she would have been forced to fight at something less than half strength.
As a result throughout the little fleet both officers and men were nervous and jumpy, and only too happy to get the necessary work done with as much dispatch as possible. The sun had barely shown its rim above the edge of the sea before the transfer of captives from the Buresk, Troilus, and Exford to the Saint Egbert, began. Ac the same rime, provisions sufficient for her sudden influx of passengers were put aboard the Saint Egbert from the Buresk and Troilus.
Bleary-eyed and unshaven, Lauterbach counted off the Troilus passengers and crew to the waiting boats. When it came Caroline Grey's turn to go down the ladder, he drew her aside for a moment and took her hand in his.
"I'm sorry it has turned out like this, Caroline," he said earnestly, "but you will be safe now to India, at least, for all nations recognize a cartel. Why not just wait it out in Bombay or Calcutta? They're not likely to be attacked, and whatever the outcome, the war cannot last forever."