With an effort he pulled himself together, clicked his heels and saluted the British senior officer. Then fumbling in his breast pocket he produced a document and handed it to the captain.
It was a formal surrender.
In it Kapitan von Riesser agreed to hand over the Pelikan at the hour of nine on the following morning.
"Very good," said Captain Holloway. "We are willing to give you a few hours' respite, but you are to clearly understand that nothing must be done in that interval that will affect the Pelikan from a military point of view. You must also send the Myra's men down by boat before sunset."
"To that I agree," replied von Langer, and stiffly refusing the invitation to have a glass of wine the German officer went over the side.
Von Langer's steam cutter was barely out of sight when a couple of German officers belonging to the land forces appeared on the bank, bearing a white flag.
Their business was quickly transacted. They desired to surrender forthwith and unconditionally the remaining troops under their command. Within an hour eighty-five men, many of them badly wounded, were shipped on board the sea-plane parent ship Simplicita. Out of the three hundred reservists who had transhipped from the San Matias to the Pelikan but thirty-three were untouched by the British fire.
Well before sunset the first of the conditions of the Pelikan's surrender was carried out. The steam cutter returned towing a whaler in which were the crew of the Myra. British reticence went by the board when they hove in sight. They cheered frantically like delighted children. Having been under the talons of the German Eagle, they realized more than ever before the world-wide power of Britain's sea-power.
Amongst them was Captain Pennington, who was warmly greeted by the officers of the Crustacean.
He reported that the Pelikan was being prepared for surrender; that her garb of palms was being removed, but as far as he knew no attempt had been made to throw overboard the remaining guns, or to destroy the stores and munitions.