"By Jove!" ejaculated O'Hara. "She must be one of our monitors. Now, where is she off to, I should like to know? There's something in the wind."
"BY JOVE!" EJACULATED O'HARA, "SHE MUST BE ONE OF OUR MONITORS."
Kapitan von Riesser could have answered the question. He stood on the bridge, glasses glued to his face and rage in his heart. There could be but one solution. The monitor was bound for the Indian Ocean, to take part in the forthcoming operations against the Germans in East Africa.
"Donnerwetter!" muttered von Riesser. "These accursed English. They may throw away their opportunities on land, but they know how to do things at sea."
"Shall I carry on, sir?" asked the officer of the watch.
"No, port helm," ordered the kapitan. Then realizing that the carrying out of this command might arouse the suspicions of the British cruiser, he had the Pelikan steadied on her helm. The course would bring her within a mile of the cruiser and her tow.
"The cheek!" exclaimed Stirling. "Old von Riesser's going to play a game of bluff."
"I vote we semaphore," suggested O'Hara impulsively. "We'd do the trick before they could stop us."