CHAPTER XVIII UNWELCOME GUESTS

The following interesting dialogue, which was conducted in English, now took place between the captain of the Shatter and my mate.

'Where are you from?'

No answer.

'Hallo! Where are you from?'

Again no answer.

'Goddam! I asked you where are you from.'

Düsselmann at last took the trouble to answer, and shouted across in a loud voice, 'Good-morning.'

'Hell and damnation,' shouted the English captain. 'I don't want your civilities. I want to know where you come from.'

'Then, first of all, would you mind telling me who you are?' answered the mate calmly.

'I am the captain of this ship,' was the answer; 'are you the captain of the Aud?'

'No, I am the second officer.'

'Where is your captain?'

'Sh! He is asleep.'

'Well, wake him at once.'

'The devil I will! The old man would half kill me if I called him in the middle of the night,' answered Düsselmann.

'Very well, then, I'll do it,' the Englishman roared, and he went a shade redder in the face with anger.

'What, you want to get killed?' asked the voice from above.

'No, but I'm coming on board to knock the sleep out of your captain. You will see how the captain of a ship in the service of His Britannic Majesty does it.'

'I'd like to see you,' answered the mate, with a laugh; 'let's see you do it.'

One by one, nearly the whole of the crew of the Shatter had come on deck and were now interested spectators, while the captain, with much circumstance, manœuvred his ship to within a couple of yards of ours. The deck of his little steamer lay so far below me that I could no longer see the men standing on it. After a while I heard the English captain shout, 'How am I to get up the side?' The laconic answer came, 'I suppose the captain of a ship in the service of His Britannic Majesty will show us how it is done.' There now came a long pause while they were doubtlessly wondering on the Shatter how to scale the steep side of our ship without the aid of a ladder. Then I heard the Englishman call out—this time in a particularly polite tone—'Please let down a ladder.'

'Certainly, with the greatest pleasure,' the mate answered. 'But I must first call the crew, they are all still asleep.' Then he lumbered slowly down from the bridge and went forward cursing to rouse the men. As he went I heard a voice below me say, 'Goddam, this damned fellow is no fool,' a statement which I silently endorsed. The crew of the Shatter had apparently forgotten that they could support their demand with force of arms. It was quite a long time before the second mate returned from the forecastle along with a couple of the crew, who, to all appearances, had come straight from their bunks. Then a ladder was let down, and with much puffing and blowing the Englishman clambered up, followed by a couple of his men. As they posted themselves right in front of my window I had to quickly pull the blind across.

'Now then, where's your captain?' asked the Englishman; and I heard the mate answer 'Don't shout so loud, man. If you wake this skipper you will know about it. He is the most-feared captain in all Norway.'

'But it is most urgent that I speak to him. So come along with me.'

'All right,' answered Düsselmann, but you will have to go first!'

'No, you go in front,' answered the Englishman, who began to think there was something uncanny about the business.

'Oh, all right then.' That was all I heard, for I quickly bolted the door and made all ready for the reception while the pair were coming along the cabin passage. Knocking, first circumspectly, then harder and harder, they tried to rouse the captain of the Aud. Leaning my head back somewhat, I answered a couple of times with a half audible curse. Then there was silence for a while. All I could hear now was whispering voices; and then the knocking began again. This was more than I could stand. I pulled off my vest and tie, put my hair in suitable disarray, and went cursing loudly to the door. In accordance with our plan I spoke Low German, on the assumption that the Englishman would probably take it for Norwegian.

'Damnation! What's the meaning of this confounded drumming in the middle of the night?' I shouted in my deepest bass while I opened the door.

'Good-morning, sir! I am very sorry to have to trouble you so early in the morning.' With these words my English 'colleague' greeted me, while at the same time he carefully took a step backwards. In his left hand he held a rusty pistol which might well have dated from the time of Nelson. With his right he touched his grease-stained cap in curt salute. Behind him stood, besides my mate, six English seamen armed to the teeth and clothed in rather fantastic and dirty uniforms. I put on the sternest appearance I could possibly assume, and then addressed him in browbeating tone in English. 'If you wish to speak to me, be good enough to wait until I have dressed.' As I spoke, I slammed the door in his face. All this happened so quickly that the Englishman did not know where he was.

There was quite a long pause before I heard him say to the mate, 'Are all your Norwegian captains such bounders?' And Düsselmann replied, 'All I can tell you is that this one is a regular Tartar.' Then he invited him to take a seat in the mess-room, which the Englishman very willingly did.

I now knew enough to be able to play my rôle in the comedy. The popping of a cork next door told me that Düsselmann had already started the good work. For nearly a quarter of an hour I pounded up and down the room, splashed in the wash-basin, and joyfully anticipated the scene that was now coming. Men of this description could be managed without bloodshed. There was no doubt about that. My sole anxiety was lest these fellows, while they were still sober, should go smelling round the holds. But my men had cleverly understood the situation and had invited the crew of the Shatter to have 'a little drink' in the forecastle, so that for the present there was nothing to fear from them.

I opened wide the whisky locker under my bunk, so that any one sitting on the sofa could easily see the bottles of whisky and brandy standing in serried ranks, and then shouted into the mess that I was ready for the interview. The man with the whisky nose appeared immediately and took the seat I offered him on the sofa. It was only now that I saw to my horror that my uniform jacket, sword-belt, and cutlass were hanging beside the washstand. I promptly threw the towel, which I still held in my hand, over them, and had the satisfaction of noting that the Englishman had spotted nothing. During the conversation which ensued I was at first very surly and curt. When the usual questions, 'Where was I from?' and 'Where was I bound for?' had been disposed of, the Englishman asked me what my object was in anchoring here. I told him my engines had broken down, and that I had been forced to make for Tralee. He then expressed a wish to have a look at the holds. I was not particularly keen on that, but as I dared not let him see that I at once expressed my willingness. So we went on deck and proceeded first of all, needless to say, to No. 2 hold. There I shouted to Düsselmann (who in the meantime had gone back to the bridge after giving me one of his sly winks), to send me a couple of hands to take the hatches off. They came at once; and I had now reached a rather unpleasant stage in the proceedings. The next few seconds must decide if the comedy was going to succeed or if I should have to render the Englishman harmless. Fortunately, no one could see us, for the Shatter had in the meantime made fast to our stern. The doughty warrior had forgotten his old pistol in my cabin, where my servant Bruhns had no doubt already found it. With nervous attention I followed every movement of the Englishman, ready at any moment to knock him down if necessary. As I was a much bigger man than he this would have been easy. I held my Browning pistol ready cocked in my pocket.

When the first hatch was removed I gave a sigh of relief, for I saw that my men had found time to cover up the holds in the lower deck also. So the most important thing was hidden. The few pit-props which we had left between decks the day before were now to prove our salvation. As soon as the Englishman's eye caught sight of the wood strewn all round the sides of the hold he asked what the explanation was. I told him about the terrible storm which we had experienced, and how the whole of our deck-cargo, as well as some of the cargo in the hold, had shifted. Any sailor in his senses would have noticed at once the absurdity of this explanation, for when a ship's cargo shifts the hold presents a much more disorderly appearance than was the case here. The man appeared to be as little of a sailor as he was of a soldier, for he nodded his head and found my explanation quite reasonable. Emboldened by his ignorance I asked him if I should open the lower hold also, 'Not that you will see very much,' I remarked by the way, 'everything is so higgledy-piggledy down there.' At the same time I placed a small ladder for him, and with a gesture invited him to go down. Was he afraid that the ladder would not carry his weight, or did he think the descent would be too unpleasant? Anyway, he waved the ladder aside and said curtly, 'All right.' Then, without another look at the inside of the hold, he related to me how he had weathered this awful storm here in Tralee Bay, what a terrible time he had had, and how, by his clever handling, he had preserved Shatter II. from destruction. So excited did he get over his account that he did not notice that I had shepherded him back to the door of the cabin.

Thank goodness! At any rate I had now got him away from that dangerous No. 1 hold, which, of course, was still wide open. In order to cut the business short I now asked him if he would like to see my papers. As he answered in the affirmative I pushed him into the cabin, and the next moment he was again seated on the sofa with me opposite him. Then I offered him a fat Havana and ordered the steward to bring two cups of coffee.

This, of course, was all by-play, for an Englishman like this would certainly not drink coffee first thing in the morning. So he turned away quite angrily when Bruhns put down a large cup of coffee under his nose. To my joy I noticed that the whisky cupboard had not escaped his attention. He stared and stared between my legs at the locker, so I remarked quite casually, 'Perhaps you would rather have a little whisky?'

That did it. With an energetic 'You're the man for me,' he slapped me on the shoulder, and with characteristic shamelessness started to go to the locker himself and to pick out the best 'White Horse.' I let him go ahead, and in the meantime fetched a big tumbler, so that his ration should not be too small. Then I held out the water-bottle and asked, 'How much?' But the Englishman waved it aside, declaring 'No water! You know we never see this stuff here.' What better could I have wished?

The conversation now became fairly lively, and when the Englishman asked to see the ship's papers I very willingly got out my whole collection of smoke-blackened documents. He pawed them over repeatedly, but I noticed at the first glance that he had no earthly idea of the meaning of the documents. He handed me a book to sign. I wrote myself down in several places as 'Niels Larsen, captain of the Norwegian steamer Aud, with pit-props and piece goods from Christiania, for Cardiff and Genoa.' At the mention of pit-props he remarked cheerfully that this cargo was badly wanted in England, and in confirmation of this statement he emptied his glass at a gulp. Without 'by your leave' he at once poured himself out another glass, and assured me again and again that the coffee which I drank was very bad for the nerves. Referring to the Norwegian newspapers lying in front of us, which were now three weeks old, I asked him if he could let me have a few English papers, as I was anxious to know the latest war news. He got up at once, went up on deck, and going over to the side shouted an order to the men on his ship to send over immediately all the papers lying in his cabin.

The conversation now turned on the events of the war, with the result that I found myself in the peculiar position of having to join with one of my deadly enemies in cursing my beloved Germany, which nearly broke my heart. I would have preferred to have knocked the fellow down for some of the ridiculous statements he made. But in view of what I hoped to obtain from him I had to swallow it all and chime in with him. In the meantime my second mate had joined us, accompanied by one of the English petty officers, who carried a huge parcel of the latest papers under his arm. I now went back into the cabin with the petty officer, offered him a whisky, and cast my eye rapidly over the papers. Chance decreed that a paragraph in the second paper I took up caught my eye. It stated that on Wednesday, i.e. two days before our arrival, by order of the English officer commanding the Tralee district, several Sinn Fein leaders had been arrested in Fenit on suspicion of being concerned in a conspiracy against the English Government. So this was the answer to the riddle! And the paper stated that an Irish pilot (whose name I have forgotten) had been arrested on a similar charge. There could be no doubt about it. It must have been our pilot, the man for whom we had been waiting so anxiously here. It was no easy task for me to conceal from the petty officer the difficulty I had in following his remarks on all sorts of unimportant subjects.

Fortunately, the other two now reappeared, and I was able to switch off. I handed the papers to Düsselmann, holding my thumb on the paragraph in question so that he noticed it at once. At the same moment the English captain clapped me on the back, and said in a reassuring tone, 'Capt'n, you need have no fear of U-boats. I'll keep a look-out for you.' As I did not at once grasp the meaning of these words he added in explanation, 'Your mate told me you were very much afraid of the U-boats and feared that you would never return from this voyage. Of course, I can understand this in the case of a man who is engaged to a girl in Christiania and is to be married in two months' time. But don't worry. So long as you are compelled to remain here for repairs I will lie at the entrance to the bay and take care that no U-boat gets in. And now, in return for that, give me another drink.' Suiting the action to the word, he poured out drinks for himself and the petty officer.

I am afraid my face did not give the impression of much intelligence at this moment. Not that I had not understood his words, but I feared that Düsselmann by his well-intended remark had done me more harm than good. If the Englishman really should keep a look-out he might possibly succeed in sinking our submarine, which might still appear at any moment. The more I attempted by all sorts of objectives to dissuade him from his purpose, the more obstinately he clung to this plan. 'Out of gratitude,' as he said. Then he swallowed his glass of whisky in one gulp, while big tears rolled down his maudlin face. It now appeared to me imperative that I should have a few minutes' undisturbed conversation with Düsselmann; so I summoned the first mate and asked him to look after my guests. Making the excuse that I just wanted to have a look round and see that all was well, I left the cabin, which was now almost unbearable for tobacco smoke and the smell of whisky. Düsselmann followed me at once.

We debated what we should do with the fellows. It would have been a simple matter to overpower them and tie them up, for I now learned that the English, who were sitting in the forecastle with my crew, were dead drunk, and that the same was probably true of the men who remained on the Shatter. For Düsselmann had had the inspiration to present four bottles of whisky to the boat's crew. But the execution of this plan would not have helped us, for we had no manner of use for the steamer, and we could not sink her without exciting suspicion. Now, too, when we knew that arrests had already been made in Tralee and that the district was probably under martial law, it would be useless if we manned the Shatter ourselves and ran in to reconnoitre and try to get in touch with the Sinn Feiners. This would cost me at least four men, and I should probably never see them again. We were too much under the observation of the various signalling stations to dismount the Shatter's guns and take them over. And there was no other anchorage in the neighbourhood where we could do it. We therefore came to the conclusion that the best thing to do was to make the fellows dead drunk and then let them go. We dared not stay here later than the next morning. If by that time nothing had happened I intended to try and break through into the Atlantic and start commerce-raiding. In any case I intended during the coming night to send a boat ashore, even at the risk of being discovered. By this time things were getting lively in my cabin. The huge quantity of whisky they had consumed was evoking various discords apparently intended to represent 'It's a Long Way to Tipperary.' And coming from the forecastle also singing, or rather most damnable bawling, could be heard. Well, let them enjoy themselves! We decided we would sound them thoroughly and then get rid of them as quickly as possible.

When I re-entered the cabin the worthy captain held out to me a photograph which he had taken from the wall, asking if that was my fiancée from Christiania. I laughed and said it was. It was a picture of my sister holding her youngest hopeful in her arms! However, I had the satisfaction of knowing that the Englishmen were quite convinced of our Norwegian nationality. They had now got to brandy I noticed. If they continued to mix their drinks in this fashion they would assuredly die of alcoholic poisoning. The captain, although speech had become a matter of some difficulty to him, was getting more and more loquacious. Between his hiccoughs he told us that he was on outpost duty here, but that he made himself quite comfortable all the same. Two hours before dark at the very latest he always proceeded to a quiet anchorage behind Kerry Head in order to be able to sleep in comfort. His crew, too, he added, were all in favour of a good night's sleep! The only privation they suffered was lack of whisky, this being strictly prohibited on British warships. That, he said, was the reason why he was so glad to seize this opportunity and to find so kind a host. I nodded benevolently, and asked him how long he had been stationed here. 'Not very long,' he replied. 'I was sent here a couple of weeks ago from Aberdeen, mainly in order to intercept a German steamer which is expected to arrive here at any moment.'

We of the Aud involuntarily glanced at each other—the business was getting more and more interesting every moment. When I had recovered from my first astonishment I asked a few questions. 'Yes, I suppose you think the Germans don't break through the blockade,' said the captain. 'Well, I assure you they do. Look at the Möwe, for instance. She got back all right.' And in order to wash out the impression which the return of the Möwe made on his English sailor's heart he hastily took a big drink, the whisky trickling down from the corners of his mouth. Then he went on again: 'Look here, I will tell you how it is. You Norwegians are good fellows; so there is no harm in my telling you, although it is really supposed to remain absolutely secret. Well, we, that is to say, the Naval Staff, have discovered that these damned swine, the Germans, want to join the Irish in bringing about a revolution. That is why they chose me in order to capture the auxiliary cruiser which is to come in here and bring arms for the Irish. Look at the harbour and the entire bay—the whole place is bristling with guns! What a fine reception the Germans will get from us. Of course the beggars are clever—but we English are a jolly sight cleverer.'

I could no longer contain myself. I burst out laughing, and the first and second mate joined in. This capped all that we had experienced so far! Fortunately, the Englishman thought we were laughing at the stupidity of the Germans, for he repeated again and again, 'Yes, they are terribly stupid, in spite of all their cunning!' I now knew all I wanted to know. I rushed to the locker, and telling this splendid, clever Englishman that I wished him the very best of luck on his quest, I got out another half-dozen bottles of whisky and a box of cigars, which I presented to him and his brave crew as a token of my respect. He himself was incapable of carrying the bottles, so we stuffed them in his pockets and those of his petty officer, telling the gentlemen that we must now get to work and must beg them to leave the ship. And they, with a loving look at their presents, declared their readiness to go. As he was getting up the captain beckoned to me, and, with his hand to my ear, hiccoughed, 'If by any chance you catch sight of the German cruiser out there be careful that she does not sink you. Inform a signalling station at once, or one of our many cruisers which are waiting in the offing for her. You will be well rewarded by the Government. I tell you that as a—friend!' I laughed, and promised to do so, and then pushed the two of them out. I stood upon no ceremony in dismissing the horribly drunken pair. The rest I left to my crew, and in about ten minutes Düsselmann was able to report to me that all the English, dead drunk, had left the ship, and that Shatter II. was steering a zigzag course for the mouth of the bay. Later we found out that he kept his word and kept watch for us against submarines at a distance of five miles. Poor unsuspecting fool!

The first thing I did then was to sit down in the cabin in order to regain my breath, cool down, and collect my thoughts. We had entertained our guests for two solid hours! If I had been told that in six weeks the world would come to an end I might have believed it. But if any man had told me that in my own cabin the captain of an English outpost boat would warn me against myself I should have thought him mad. What we had just gone through was so incredibly funny that I might have thought it a dream if the statement of the Shatter captain had not reminded us of the seriousness of our position. And very serious it was.

All hope of landing or of communicating with the Sinn Feiners had now disappeared. There was treachery about! Danger on all sides, whichever way I looked! We had chanced into a wasp's nest and could count ourselves lucky if we got out again in the next twenty-four hours. I summoned the whole crew to the upper deck and outlined my scheme. In order at any rate to save my valuable cargo I proposed to leave the bay immediately after dark and try if I could get out thirty miles into the Atlantic before the moon rose. Trusting in the luck that had till now accompanied us I was quite confident we should succeed in escaping. Once we were out on the high seas the future could take care of itself. I had before my mind the possibility of selling our cargo in Spain, which was only a day and a half's sail distant, or perhaps in Mexico, if we could get there. To leave the bay at this moment would have been a blunder, for it could not be supposed that all the English were such silly fools as our friends of the Shatter. The signalling stations round us had witnessed the visit from the Shatter in the morning, but they would most certainly have been suspicious if we were now suddenly to up anchor and away, for they were not going to believe that we had run in in order to enjoy the scenery of Tralee Bay by night. Also they would undoubtedly have noticed that we had not yet been really inside the harbour. If they should ask the Shatter why we were remaining here the explanation would be that we had trouble with the engines, which would cause much less suspicion than suddenly clearing out and saying good-bye to Tralee. We were all agreed on this, and I therefore decided to remain if possible until nightfall. If some stout Sinn Feiner should turn up before that time he would certainly make every effort to give us a sign if nothing more.

As a precautionary measure I had the munitions covered up with ropes and other rubbish and then had the hatches closed. You never can tell! Then the chief engineer, Rost, and his men got to work and thoroughly overhauled the engines in preparation for a run 'all out.' While this was being done the forenoon passed without any other event of interest.

CHAPTER XIX A STERN CHASE

Shortly after 1 p.m. we noticed a small steamer beyond Kerry Head on the north side of the Shannon. The foam at her bows told us that she was travelling at high speed. As she was holding a westerly course I had at first no suspicions. She was still so far off that even with our prismatic glasses I could make out nothing. I therefore got the big glass, which had already stood me in good stead so many times, and perceived to my astonishment that the steamer had a long gun completely uncovered mounted on her forecastle deck. Her tall top masts showed that she had a wireless installation.

Another patrol-boat, then,—but this time a much bigger and more modern one than our friend the Shatter. I handed my glass to the mate, so that he could see for himself. He had scarcely focused on the boat when he hastily exclaimed, 'She is altering course—she's coming straight for us.' I could see now with the naked eye that this was a fact. The place was getting unhealthy for us, and we needed no time for deliberation over our next move.

'All hands on deck, stand by to weigh anchor!' 'Have steam up for full speed.' All hands were at their stations in a moment. The capstan creaked and groaned in every joint. Bump, bump. All at once it stopped. The anchor had evidently got wedged between the rocks. I felt as if I were standing on hot coals. I had actually put the telegraph forward in order to simply part the cable or to slip it, when the capstan started to turn again. As soon as ever the anchor was free we started. Course, due west! And high time it was, for the stranger was visibly drawing nearer. We judged the distance to be at most nine miles. So long as she did not catch us up we were all right, for we were still a neutral steamer, so far as she was concerned. I had worked out in my head what had happened. Loop Head had presumably warned the naval base at Limerick about us, and the admiral in command there, probably not trusting too much to his Shatter II., had sent out a bigger boat to Tralee to have a closer look at the suspicious Norwegian. (A high English officer assured me later that my guess was practically correct.) A flotilla flag at her mast-head, and the fact that she altered course to south-west as soon as we started, confirmed my conjecture. Her unmistakable intention, therefore, was to cut us off. It was now more than ever a question of legging it. (We could no more risk a second examination than we could risk an exchange of shells in which we, with our old Russian rifles and home-made guns would certainly have come off second best.)

In order to get full steam quickly, I ordered all hands to the stokehold. I myself went to the wheel and kept the Aud quite close to the coast, for the rocky shore is here so steep that one can approach with safety within forty yards. The dense clouds of smoke from our funnel swept along the rocky wall and whirled into the deep fissures, as if drawn into an airshaft.

The English boat was coming dangerously near. The question now was which of us had the longest legs. We reckoned she was doing twelve knots or more; we, on former occasions, had never done more than eleven. It was therefore to be expected that she would slowly but surely catch us. That was to be avoided at any cost.

In order to further encourage the men in the stokehold I called down to them from time to time through the voice-pipe the distance between us. They worked like horses, and after some time I was able to state that we were keeping our lead. Why the English boat did not at least send a shot across our bows is still a mystery to me, especially when she found that we took no notice whatever of her constant signals.

In the meantime we had approached our old friend the Shatter, which was leisurely wallowing up and down just under the battery at about 500 yards from the shore. She seemed to have noticed us at last, for she turned slowly and steamed towards us. I therefore called the second mate up on the bridge, telling him to keep his eye on the Shatter, and gave the wheel to A.B. Strehlau.

We had gradually come so near that without the glasses we could now perceive the guns of the battery trained on us. A lively exchange of signals was taking place between the battery and our pursuer. And then a signal was hoisted on the Shatter also. Unfortunately, it was impossible to read it for there was not a breath of wind. The devil! Had the rascal been deceiving us, and was the drunkenness all playacting, in order to be able to attack us in front in conjunction with the battery, while the other boat attacked us behind?

For one moment I was inclined to fear some such stratagem, for it appeared impossible that the Shatter's signal could mean anything but 'Stop at once.' As a precautionary measure I therefore ordered all preparations for blowing up the ship. At the same time I gave the order to starboard the helm, in order to ram the Shatter, for I was determined that if we went down we should take her with us. The next few seconds must decide our fate. We were going straight for the Shatter at full speed, but she made no effort to escape being rammed. What could be the explanation? I gazed steadily through the glasses. Suddenly the Shatter turned to port, and as she heeled over for an instant on account of the sudden turn, we read the signal. We could not believe our eyes. From the signal halliards of the Shatter fluttered the signal I knew so well in the old days, 'T.D.L.'—'Bon voyage.'

I rushed to the helm, tore the wheel round to port, and anxiously counted the seconds till the Aud began to answer the helm. Fortunately, the high speed at which we were going made the rudder effective—but only just in time. All our lives hung on the fraction of a second. In the very next second we shot past the English boat not a ship's length off.

All this, of course, happened in much less time than it takes to tell it. But the greatest surprise of all was still reserved for us. The brave captain was standing on his little bridge holding on like grim death to the rail. His crew stood, or rather lurched, about on the deck. At the moment when we ran past him at full speed he tore his hat off, waved it round his head, yelling like a Red Indian, and called for 'Three Cheers for the Aud,' to which his crew bawled an enthusiastic response.

If at this moment I had had a couple of bottles of whisky by me on the bridge I would have willingly thrown them to the crew of the Shatter out of gratitude for this ovation; for there can be no doubt that the conduct of the Shatter crew at the very least made the battery officer uncertain of his ground. (I heard later that the battery, in response to a signal from our pursuer, was just about to fire at us while we were standing away from it, but did not do so because the cheers of the Shatter crew seemed to indicate that we had been the victims of some mistake.) Of course, we answered the greeting of the Shatter with cap-waving and a friendly 'Good-bye!' Düsselmann, in fact, ran up the signal, 'X.O.R.'—Thank you. To cap it all, I dipped my flag, as we left the most friendly Englishman I have ever met on the seas. None of us, I am certain, will ever forget this moment.

It was not till afterwards that I heard from the crew that our lives hung once more in the balance. One of the crew had mistaken my order to dip the flag and was under the impression that I had said 'Tyske,' which was our pre-arranged signal for blowing up the ship. He was just about to break out the German naval ensign at the stern, and the chief engineer stood ready with the fuse, when the mistake was realised. So this little entr'acte went off all right—at any rate so far as we were concerned. Not for the captain of the Shatter, however; for I heard some months later that the English Admiralty considered his conduct too 'gentlemanlike' and deprived him of his commission after a court-martial had sentenced him to imprisonment.

The battery now lay a good mile astern, but we were still within range of its guns and our pursuer was close on our heels. We therefore had to make every effort to increase the distance, which was, of course, largely a question of correct steering. So the first mate took over the wheel, while the second mate worked the engine-room telegraph. Down below my brave stokers, half naked and with sweat literally pouring down, toiled at the glowing furnaces, while the others untiringly fetched baskets of coal from the bunkers. The engineers stood at their stations in the engine-room, ready each moment to carry out the orders as they came from the bridge. We were steaming with every ounce of pressure we could get.

Meanwhile, the English boat had drawn nearer. The second mate at once shouted down the tube, 'Get up more steam, the Englishman will be alongside in no time.' And with a sinister smile he added, 'If you fellows can't make more steam, say the word. The fuse is ready. But in that case please label your bones.' The noise of shovels, the banging of furnace-doors, and a loud cheer were the answer that came up from the engine-room. The chief-engineer came puffing up the ladder and shouted to me, 'Captain, if we go on like this the boilers will burst. The steam is long past the red mark.'

'I thought it was long ago. But it's no good worrying about that, my dear fellow. We must break through at all costs. As it is, we have still got a chance; but if this fellow astern of us succeeds in catching us we can make our wills.' He shook his head seriously. Then he plunged down again into his own domain below, and encouraged his men to work as if the devil were at our heels.

By now the wireless boat had come up with the Shatter, which was still making leisurely for Tralee. To our joy we noticed the other vessel carefully manœuvring in order to come alongside the Shatter. This gave us a good start, and we could see several people jump from the wireless boat, which was letting off a white cloud of hissing steam, on board the Shatter. What happened then was not hard to guess. But the captain of the Shatter will certainly not reveal it as long as he lives. Unfortunately, we were unable to watch the proceedings from close range.

After an interval of about five minutes the Shatter went about and then both boats took up the chase. But our pursuers had lost so much time in laying their ship alongside the Shatter that they had little chance of overtaking us, for our brave little Aud was now, according to the patent log, doing more than thirteen knots.

The coastline now bent round towards SW., and as we were still keeping the same distance from it, we were soon out of sight of the battery. Keeping the same speed, we ran for another hour and a half, and noted with joy that our pursuers were visibly dropping behind. The English also soon saw the impossibility of overtaking us, for they suddenly turned off to port and steamed slowly towards the coast, where they soon disappeared in one of the many bays.

It was getting on for half-past three, so we must already have put some miles behind us. When the engine-room staff heard that our pursuers had given up the chase they greeted the news with three rousing cheers. We all gave a sigh of relief, especially the chief-engineer, who lost no time now in letting the steam down below the red danger mark on the pressure gauge.

We were now getting near the mouth of the bay. The sea was studded all over with little islands and rocks, some of which projected only a couple of feet out of the water. One of the larger islands aroused our interest. At the foot of the massive, rocky wall there was a semicircular opening of natural formation so big that a sailing-boat could comfortably go through to the far side. Unfortunately, the chart showed so many shallows between these islands that I felt bound, under the circumstances, to take the longer course round the outlying islands, a proceeding which, at any rate, gave me more freedom of movement. And that was at the moment more important than ever, for it was inconceivable that the captain of the wireless boat, after giving up the hopeless chase, would sit down and do nothing. So we were not particularly pleased when we noticed a lighthouse with signalling station and wireless installation facing the sea on Dunmore Island, the last island on the south side of the bay.

Without doubt these people already knew all about our flight. Fortunately for us, however, they were unarmed, so that we had to reckon only with the fact that they would watch us and report every alteration of our course to the nearest coastguard stations and ships.

The Atlantic now lay before us, and I had the choice of steering north, west, or south. South appeared to me to be the best, for even if we had aroused suspicion the English had so far had no positive proof against us. The Norwegian flag still flew at our stern, and as I had told the captain of the Shatter that we were bound for Cardiff and then for Italy, I thought it was best to keep up appearances while it was still daylight, and to steer a southerly course. If a warship should then come along we should be able to justify our course by means of our manifest. Then, when it got dark, I intended to turn westwards in order to get away from the patrolled coastal area.

CHAPTER XX THE 'PHANTOM SHIP' IN A TRAP

At the mouth of Tralee Bay we met a stiff north wind, and here and there the waves were topped with foam. A couple of small steamers deeply laden were crawling along northwards, hugging the coast, for they were too much afraid of the German submarines to venture out on the open sea. The second one was a Norwegian—'like ourselves.' The name was, on account of the distance, unreadable, but the shape of the vessel was devilishly like that of the Aud. I wonder if this was the real Aud, which was due back from the Mediterranean just about this time. It would have been a nice rencontre for us. Unfortunately, I was unable even afterwards to ascertain the facts. The only information about our double that reached me was a newspaper article some months later which stated that the Norwegian steamer Aud, from Bergen, had been torpedoed and sunk on the 2nd of October of the same year.

Favoured by wind and current, we were now steaming at a good speed into the Atlantic, slowly but surely turning away from the coast so as to raise no suspicion. Shall we succeed?... I would really have preferred to see the sky overcast and a good high sea running. That would have been the best protection against the English patrol ships. It was, however, now and afterwards, most beautiful clear weather. Not a wisp of smoke was visible on the horizon. We had still nearly four hours of daylight in front of us.

I need not tell how anxiously we all waited for the sun to go down.

In view of our successful flight from Tralee the crew were already busy with plans for the future. They thought we could now start at once on our war with the dummy guns. They were so pleased with the imminent prospect of commerce-raiding that they sang all sorts of lively songs to the accompaniment of a concertina, and in order to avoid spoiling their fun I did not let them notice how little enthusiasm I have for concerts of this sort.

Towards 6 p.m., a smoke-cloud was noticed in the south-west, which grew larger every moment and rapidly came nearer. Soon afterwards we noticed a second smoke-cloud, and it came so close after the first that it was evidently from the same vessel. So we had a two-funnelled steamer ahead of us. Then the mastheads came in view, the wireless-masts, and the spotting-top. There could be no doubt about it—she was an English warship. We estimated that she was doing at least twenty knots. If we now tried to run away at our tramp-steamer speed she would catch us in a hour—if she did not honour us before then with a shell. So carry on! only cool heads could help us now—together with a fair amount of impudence.

The warship was travelling at top speed, and it was not long before her upper works and then the whole of her hull came into view. It was an auxiliary cruiser, one of the fast channel steamers which in peace-time ply between England and France. By this time we were, of course, at action stations on board the Aud; that is to say, all preparations had been made for blowing up the ship, the suspicious material was all packed away in the 'magic-box,' the engines were at half-speed, and I myself was marching dead slow up and down the bridge. We were once more the old tramp-crew of a few days before.

The cruiser was no doubt one of those which had been warned some hours previously by the wireless-ship. What we had to expect this time was, at the very least, a thorough examination of the vessel. And even if we came successfully through this we should probably be escorted to the nearest port, where the suspicious Aud would be unloaded and her cargo of munitions revealed. Now followed some minutes of tense expectation. Only half a mile separated us from the cruiser. Her armament, consisting of several 4.5 guns and a number of machine-guns, was clearly visible. We expected she would come within hailing distance. But she did not. Instead of that she steamed alongside us in a zigzag course for about ten minutes. The signal we were expecting never came. Nearly her whole crew stood on deck, gazing at us with curiosity. We went ahead as if it were no concern of ours. But who can describe our astonishment when the English ship, as if she had seen all she wanted to see, turned sharply east and steamed off as she had come, at top speed! Now, what did this mean? We had no idea at that time that it was the fear of our imaginary 'heavy guns,' our 'torpedoes,' and the 'submarines that were escorting us,' that had kept the cruiser at a distance and had sent her off post-haste for reinforcements! Unfortunately, these were not long in coming up. The sun was now low down in the west and threw such a dazzling glare on the water that it was actually painful to scan the horizon. In doing so we soon made the unpleasant discovery that our cruiser was not the only ship in view. Almost ahead, a little on the starboard bow, another English ship was coming up, and to starboard—yes, what the devil was that? Ahead, astern, in fact all round us, we could see smoke clouds, which, as was soon evident, came from other monsters similar to the first. All auxiliary cruisers, and all of the same type. All the steamers of the channel service seemed to have been concentrated against us.[15]

There was no necessity for deliberation. We were hemmed in all round, and there was no way out. All these ships, armed with guns and machine-guns, against our little Aud, whose sole armament consisted of a couple of wooden cannon. And still these fellows appeared to be horribly afraid of us, for they still kept their distance, zigzagging round us. It showed that they expected at any moment a shell or a torpedo. I really had to laugh at these heroes of the sea.

As nobody had yet barred our way we kept on our course at the same speed. Something is bound to happen, said I to myself, for this can hardly be intended as a guard of honour. And something did happen at last. Shortly after seven o'clock the cruiser which we had first sighted came so close that we could easily read her name—Bluebell. At the same time she ran up a signal, 'Stop at once.' The other ships kept at a respectful distance, their guns cleared for action. We were prepared for all eventualities. On the forecastle-head the ship's dog was barking as if mad. His instinct told him that he had to play his rôle very carefully now. As soon as I stopped the ship other signals followed: 'What ship is that?' 'Where are you from?' 'Where are you bound for?'

I could not now give Cardiff as my immediate destination, as we had gone too far off the course. So, in order to give a credible answer, I replied 'Genoa and Naples.' For, in case of necessity, we still had on board a number of doors and window-frames bearing this address. I had retained them at the time with a view to building a deck-house in order to alter our appearance if necessary. In hoisting the signal one of my crew intentionally broke the signal halliards. This was a brilliant idea, for every moment's delay might be important. Even if no U-boat came to our help, the darkness which was rapidly falling might save us. A tramp steamer like the Aud could not be expected to have spare signal halliards. In order to convince the English of our willingness, however, we hung out, one after the other, from the bridge the flags that composed the message. In this cumbersome fashion we signalled backwards and forwards for about a quarter of an hour. Then came a long pause, during which the searchlights on the Bluebell were used in order to communicate with the other ships. The continual crackling from her aerials proved also that wireless was being used. Other ships had in the meantime come on the scene, and the commander of this flotilla appeared to be on board one of them, for the signals from all the ships were now directed to this particular cruiser. All of a sudden the Bluebell signalled to us 'Proceed!'

We were prepared for anything—except that we should be let go scot-free. We did not wait to be told twice, and in a few moments the Aud was again under way. In order to conclude the affair in the approved manner, I ordered the first mate to dip our flag slowly and respectfully, which visibly impressed the English, for they returned our salute most courteously. It really appeared as if these English folk were convinced that we actually were the Norwegian Aud, as we had stated. All the same, I did not feel too easy in my mind as we steamed away. I could not persuade myself that we had bluffed this lot also, especially as they had not only been warned but actually been sent to intercept us, as was clear from the catechism we had just gone through. When we had gone some distance I therefore ordered the speed to be gradually increased, so that we should get away as quickly as possible from the enemy.

We did not need to worry very long. We had already put a considerable distance between us. The cruisers had stopped and now lay like a swarm of locusts in one spot, apparently holding a council of war. Eight bells had just been struck, when there was a commotion astern of us. The whole swarm suddenly turned south and came racing after us like a pack of hounds. At the mast of the leading vessel flew the familiar signal, 'Stop at once.' For the second time I stopped the engines and waited events—for unfortunately no other course was open to us. If we had not stopped they would have set about us at once. I waited for perhaps five minutes, and as nothing else happened in that time beyond the fact that the enemy had come considerably nearer, I got a bit impatient and signalled, 'Why?' Instead of answering our signal our old friend the Bluebell steamed to within 150 yards of us, stopped, and prepared to lower the cutter. Two officers and about twelve seamen, all armed to the teeth, had taken their places in it. So here was the prize crew at last! A load fell from all our hearts, for there was an excellent prospect that we might escape during the night while Fastnet or Queenstown waited for us in vain. When I shouted down to the deck, 'Look out! Prize crew coming,' the mate grinned all over his face. And others grinned with him, for now, as they said, there was a chance of doing something at last.

During this time the chief engineer was busy forward repairing a steam winch, and in order to see if it was working again he let it run for a moment. It may have been because of this noise, or because the English mistook some empty tin or other floating object for a periscope—at any rate immediately the winch started we heard shouts all round us mingled with the ringing of engine-room telegraphs, and next moment the whole flotilla scattered as if struck by lightning.[16]

Once more we were all alone on the sea. This was a cat-and-mouse game with a vengeance. In order to put an end to the business I now signalled, 'May I proceed?' The answer was 'Wait.' While the cruisers slowly approached again, I signalled, 'Please inform me why.' This time there was a long pause before the reply came. And a very unpleasant reply it was: 'Follow me to Queenstown; course, south, 63° east.'

Curse it—they had got suspicious! Our fate was now decided.

With a prize crew on board, which would have been dealt with according to plan, we might have gained the high seas during the night; but with an escort of armed fast steamers this was out of the question. Even in thick fog and the darkness of night it is very doubtful if we could have broken away from our escort.

Now, as in the case of all the other signals, I answered first with, 'Don't understand,' for my only aim now was to gain time and try to get them to put a prize crew on board. In that case an escort would have been unnecessary. The cruiser really made every effort to make his signal intelligible.

But the more trouble he took the less understanding we showed. We seemed to have lost every shred of intelligence on board the Aud. In justice to them, I must confess that the crew of the Bluebell did their best to help us; they tugged like mad at the signal halliards, and altered course over and over again, in order to let their flags blow out in the wind. But all in vain! Nothing could make us understand what they wanted!

The English did not appear to notice that we were fooling them, for (greatly daring) they came so close to us that the most shortsighted could have read the message. But I only shook my head, held the signal-book aloft, and pointed to it with my finger, to indicate that this signal was not given in our book. Then the Bluebell plucked up courage and approached very, very carefully to within fifty yards of us.

While this ridiculous exchange of signals was going on it had gradually become dark, so that it really was difficult now to read the signals. The Bluebell noticed this, for we now saw a man with a huge megaphone preparing to shout something to us from the bridge. In order to forestall him, I shouted, 'Shall I let down a ladder for your prize crew?' Instead of answering my question, the Bluebell sheered off about forty yards from us, and her officers showed us by all sorts of pantomime that they had no intention of sending a boat. My very friendly invitation had failed.

If we had only known what a mysterious ship we were supposed to be, the armament and U-boat escort that we were credited with, many things would have been more intelligible to us. As I read to-day the English papers of those days, I come upon the most incredible reports in regard to our little Aud. 'The Mystery Ship,' 'The Flying Dutchman,' and other scare headlines followed by the most fantastic accounts prove what excitement the Aud caused in England, and, above all, among the vessels of the coast-patrol.

The other cruisers had meanwhile formed a ring round us. On some the guns were manned and ready to fire at us. At the slightest hostile move on our part we should have been riddled like a sieve. Aboard the Bluebell a diminutive lieutenant was now enthroned on the signalling bridge, armed with a gigantic megaphone through which he continued to shout, 'Fol-low-me-to-Quee-ee-eenstown.—South—sixty-three—east!' This was repeated time after time, but always with the same negative result.

This farce might have gone on all night, and I was beginning to get tired of it. And the English captain also appeared to be losing patience, for I saw him sign to the speaker to come down. Then we heard a few curt orders. The cruiser passed us on the port side. The next moment there was a flash, and a shell from the Bluebell's forward gun burst in front of our bows. As we were directly in his line of fire we were all stupefied for a moment by the violence of the concussion.

In plain English this meant, 'The farce is finished. Curtain!' As we were not very anxious for any more shells (the next would most certainly go, not across our bow, but into it), I shouted loud enough for the English to hear, 'Full speed ahead, south, 63 east.' At the same time I sent a message to the chief-engineer that I would hang him from the yardarm if this 'full speed' rose above five knots.

We reckoned it out that at this speed we should reach Queenstown at ten o'clock next morning. There was nothing left for us but to follow the cruiser. Further resistance would have been useless. We therefore wallowed along at a 'speed' of five knots behind the Bluebell, which now took the lead, while the other ships spread out all round us. A magnificent escort for us twenty-two men! The wind shifted to NNW. and then died down, while the few clouds which were still in the sky disappeared. With them disappeared our last hope of escape.

The Bluebell, as was to be expected, was not very pleased with our speed. But all her protests (made by means of a signalling-lamp) did not help a bit. The more his signals flashed the slower we became. The conversation was very funny. For instead of using the electric Morse-lamp we used a small paraffin lamp, making the dots and dashes by holding a hand in front. This was, of course, an extremely cumbersome method, and the ever-increasing rage of the English amused us immensely.

More than a dozen times they signalled 'Faster,' to which I replied at first, 'Don't understand.' Afterwards I answered curtly, 'Impossible.'

'Why?' demanded the Bluebell.

'Engines broken down.'

Then a long pause—they were most probably debating how they might compel us to increase our speed. After some time we were informed, 'If you don't get up full speed at once I will make you.' This did not sound very friendly, but I did not worry much, for I said to myself that, after all the anxiety which the enemy had shown to get us to the nearest port, they were not likely to fire at us. The most they would do would be to send a prize crew on board, which was exactly what I wanted. Then, even if the ships remained by us, their watchfulness would be certain to relax. So instead of answering the threat I replied, 'Come and see for yourself.' This was a piece of impudence, but it was just possible it might prove our salvation.

To my chagrin, however, the English showed no desire to accept my invitation. They resigned themselves to their fate, and we had very few more signals from them. Our pace now became a crawl. With the patience of sheep, they steamed along, zigzagging now to the left, now to the right, evidently afraid we might discharge a torpedo at them any moment. The various orders for altering course had all to be repeated about ten times before we pretended to understand, and the Bluebell took it all without further protest.