"If that's what you've made me a prisoner for you might have spared yourself the trouble," he said pointedly. "As for the mine-fields, you'll fetch up against them right enough if you aren't sent to Davy Jones by the latest anti-U-boat appliance, which ought to be in full working order by now."
"What appliance is that?" demanded von Loringhoven uneasily.
"I can understand your anxiety, but I won't enlighten you further on the matter," replied the master of the "Guiding Star."
The ober-leutnant literally snarled. He was baulked, and he knew it. He had made the mistake of gauging the British merchant skipper's calibre with that of the Hun.
"You'll feel sorry for yourself, Englishman, when we arrive at Wilhelmshaven," he said.
"Which will be never," rejoined the prisoner. "You'll be trapped, whether you make up-channel or try to dodge round the Orkneys."
"And I need hardly remind you," continued von Loringhoven, "that if anything befalls this vessel you will most certainly perish."
"I am not afraid to die," announced the master in a tone that carried conviction. "My only regret is that I may have to put up with a crowd of skulking German pirates for messmates in Davy Jones's locker."
With an oath von Loringhoven levelled an automatic pistol at the old man's head. Only the pressure of a few ounces upon the sensitive hair-trigger stood between the tramp's skipper and death. Not a muscle of his features moved as he calmly eyed the muzzle of the powerful weapon and the sardonic face of the pirate behind it.
Again von Loringhoven had made an error. He had failed entirely to intimidate or terrorise his helpless captive, and he was now on the horns of a dilemma. He did not want to shoot: it would come in handy to have a hostage should he find himself in a tight corner; on the other hand, once having levelled the pistol he could not without loss of dignity put the weapon down.