"Perhaps it is as well," rejoined Denbigh. "It hardly pays in the circumstances to argue the point with a Prussian."
Of what occurred during the next two hours the subs had only a vague idea.
Von Riesser realized that flight was out of the question. To attempt to do so would arouse suspicion, and since several swift cruisers were known to be off the coast, a wireless message would bring half a dozen speedy British warships upon the scene. He therefore decided to carry on, escape by a stratagem if possible, if not, fight in a final bid for liberty.
Since the waters adjacent to German East Africa had been declared to be in a state of blockade it was useless to hoist the mercantile flag of any nation, so the Blue Ensign of the British Reserve was displayed.
In less than half an hour the strange craft was plainly visible. She was a small tramp, also displaying the Blue Ensign.
Von Riesser heaved a sigh of relief. She was not an armed auxiliary, otherwise the White Ensign would have been used. More than likely she was one of the fleet of subsidized merchantmen carrying stores and munitions for the British Expeditionary Force operating against the sole remaining German colony.
The stranger hoisted a signal. It was in code and consequently unintelligible to the Pelikan. Von Riesser promptly replied by another hoist, the flags meaning nothing, but simply to puzzle the tramp.
The Pelikan held on her course, which, in defiance of the Rule of the Road at Sea, would bring across the bows of the other. That in itself was suspicious, but any alteration of helm would reveal the Pelikan's piebald sides.
At a distance of less than a mile the German vessel gave three blasts upon her siren, signifying that her engines were going astern. Nevertheless she was steaming ahead as hard as she could until deception was no longer possible.
An order from the bridge and the screens surrounding the guns were lowered revealing her formidable quick-firers.