On board, everything was still in the same condition as when the English crew abandoned her—a welter of oddments of various kinds, hastily pulled-out drawers, papers, and so forth. The engines and boilers, which had been overhauled by the dockyard people, and the living accommodation for officers and men, which had likewise been re-conditioned, made by contrast a quite satisfactory impression. On the bridge, on the other hand, and in the chart-house—with us the holy-of-holies of every ship—everything was rather neglected-looking. In an English tramp steamer that did not, of course, surprise us.

After the necessary interviews, we formally took over the ship; and a watch was set, to make sure that no unauthorised person found his way on board.

We were to start next morning on the first stage of our voyage, and from now on there was to be no leave, so we had plenty of time to shake down into our new quarters, and with the small quantity of belongings that we had with us that was soon accomplished—except in the case of two of our number. The exceptions were the cook and steward, excellent fellows both, all-round men, who were as useful on deck as in their own domains. These latter, in the Libau, were from their point of view of a truly magnificent spaciousness, for in the little outpost-boats they had been accustomed to perform the mysteries of their office in the most cramped of two-by-fours. In stormy weather, up to their knees in water, holding their gear with both hands, and themselves by their eyelashes, they had perforce adapted themselves to a painfully acrobatic existence. Now they could spread themselves to their heart's content; and so they rattled and rummaged, and arranged and rearranged their possessions, until far into the night.

As for me, as I lay in my bunk that night I could not help recalling how, a bare two years before, while still fourth-officer of a Lloyd liner, I used often to picture to myself how splendid it would be to be given the command of an ocean-going steamer, while one was still young enough to enjoy it. At that time the goal of my desires seemed infinitely distant. Now I stood on the threshold of their fulfilment.

That night I slept excellently—for the last time for many months.


CHAPTER II THE MYSTERY SHIP

We sailed on the following day for Wilhelmshaven, to complete our fitting out, and once arrived there, preparations were pushed on apace. Two or three specially picked, trustworthy dockyard hands, carried out such technical work as my own men were not able to deal with. Apart from this, no one was allowed to enter or leave the ship; even officers of the highest rank were refused admission.

We were screened on the landside from curious eyes, as we lay alongside the much higher and larger Möwe, which had returned shortly before from her first glorious voyage.