Sheer astonishment rendered him incapable of completing the sentence. He could not understand why the British officer received him with unperturbed courtesy. Evidently here was something adrift with the Teutonic gospel of hate.
"So you were making for Latham Island to resurrect the hidden stores?" asked Denbigh, addressing the unter-leutnant.
The young German officer was also completely taken aback.
"Yes," he admitted. "But how came you to know that we had stores buried there?"
"That's a secret," replied the sub. "But I'll tell you this. You would have found yourselves forestalled. Some of the Pelikan's men made a dash for the island, fitted out the whaler, and left the place as bare as an empty house. They did not get far. The boat was capsized and all on board perished, except one man, who is now a prisoner on board this vessel."
"Now, gentlemen," broke in Stirling briskly, addressing the major and the unter-leutnant, "I must ask you to go below, but before doing so I will take the liberty of examining the contents of Major von Eckenstein's pockets."
"Himmel!" gasped the major. "For why? According to the rights of belligerents my personal property is not liable to be confiscated."
"Your personal property—yes," replied Stirling. "Come, sir, no fuss, if you please."
Sullenly the German permitted a petty officer to remove the contents of his pockets. There was an order-book, containing a few pencilled memoranda; a pocket-book in which were papers seemingly of purely personal interest; some notes on a South American bank.
"Kindly remove your waistcoat," continued the inexorable Stirling.