"Perfectly," replied the captain.
The lieutenant continued, "There are eleven hundred soldiers on board, with arms and ammunition and supplies. Are you prepared to follow the Naniwa, sir?"
"I am willing to do so," replied the captain. "Will you favour me with your esteemed name?"
"Lieutenant Hitomi," was the reply. "Yours, sir, is Goldheugh?"
The captain bowed; the lieutenant bowed in response, and was then most politely escorted to the gangway, whence he was rowed to the Naniwa, as he had named her. She was painted white, and had one funnel.
She was, and is, a fine ship, and I scrutinised her size and guns and equipage of modern appearance. She was armed with two 26 c.m. twenty-eight-ton Armstrong guns; six 15 c.m. five-ton Krupps; besides machine guns—a heavy armament for a ship of something under four thousand tons, I estimated. She carried three hundred and fifty-seven men, and could steam eighteen knots. These details I learned later; at the moment of the lieutenant's departure I was fascinated by her guns. It seemed so unreal to me. War was so unexpected by us, though I gathered that it had been brewing for months. Still it is always disturbing and alarming, even if one is not face to face with it, as I was.
When the Japanese officer had returned to the ship, the Chinese generals came up with the German officer to make inquiries. The major was not present when the explanation had been made, but he understood that our captain had mentioned him as a "passenger."
"I did so, sir; I told the lieutenant. Did you not hear what I said?"
"No," replied the passenger. "If you had called me, as we agreed "—
"Bless my soul, what time had I to call anyone?" exclaimed the captain. "The man didn't wait for any explanations. He asked me questions, and when I had replied he was off like a shot; and maybe he'll treat us to one presently, though I suppose it isn't his fault. What are the generals going to do?"