"That is a mistake. Cross the names from your notebook. Now tell me a common English name."
"Smith, sir."
"Then enter the names of the prisoners as John and Wilhelm Smith, brothers, of London."
"John and William Smith, sir," corrected the secretary, and without evincing the faintest surprise he made the alterations according to the commandant's directions.
"But the yacht, sir?" expostulated Major Von Schloss, who was beginning to see the drift of his superior's plan.
"That I have not overlooked, Herr Major. Wait until Lieutenant Schwalbe returns. Meanwhile, Rutter, let me have those papers for signature."
The secretary handed his chief a bundle of documents, and stood ready with a blotter. Von Wittelsbach did not shirk his work. Unlike many highly-paid British Government officials, who perfunctorily place their signatures to documents while hardly condescending to acquaint themselves with the nature of their contents, the commandant carefully read every paper before putting his signature to it.
At the same time he was no blind devotee of red-tapism. Amongst that pile of papers there was not one that could be regarded as purely formal; every one had some direct bearing upon the vast establishment under his command.
Before this particular task was completed Lieutenant Schwalbe returned, accompanied by Lieutenant Dort, the officer who had been left in charge of the Diomeda. Seeing their superior engaged, they drew themselves up and stood stiffly at attention till the last signature had been written and the documents handed back to the secretary.
"Well, Herr Dort, any evidence?"