“But I heard voices!” protested the old lady.
“Yes, ma’am—you would, if the stewards were cleaning up a wave. It makes ’em fluent!” said the chief officer.
To the Linton tribe, assembled in his cabin, the captain was more communicative.
“Schmidt is his name—Hans Schmidt. There’s any amount of evidence against him in the papers; the pocket-book he tried to throw out of the port contains much full and true information about our transports, a complete cipher code of signals, and translations of various other codes. It’s evident that the police were on his heels in Melbourne—that’s why he joined so hurriedly. He covered his tracks well, too; made them think he had gone to Brisbane. Otherwise, they would have caught him on the Perseus at Adelaide.”
“What did he hope to do?” Mr. Linton asked.
“Well, there was always a chance of his attracting a German cruiser. I don’t think it was a strong one—but of course you can’t tell. It would have simplified matters for him greatly; put him safely among his own people, and he would have done his beloved Fatherland a mighty big service in betraying a prize like this ship into its hands. He says he knew he was taking big risks for small chances, but apparently that didn’t trouble him. I don’t consider he’s to be blamed from his point of view, except in using his revolver; and that seems to distress him more than anything else. He asked for Dixon this morning, and apologised!”
“If he could have used it sufficiently, I don’t suppose it would have troubled him,” observed Mr. Linton.
“Oh, if he could have taken the ship, of course it wouldn’t!” the captain said, laughing. “Patriotism would have risen beyond any claims of mercy then. No—it’s because it was so futile to use it, and he risked damaging Dixon and the others for nothing. That consideration is really weighing on his mind. He’s one of those careful beggars who can’t bear making an error of judgment, I fancy.”
“I think I’m a little sorry for him,” Norah said. “After all, it was his own country he was battling for.”
“That’s so,” said the captain. “Put one of our fellows to play a lone game on a big German liner, and I fancy we’d be quite proud of him if he managed to signal a British cruiser. The shooting’s inexcusable, of course. Well, I’ve got to take him to England—I can’t have the ship delayed at Durban over a trial. And as the mouthpiece of the owners, I say, ‘Thank you very much!’ to Miss Norah and you two boys.”