The "Saraband" immediately "made her number" and hoisted her ensign. By this time the approach of the cruiser had been noticed by the passengers, whose interest became intense, although they were still in ignorance of the fact that a state of war existed between Great Britain and Germany.
"Thank Heaven!" ejaculated Lymore fervently, as the White Ensign was hoisted to the masthead of the cruiser, which was, it was remarked, fully cleared for action.
"Don't be too cocksure," remonstrated the "old man."
"She's a British cruiser, sir," protested the chief officer. "One of the 'Town' class, that I'll swear. There she goes: code flag over 'H,' sir."
The signal to stop was quickly complied with. Orders were telegraphed to the engine-room for half-speed astern until the "Saraband" lost way. The cruiser swung round in a semi-circle and likewise stopped within two cables' length. A boat was lowered, manned, and rowed towards the "Saraband."
"Clear the promenade deck, Mr. Lymore," ordered the captain. "Request the passengers to go below. Don't give them any reason—let them think what they jolly well like. Mr. Aubyn, see that the accommodation ladder is shipped. You will receive the naval officer and pay him the proper compliments."
The boarding officer proved to be a youthful lieutenant. Terence escorted him to the bridge, where he immediately subjected Captain Ramshaw to a close examination.
"Have you sighted any German armed merchantmen?" asked the officer, whose ship, it transpired, was the light cruiser "Padstow."
"The 'Hertzolf:' that was before war was declared."
"Have you communicated by wireless with any craft?"