The ober-leutnant gave another order. Unceremoniously the three British officers were hauled out of the bunks by the seamen, who seemed to take a delight in roughly handling anyone of commissioned rank. Perhaps, if von Langer did but know it, his men would have been only too pleased to use him in the same way, for the ober-leutnant was a Prussian and a Junker, while the crew were for the most part from Schleswig-Holstein.
With as much dignity as their dishevelled appearance would permit, Denbigh and his companions allowed themselves to be taken on deck, where they had to cool their heels at the pleasure of their captors. It was a bright moonlight night. The air was decidedly chilly for the Tropics. A heavy dew was falling. The lightly-clad men—for the sub-lieutenants were in pyjamas—realized that there was a grave risk of tropical fever.
The ship was once more under way. With a true seaman's instinct Denbigh glanced aloft. By the relative position of the moon—since no stars were visible—he was able to fix the approximate course of the vessel. She was steering roughly sou'-sou'-east. Far away to the nor'ard a masthead lamp was blinking—calling in Morse to know why they had been summoned.
Denbigh gave a grunt of satisfaction. For once von Riesser's plan had gone awry. He had feared to treacherously torpedo an unsuspecting merchantman since there were hostile eye-witnesses on board the Pelikan.
Presently the kapitan, clad in a greatcoat over his white uniform, appeared at the head of the bridge-ladder.
"You there, von Langer?" he called.
"Yes, sir," replied the ober-leutnant. "Shall I bring the prisoners to you?"
"No, I'll see them in my cabin," replied von Riesser. "Tell off a couple of hands to guard the prisoners and another half-dozen to wait outside in case there is any trouble. I'll be there in a few minutes."
The kapitan's quarters were situated aft on the upper deck. They comprised a large cabin, used for meals and recreation, and a sleeping cabin opening from it. Denbigh and his companions were marched into the outer cabin and told to take up a position facing von Riesser's empty arm-chair and separated from it by a long mahogany table.
The cabin was plainly furnished. In addition to the arm-chair and table there were two sideboards, a large book-rack, and half a dozen cane chairs. On the table lay a pile of Dutch charts. Books for navigation and sailing directions in the same language occupied the shelves in company with a few American novels.