The enthusiasm with which, for all their astonishment, the crew received my explanations, gave me confidence that I had made no mistake in my choice.
Our next care was to see that all articles in common use, clothing, flags, books, instruments, which all had too brand-new an appearance, were made to look as aged and venerable as befitted their importance. More especially, of course, did that apply to the ship's papers, the various letters and other evidences of the genuineness of our assumed character. A smoky candle to brown the documents, some dust from under a floor-mat rubbed in carefully with the palm of the hand, some oil and grease marks dabbed on with a ball of cotton-waste from the engine-room, these were the uninviting but effective means that we used in the operation. Frequent folding and crumpling of the papers gave the finishing touches.
The books received specially artistic treatment, for, according to the age which they had to live up to, we threw them one or more times upon the floor, dog-eared the corners, and loosened some of the leaves. My men developed a remarkable skill in working up their 'discharges,' and these were, before long, torn, dirty, and mended up with sticking plaster. It went to our hearts to subject to the like treatment our beautiful new kits, but stains of tar and paint, and some roughly put on patches, soon made them unrecognisable.
The cult of the beard had already made encouraging progress. In cases where it was too slow, we supplemented it a little with oil and coal dust.
On the hatches I had dozens of chalk marks, so called tally marks, and numbers painted on, as though the checkers had been very zealous in their office. Empty Norwegian preserved-meat tins and old Christiania newspapers were strewn about in the cabins. In short, we spared no effort to give our ship and ourselves an appearance corresponding to our assumed character; and enjoyed ourselves mightily in the process. Now that the tense expectation and uncertainty of the last few days had relaxed, and that the men knew what was at stake, and how many thousands of people were eagerly and anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Libau, they were almost wild with delight. No one thought about the dangers that lay before us. A single desire animated us all. 'On, on, into the enemy's territory; and then home again, covered with glory.' With such a splendid crew one could cheerfully face the devil himself!
About midnight I came to anchor off Warnemünde. The weather had unfortunately changed for the worse. The rising sea compelled me to alter my original plan of going through the Sound as a Swede and only becoming a Norwegian in the Kattegat. Owing to the difficulties of altering the paint work, that was only possible in good weather. I was obliged, therefore, to assume the Norwegian mask at once. There was no sleep for any one that night. Stages were slung over each side of the ship, and several men swarmed down, and, by the light of their electric pocket-lamps, painted the name, Aud-Norge in letters a yard and a half long on the sides.
The work was unfortunately often interrupted by the passing of steamers and fishing craft, at whose approach we had to put out our electric lamps, and other difficulties were caused by the rising sea, which often dashed over the stages and wet us up to our chests, and—worst of all—washed out at one sweep our laborious efforts with the brush. Undaunted, however, and stimulated by a couple of tots of spirits to keep out the cold, we stuck to our posts; for by morning the work must be done. And done it was. When the first streak of dawn appeared, the Aud, rocking contentedly to the Baltic swell, was ready to the last paint stroke.