And yet I hated to turn back. The one thing that gave me some small consolation was to find that all my men were equally unwilling to do so.
Well, but, if we stay, how long will they let us lie here? We had not long to wait for an answer. I was just discussing the question with my second, when suddenly we were startled by a shout from the look-out man: 'Steamer on the starboard bow.'... 'The pilot steamer!'
With all our thoughts concentrated for so long on the coming of the pilot, it was small wonder if, electrified by this shout, we leapt to the conclusion that the small steamer which was now rounding Kerry Head was actually bringing the pilot to us. I myself sprang to the signal halliards prepared to hoist our recognition signal; but as I did so, I kept an eye fixed on the steamer, which was heading straight for us. That was fortunate, for in the next few moments she ran up, not the Irish pilot flag, but the British naval ensign.
I personally did not hesitate a moment, but took to flight, that is to say, in accordance with an arrangement made for such cases, I faded away to my cabin, leaving it to the mate, Düsselmann, to stage the comedy which was now to open. All but a few of the men had also disappeared. Behind the curtain of my window I could watch comfortably the further development of events. A loud-voiced objurgation addressed to some of the men, and the heavy steps passing to and fro over my cabin told me that Düsselmann had already taken up his rôle. I looked at my watch. It was shortly after 5 a.m.
The first thing that struck me about the steamer was that she seemed to be in no hurry, and that the men on deck seemed to be still half asleep; the second, that the life-boats which hung at each side of her deck were dummies in painted metal, between which was concealed a quick-firing gun—a real live outpost-boat, therefore. On both sides of the bow flaunted in large lettering the name Shatter II.[14] Her officers did not appear to be distinguished for smartness and resolution, for they stopped their engines while still at a very discreet distance from us, and gathered in a group with their heads together, frequently pointing in our direction—evidently holding a council of war. That lasted about five minutes, then they got under way again, and circled two or three times round our ship, taking care not to come too near. They seemed somehow to show a lack of confidence in us. After a while they stopped again, and I saw them examining us through their glasses.
Before leaving the bridge I had hurriedly given an order to get the hatches closed down as rapidly as possible. The time had been too short, however, to complete the work. In answer to a question through the voice-pipe, the officer of the watch informed me that only hatchway No. 2, which was right under the bridge, had been hastily covered. That was a serious matter, for almost the whole business was plain to be seen by our English friends if they cared to look. On the port side, forward, there were even a few cases of munitions, with inscriptions such as '1000 English cartridges,' '2000 Russian cartridges,' standing on deck, where they had been brought up ready to be landed promptly.
On board the Shatter weighty consultations seemed to be the order of the day, for it was nearly a quarter of an hour longer before she found courage, after cruising round us yet once more, to come alongside at about twenty yards distance. Then I saw a uniformed figure with megaphone in hand preparing to begin a conversation with my officer of the watch. This was apparently the commanding officer of the proud warship. I inferred this from the fact that he ordered several of his men, armed with rifles and pistols, to take up their posts near him, in order, no doubt, to season the conversation, if need be, with a little peppering of shot. This rather reassured me; especially when I took a second look at the 'commanding officer.' An undersized, stocky figure, with a typical whisky-drinker's face, the colour of which was scarcely distinguishable from the red scarf which he wore round his neck. I had at once the feeling that things were going to be rather amusing. And so, in fact, it turned out.
FOOTNOTES:
[12] As this phrase is not self-explanatory—like cross-bearings from two points ashore—some readers may like to be reminded of the elementary geometry involved in the method here referred to of determining a position by the aid of a single known point. Having got his four-point (45°) bearing, he would proceed on the same course till he got an eight-point (90°) bearing. In a right-angled triangle, of which one of the other angles is 45°, the remaining angle is also 45°. The sides opposite these equal angles are also equal. That is to say, the distance from the rock (which is what he wants to know) is equal to the distance run between the times of taking the two bearings (which he can determine by log-speed and allowances for current, etc.).