On board the Sydney —by ironic coincidence the same ship on board which, at a courtesy reception for the visiting officers of the Emden, Rudi Voss had first met his Australian wife—the operator on duty in the wireless room came suddenly alert, and promptly relayed the scrap of intercepted message to the big cruiser's bridge.
Captain John Glossop studied the flimsy and scowled. "She can't be one of ours!" he remarked. "We have nothing in these waters except this convoy."
Aboard the flagship Melbourne and the Minotaur and the Jap Ibuki much the same scene was being enacted. Immediately signals went up on the Melbourne's halyards:
Sydney stand by to investigate report of strange vessel at Direction Island.
After that there was what seemed like a long delay, though it was actually only a matter of half an hour or so.
In the combined wireless and cable shack on Direction Island the cable operators came in quickly but quietly to take their places at the keys. On the way up the hill they had been able to get a good look at the Emden, now much closer in to the anchorage, and there was no further question of her identity as a man-o-war. At the same time, they had seen quite clearly von Muecke and his landing party moving down the ladder to the waiting launch and boats, and there could be no question of their purpose. Darcy Farrant, the station's manager, had already gone down to the landing to meet them. The island had no armed guard, and there could be no hope of resistance.
They knew, too, that while the wireless could be jammed, so long as the cable lines remained open they could broadcast the alarm and hope that some Allied warship was near enough to come to their rescue. The Emden could not hear the cabled messages, let alone interfere. Grim-faced, they went to work. Their keys chattered. With the first click the receivers at Perth and Adelaide, and even Singapore, thousands of miles distant, began to pick up the message:
Very urgent. Do not reply. Foreign warship here. Three funnels. Landing men. 7 a.m.
Immediately all three stations relayed the message to the Melbourne, Sydney, Minotaur, and Ibuki.
On board the Sydney, Captain Glossop glanced at his exec. "Three funnels," he said. "That sounds like the Emden."
Aboard the Melbourne signals snapped from the halyards:
Sydney detach at once. Investigate.
The Japanese Ibuki, without orders from the Commodore, had already run up her battle flags and swung southward. The Melbourne's wireless crackled peremptorily:
Ibuki will return to her position with convoy.
The slowness with which the Jap turned and went back to her post was proof of her Captain's reluctance.
At the same time, black smoke poured from the Sydney's funnels. She seemed to squat lower in the sea as she turned and leaped to full speed ahead.
On the bridge the exec glanced at Captain Glossop, "Remember that ugly little feller—Voss, wasn't that his name? Married the handsome young tart from the Imperial. I wonder if he's still on board."
"Shouldn't be surprised," Glossop grunted. "Maybe quite a few others we know, too."
On board the Buresk the Emden's order to come in had been heard, but the Buresk's transmitter was out of order and she was powerless to reply. Later, too, she overheard the nearby chatter amid the English ships, but she had no way of warning her colleague.
Helmuth von Muecke and his party went over the side at approximately 6:30 a.m.
"Don't waste time, Helmuth," von Mueller warned as he saw them away. "We cannot afford delay. Make sure that the installations are destroyed—but injure no one if you can help it—and be back on board by 9 a.m. We must move swiftly today."
"As swiftly as we can, Karl," von Muecke replied. "Much will depend on what we find on shore."
"Of course!" said von Mueller. "But don't be longer than you must."
"We won't!" von Muecke promised.
They reached the landing place only a few minutes after 7 a.m. while the cables were still humming. But down at the shore they could hear none of that. A rather stocky, portly Englishman, in faded shorts and an astonishingly huge pith helmet, waited for them at the end of the plank pier. He watched them chug up and pile out on the dock. There was no need to ask why they were there. The weapons they carried were eloquent enough.
"Good morning, you chaps." he said. "We were expecting you before this." His tone held a characteristic note of censure, almost as if he were saying that had this been a British operation it would have been more efficiently done.
"Expecting us?" Von Muecke looked a little startled.
"Oh, of course!" the Englishman replied. "Ever since we first sighted you out there off Horsborough, hours ago. You'll be the Emden, I daresay?"
"What gives you that impression?" von Muecke demanded.
"My dear chap!" the Englishman smiled. "That false funnel wouldn't fool anyone except in the dark of night or a flat calm. It's canvas, isn't it?"
"It did!" von Muecke began hotly, then caught himself. "Sir! All you need to do is show us the way to your wireless and cable installations."
"They're quite obvious," said the Englishman. "Right up there on the hill. You can see them from here—path, too."
He was quite right. There was little beyond a few small shrubs to hide them. Some palm trees nodded here and there, but whatever Jungle growth there may once have been had long ago been hacked away. At the base of the towers, between them, squatted the flat-topped shape of the cable and wireless building. There was even a broad, carefully stepped pathway leading up to it.
Von Muecke turned to his two lieutenants. "Gentlemen," you will divide the party and proceed at once. Leutnant Gyssling, you will take your crew and demolish the transmission building. Be sure that there is no possibility of sending or receiving messages from this place. Leutnant Schmidt, you and your men will first demolish the wireless towers. After that you will locate and cut the several cables, where they come on shore. As soon as Leutnant Gvssling has finished his work inside, he will assist you in the complete destruction of the building itself. This place must be rendered entirely inoperative. Is that understood?"
"The quarters, Herr Kapitanleutnant? The outlying buildings? What should we do about them?" Gyssling asked.
"Leave them alone," said von Muecke. "We do not make war on defenseless people, Leutnant. Our task is simply to make sure that they cannot pass on vital information."
"Jawohl, Herr Kapitanleutnant!" Gyssling responded.
The chubby Englishman had listened without quite understanding all that was said. ''You might as well have these," he said, holding out a bunch of keys.
Von Muecke looked startled. "You—turn them over?"
"What else?" The Englishman shrugged. "If I did not give them up, you would just destroy the buildings, anyway. Most of them contain nothing of interest to you, so—see for yourself. Isn't it simpler that way?"
"Thank you!" Von Muecke bowed—a German bow, from the waist, with a click of the heels. "This will make things more simple."
He glanced up toward the tall towers and the low, flat-roofed shack between. "I am sorry we must destroy all this," he said.
"Don't apologize," said the Englishman, "It's only what we expected."
"And you don't mean to resist?" von Muecke said.
The Englishman shrugged. "What with? My bare hands, Herr ?"
"Von Muecke," said Helmuth automatically.
"Herr Kapitanleutnant von Muecke?" cried the other, quite obviously astonished. "Then let me be among the first— of your enemies, at least—to congratulate you!" "Me?" Von Muecke was completely mystified. "Hadn't you heard?" the English manager replied incredulously. "We had a despatch from Renter's only a day or two ago, listing those German officers who had just been honored with the Iron Cross. Your name was among them."