Stirling was a poor German scholar; so much so that he was ashamed of the little German he knew. By sheer good luck, however, he recognized several of the words—sufficient to enable him to guess shrewdly the nature of the kapitan's order.
Stirling was very often lucky in that way. Even while he was hiding behind the ventilator he recalled a similar instance. It was on the occasion of his entry examination to Osborne, and Stirling was in those days an atrocious speller even for a youth of thirteen and a half. In the dictation subject the lad found himself balked by the word "adaptable". He was on the point of writing "adaptible" when he caught sight of some letters stamped upon the pen he was using: "The Adaptable Pen". When the result of the examination was announced Stirling found that he had only just attained the minimum marks in English to qualify. Afterwards he was apt to remark that he owed his commission to a twopenny pen which might, for aught he knew, have been made in Germany.
"By Jove, they're going to use that boat as a decoy," soliloquized the sub. "I'll risk it. Hang it all! If I'm spotted there can only be a shindy. With our cruiser pelting up astern and Denbigh and O'Hara below, they won't dare to try any of their kultur tricks."
The launch was now level with the rail. The men told off to attend to the disengaging gear were already on board, while down below an artificer was trying to coax the motor. Apparently he had trouble, for he called out to one of his mates to pass something to him. At that moment Kapitan von Riesser gave an order, and the unter-leutnant and his men faced for'ard.
In a trice Stirling slipped quietly over the rail at the heels of one of the crew. While the latter made his way for'ard to the motor-room the sub entered the little cabin. It was, as he expected, empty. Not knowing whether any of the launch's crew would remain, Stirling crept under the seat and waited.
The Pelikan was losing way. Her engines had been reversed in order to bring her almost to a standstill in the least possible time.
"Lower away!" shouted a voice in German which Stirling recognized as that of Unter-leutnant Klick.
The racing of the motor, which the artificer had at length succeeded in starting, drowned all other sounds. The propeller, racing in the air, was revolving at terrific speed. Unless the launch were quickly put into the water the motor would soon be overheated, since no cooling device was possible until the pump sucked water into the jackets surrounding the cylinders.
The artificer, his task accomplished, swung himself on to the Pelikan's deck, while directly the falls were cast off the two seamen swarmed up the ropes. Almost before Stirling was aware of it, the launch was speeding forward.
"Time I made a move," muttered the sub. With the utmost caution he emerged from his hiding-place and made his way to the well. The bright rays of the lamp lashed to the ensign-staff enabled him to see everything on deck. One glance told him that he was the only member of the crew. Already the Pelikan was lost to sight in the darkness.