"Ja, Herr Kapitan!" said Klopper, somewhat crestfallen.
"Very good!" said von Mueller. He glanced around at the other officers. "Leutnants Gyssling and Schmidt! You will report immediately, with your gear, on board this ship—the Emden—for duty. You will be relieved aboard the Buresk by Leutnants Fikentscher and Schall."
Fikentscher was phlegmatic, but Schall's—"Papa Katz's"— jaw dropped in dismay. "Herr Kapitan—" he began, protesting.
"Sit down, Leutnant Schall!" von Mueller commanded sharply. "I understand your reluctance, but stop and reflect. Both you and Fikentscher took part in the forays against Madras and Penang, not to mention several captures at sea. Gyssling and Schmidt have been all this time aboard the Buresk. Don't you think it only fair to give them a chance at some action, too?"
"Jawohl, Herr Kapitan. But—"
Von Mueller leaned on the table and fixed him with a cold ,vT" K "^ ''^ >;°^ ""'^'"'^ Leutnant. Let us get on with if f ''•'^ '"^^>'- ^^^" ^^" ^^^^^ "Kapitanleutnant von Muecke in view of the importance of the undertaking, you will lead the landing party. Leutnants Gyssling and Schmidt will accompany you and assist in commanding such detachment as you may find it necessary to send out. You will select for your party thirty seamen, fifteen technical ratings and two men from the careless staff. That will make fifty men in all. You may select them in any way you wish, but I want them all briefed this evening so that they will be in full readiness to land at dawn."
"Zum Befehl, Herr Kapitan!" Von Muecke was especially delighted at the free hand given him. As the Captain had left It, he was free to make his own selection of those individuals who, in his opinion, would be most reliable in an emergency.
In the dark of night, aided somewhat by a star-studded sky and a pale lopsided moon, they slipped through the passage between the island groups, with the Buresk hanging close on their heels. Long before, the dummy funnel had been hoisted into place and the launch and other necessary boats swayed out. Everything was ready. There could be no delay when day came.
Two hours past midnight, when they were at last clear of
t'/r^rr'. '"^'' ?°PP'' ^ *^ ^"^^^^ ^i^^led farewell and good luck, and then stood away to the eastward. Emden herself turned toward the south and crept toward the unsuspecting prey with screws barely flipping, just enough to allow her to maintain steerageway. EveS now, when the dawn came, they would be hull do..-n in sight of the islands. I u "f '° ^""^ "^ "'^"^ P«5i°on too soon.
whii r • ^""""^^ "^^ P"^"^' ^^^-^^° Direction, ^ which the wireless and cable stations were located, and Horsborough, which was not inhabited. Port Refuge the single harbor on Direction Island, was in sight and the all his towers reared against the paling sky.
cnl^' h°"^ J^-^ ^=^0 A.AI. In a few minutes the sun would come up with a swiftness characteristic of these latitudes. On the bridge Karl von Mueller scanned the harbor through his glasses, then turned them seaward and searched the entire perimeter. There was no sign of an enemy vessel. Even over the tops of the palms on the low hills no telltale masthead showed to reveal a possible ambush. Nothing—only one small schooner at anchor off the end of the cable company's wharf, obviously unarmed. He lowered his glasses and glanced at von Muecke.
"They are a little overconfident, it would seem," he remarked. "You'd think they would have at least one small guardship stationed here. But here they are, apparently not even awake! Well, Helmuth, the seas are quiet. There seems little chance of interference. I think that while you do your work on shore I will call in the Buresk and we will take this opportunity to coal."
Von Muecke nodded almost absently. His own mind was on the things he must be doing once they had landed. "That might be wise," he said. "When we have finished our work ashore here, we may have to run fast and far."
"That's what I was thinking," von Mueller said. "You'd best get started. We can't count on surprise much longer." Von Muecke went clattering down the ladder.
On the bridge behind him Karl von Mueller lifted the communicator phone.
"Sparks!" came the instant response.
"Bridge here, Kapitan von Mueller!" he replied, ignoring the informality. "Raise the Buresk and order them in to Port Refuge for fueling."
"Jawohl, Herr Kapitan!" The operator on duty had evidently not expected to get the Captain himself.
In the growing light the singing notes of the wireless transmission mingled in a sort of strange harmony with the faint creaking of the boat falls, where von Muecke and his shore party were preparing to embark. The bosun's pipes twittered them away. That was at 6:30 a.m.
The wireless and cable stations on Direction Island were located at the highest point of land. A constant lookout patrolled the roof of the low building while at the same time there were always two operators on duty. At daybreak on the ninth of November, 1914, both men had been on watch for several hours and were drowsy. But there is a stage of weariness that can be shaken off in an emergency. As it happened in this case, both the lookout and the stand-by operator picked up the alarm at almost the same instant. Down in the wireless room Jack Potter was half dozing with his headphones on. The Emden's call to the Buresk nearly blasted him out of his chair. He jumped.
"Jesus! That's bloody close, that one!" he muttered, and automatically reached for his transmitting key.
"What ship is that?" he clicked out. "What code? What ship? What code?"
There was no answer. Potter snatched the earphones from his head and looked up. "Harry!" he called.
On the roof Harry Shaw had already glimpsed the stranger ghosting in toward the tiny harbor—and noticed something odd about her fourth funnel. It seemed to waver in the breeze. Even as Jack Potter called, Shaw was opening the scuttle.
"Jack!" he bellowed. "There's a strange ship coming in! Man-o-war, I make 'er!"
"Aye!" replied Potter. "I caught 'er signals just now, and she ain't sending to us. She won't answer me. What's she look like? "
"Man-o-war, like I said," Shaw retorted. "Four funnels, only I'd say there was something fishy about one of 'em. I'd say it was a fake. Wouldn't be surprised if she was the Emden.
Harry Shaw was a Sydney man, born and bred.
"Any stranger's the bloody Emden these days!" Potter replied. "But you might be right. Look, Harry. You can't do any more good up there. Get down now. Run and tell Mister Farrant what's up, and get some of those lazy cable men up here. I'll try to get out an alarm in the meantime."
The trap door banged shut. Jack Potter bent to his key:
Foreign vessel entering harbor. Warship unidentified, refuses to answer signals. Request support. . . .
On board the Emden the receivers chattered, though there was no response from the Buresk. The operator on duty listened for an instant, then pressed down his key with one hand, filling the air with interference. At the same time, he reached for the communications phone.
"Bridge—Kapitan von Mueller," came the response.
"Wireless room, Herr Kapitan, The island is sending. I think they are trying to broadcast an alarm."
"Jam it!" von Mueller ordered crisply.
"It is already jammed, Herr Kapitan," replied the operator. "I will alert the wireless crew."
"Well done!" said von Mueller, and hung up.
Sixty miles to the north and east a troop convoy from Australia for Suez and the Mediterranean plodded slowly west, accompanied by the Australian cruisers Sydney and Melbourne, the British Minotaur, and the Japanese Ibiiki. All four of the cruisers and a number of the convoy picked up the words "Foreign vessel entering harbor—" After that the air seemed filled with interference, and nothing further was intelligible.