When that work was done, supper was served. But they had scarcely finished eating before all hands, both officers and men, were mustered aft, where they could be addressed from the after turret. By that time it was obvious that they were about to make another raid and that the objective would be somewhere within the Strait of Malacca. But whether it was to be Malacca itself or the strong British base at Penang, or even a daring smash at Singapore, no man could yet say. When they were finally assembled, they fell tensely silent, waiting. From his vantage point on the turret von Mueller surveyed them soberly, yet with impassive satisfaction. There was no doubt in his mind that they were ready.
"Men! Shipmates!" he said at length. "Tomorrow at dawn we will go into action once more at Penang. I need not tell you that the undertaking will be a far more hazardous one than our easy strike at Madras. For those of you who have not been there and are not familiar with the port I should explain that the second—or possibly even the first by this time —most powerful English naval base in this part of the world is on the island of Penang, adjacent to and actually a part of the city of Georgetown. It is not only strongly protected in the military sense; it is perhaps even more strongly guarded by nature. From the south the only approach is by a narrow, tortuous channel, too shallow for any but very small craft, and impossible for any vessel of our size. To the east it is protected by the curve of the Malayan mainland. To the west, behind, it is sheltered by the full width of the island. Only from the north can it be reached, and from there only through a narrow bordeneck. What precautions the English have taken to safeguard that passage, we can only imagine. However, we do know that our British cousins are notoriously scornful of innovations and almost smugly confident of their own invincibility on water anywhere. This may have led them to an imprudent lack of care. We can only hope so. If they have neglected to protect that one point, we will have an excellent chance of success, and this is what we must count upon. However, I feel it only fair to let you understand fully the risk we run.
"As I have already indicated to you, we will time our strike for the moment of dawn, when we will have sufficient light to see our targets and the English will scarcely have awakened. We will make our approach in the early darkness, rush in when there is enough light, open fire rapidly, circle, and run out again as quickly as we came. We will have the advantages of surprise and mobility. These stood us in a good stead at Madras. Let us hope they will serve us as well here. I want every officer and man in his appointed place and fully prepared to do his best. If this is done, we may do most serious damage, and even strike a crippling blow at the enemy's ability to operate efficiently in these waters."
There was a quick, spontaneous burst of applause, followed immediately by cheers, first for the Kaiser, then for the Fatherland, and finally for their Captain and ship.
The Captain had not exaggerated. The dangers were great. But at the same time, he had been shrewdly accurate in his estimate of English overconfidence. Toward two in the morning the outer light of Pulo Penang Channel came in sight, and the officers on the bridge were astonished that under the circumstances the marker should still be there. Indeed, they were more than a little suspicious of a trap. But there was none. With the lead line going and by following star sights they crept in.
As they entered the channel the moon was still shining, and it seemed almost impossible that they would not be spotted by signal stations on shore. But an encouraging bit of good fortune came their way when a large merchantman swept into the channel just ahead.
"Hard starboard and circle!" commanded von Mueller. Von Muecke looked at him inquiringly. "Let him have a little more lead and follow him in. He can't possibly make out our lines clearly enough in this light to recognize us, and he may be accommodating enough to guide us all the way."
They maintained a discreet interval for some distance, and to their astonishment, passed several more lighted channel buoys. Then just before they slipped into the narrows, they passed the stranger, anchored and waiting for a pilot.
"There he is," remarked von Hohenzollern. "Now what?" "Keep going," said von Mueller grimly. "If we hesitate now, he'll be sure to recognize us. If we keep on confidently, he may take us simply for an unidentified Allied man-of-war going straight on about our business. It's risky but we haven't much choice."
In the waning dark, when there were yet deep pockets of shadow along the shore and up into the hills, they pressed on through the narrows and swung in toward the naval anchorage. Still they passed unchallenged, even as they entered the harbor itself. Probably the dummy stack accounted for that, but as they swept into the harbor lane and the light grew stronger all hands stood their posts with mounting tension. On the bridge von Muecke swept the anchorage with his glasses. "I count one cruiser," he remarked. "She looks like the Russian Jemtschug. There are several French torpedo-boat destroyers moored a little distance out and beyond. No English at all in sight—"
"Too bad!" said von Mueller.
"There's a lot of merchant shipping scattered all over the place," continued von Muecke. "There must be some Englishmen among them. But then there will be neutrals, too, and they're not our game."
"In a situation such as this," said von Mueller, "neutrals must look out for themselves. They know what flag flies over the port, and must be aware of the risks they run. We will not fire upon them if they identify themselves. But we cannot be expected to distinguish between them."
"Then what are your orders, Kapitan?"
"I won't pretend that I am not disappointed," von Mueller said. "I had hoped for better sport, but in the circumstances there is no question as to our duty. The Russian must be our primary target. Let the forward turrets open fire on him as we go in, then as we roll around to port try to finish him off with the starboard torpedo. Reload the starboard tube as we continue our turn, then as we start back on our outward run let them have the portside torpedo to complete the job. Let the fore and aft turrets then concentrate their fire on the Frenchmen while the main batteries devote their attention to harbor installations and shipping. In such an operation as this we can waste no time. We will have to fire a good deal at random."
"There's no doubt about that, Herr Kapitan," replied von Muecke.
That was the plan the Emden followed as she swung in at high speed, around the now dawnlit circle of the inner harbor. On shore a few houses gave smoke to the sky from their chimneys. Behind them and around the bay the green of the palms and mangroves and the shadows and folds of the hills looked quiet, peaceful. So far as they could tell, few of the ships at anchor had full steam up. Even the grim gray naval installations seemed to be still asleep. Von Mueller looked toward the Russian cruiser Jemtschug.
In command of her, he thought, would be the suave, urbane, rather likable Baron Ivanoff, who had always seemed to him far more suited to the diplomatic drawing room than command of a warship. He remembered occasions when he and the Russian had exchanged courtesy calls; at Tsingtao, at Shanghai and Vladivostok. He had always thought of the man in those days as a pleasant fellow and a fair seaman. But there was no time for that now. He turned toward the gunnery officer.
"You may open fire forward now, Herr Gaede!"
Dirk Gaede pressed one of the several buttons on his control panel, and the batteries in the two forward turrets slammed almost in unison. The Emden lurched, stumbling a little under the sudden recoil. From the armored conning tower they could see the swift flight of the projectiles as they streaked out dead on the target at almost point-blank range. But even as they watched them hit, bright orange explosions in sudden towering columns of black smoke, the Emden began her tight turn to port.