For the first time in the cruise they came to appreciate fully their Captain's skill. He seemed to go by sniff and by feel. At midnight he was on the bridge.
Von Muecke was already there, trying for a decent star-shoot. Adolph Gyssling had the watch.
"Guten Abend, Herr Kapitan!" They greeted him.
Von Mueller returned their salute informally. "At ease, gentlemen," he said. "What do you make our position?"
Both looked distressed.
"Well, sir," said von Muecke, "we're southwest of Sumatra and north of the Antarctic, east of Africa and west of Australia, I'm afraid that's about the best we can say under the current conditions."
Von Mueller chuckled, but there was a certain rebuke in his laugh. His officers were expected to know their exact position at all times. "I'm afraid you are both wrong, gentlemen," he said. "The truth is, we are right about here." He waited while they laughed. "Actually we are right now at eight degrees seventeen minutes south; one hundred four degrees eight minutes east. You are a little off course. But in a sense you are right. It should be right about here that we should meet Exford. You have seen nothing?"
"No, sir!" they both responded quickly.
"No!" said von Mueller. "I hardly thought we would, in this weather and under such circumstances. Herr von Muecke, I suggest we lie to for the rest of the night. Alert all lookouts to keep the sharpest possible watch. If she does not appear by daylight, we will begin a quartering search to southward."
They made no sighting during the rest of that stormy night. Neither did they make contact through the next twenty-four hours. But in the misty dawn of the second day a dim shape loomed over the heavy seas ahead, and they cleared away ship for action until snapping flags at the main halyards told them that they had made contact, and that the stranger was actually the Exford.
There was neither time nor weather for the celebration that had marked their reunion. Here in the high seas all was of the utmost seriousness. The boats that passed between the three ships were carefully manned and soberly handled. Nevertheless, they rose and swooped with the long seas, so that sometimes they were far below the ladders; at others, almost even with the rails. It was fortunate that none of the men and officers passing to and fro were injured.
Gropius returned from the Exford, all ears and jealousy at the account of the raid on Penang. And at the ensuing council he demanded the right to change places with one or another of the other officers of the Emden. There was some argument about that, at least until von Mueller put a stop to it. "Gentlemen!" he barked. "This wrangling settles nothing. I could—and perhaps should—order any one of you into any position I think would best serve the interests of His Imperial Majesty. So that we may all feel fair about it, however, I suggest that those among you who are qualified for the command draw straws for the place. Whoever takes the Exford will rendezvous with us northwest of the Amsterdam and Saint Paul islands, at a position which I will designate. Is that understood?"
"Jawohl, Kapitan!" said Voss.
"Very well!" said von Mueller. "One of you must do the job. The orders will be strict and explicit. Let no one think that this will be a brief picnic!"
The straws were cut and held by von Mueller himself, since he was clearly the most disinterested.
The long straw was drawn by Lauterbach.
"But—but, Karl—Kapitan," he protested, "can you—I mean—"
Von Mueller laughed. "Can you be spared, Conrad? Believe me, we will miss you. But we will continue to operate. You drew the straw, knowing the possibilities, and in fact, I feel it is only justice. You have earned a moment of rest. Take it and be thankful! We will meet you as arranged."
At four that afternoon, the Exford weighed and sailed toward the rendezvous agreed upon. As they left, between gray skies and green seas, Lauterbach dipped her flag in farewell. It was the last the Emden ever saw of her.
But there was far too much in the wind for any aboard the Emden to give thought to that possibility. She was still in sight when von Mueller called another council of his officers, including Klopper and his assistants from the Buresk. When they were all assembled in the cruiser's wardroom, the Captain produced a large rolled-up chart and spread it on the long mess table, weighting it at each end with bottles and glasses.
"Gentlemen," he said, signaling to them to come in close so that each could see for himself the area he had in mind, "you see here is a chart of the Cocos-Keeling Island. The reefs are treacherous and the surf is savage upon them. Let each one of you remember that!"
He glanced up to be sure that they all understood, then continued. "Only one of these islands is inhabited to any extent. That one is Direction Island, often known as South Keeling, in the southern group. That island, gentlemen, is to be our target for tomorrow."
A few of the officers present nodded understandingly, but most glanced at one another in surprise. Von Mueller lifted his hand to silence the protests they all seemed about to make.
"I understand, gentlemen!" he said. "You think it stupid and incredible that we should go out of our way to fall upon such an insignificant spot. But believe me, it is not as unimportant as you think. This tiny spot in an empty ocean is a crossroads of our modem world—not in the sense of seaborne traffic, but in the sense of communications, for here the cable lines between Australia, Asia, India, and Africa all come together. In addition one of the world's most powerful wireless relay stations is located there. In other words, gentlemen, if we can destroy that relay station and cut the cables we will have struck a crippling blow at our enemies' ability to communicate—not only with one another, but even with their own ships at sea. You can understand, then, why I consider this undertaking far more important than our strike at Madras, or even that at Penang."
He paused significantly, and saw that he had caught their interest.
"Very good, then, gentlemen. Our task for tomorrow unfortunately is one of destruction. If we can accomplish it, we may gain some future admiration. If we fail, our reward will probably be sneers and censure. What we do tomorrow must be done quickly and thoroughly. We must cut those communication lines immediately on arrival, and leave the enemy, so to say, speechless!"
He looked at them questioningly. No one spoke. "I think I am understood?" he demanded.
"Ja! Ja, Herr Kapitan! Zum Befehl, Kapitan!" They seemed to awake with a start, each answering in his own way.
"Very good! Then!" Von Mueller nodded with grim satisfaction. "Here are your orders. Kapitanleutnant Klopper, you will accompany us in the Buresk through the channel Once we are through, which should be well before dawn, we will part company for the time being. You will bear west and south thirty to forty miles, where you will heave to and await my signal to come in and join us at Port Refuge."
Klopper looked up and raised his hand.
"Couldn't we just go in with you, Herr Kapitan?"
"Kapitanleutnant. yours is not a fighting ship." Von Mueller sighed. "It is possible that there may be enemy warships at the island. In that case there will be a fight. We cannot risk having your ship, with its valuable cargo, fall into enemy hands. As soon as I know that the way is clear, I will send for you so that we may coal. We will need full bunkers to reach the rendezvous with the Exford. Is that understood, Kapitanleutnant?"