"What is this about the Schwartz-Kopff manual?" he asked. "Where is the one you found on the yacht?"
"I found nothing of that description, Herr Commandant," replied the lieutenant.
"The prisoner says he had one. You must have overlooked it. And now that accursed yacht is drifting in the German Ocean with a priceless secret stowed away on board. I would give twenty thousand marks to get her back again. Hasten and order the fourth flotilla to cruise in search of her."
"It is already too late, sir. The yacht was picked up by a Dutch trawler and towed into the Dollart. I thought——"
"You thought, dolt!" interrupted the commandant angrily. "Yet it may not be too late. Find out at what port this yacht is lying. Get our agent there to keep us well-informed of all that occurs. The craft will doubtless be sailed back to England. After to-day you will cruise off the Dollart. It will not be necessary to keep out of sight of land provided you raise no suspicion. Two torpedo boats will be sufficient, or even one. Directly the yacht sets sail our agent will wire to me. I will communicate with you by wireless if you do not observe her leaving port. Then do something that will enable you to take possession of the vessel without exciting undue attention."
"We could disable her by collision, sir."
"Excellent. Mind you do it; but take care that she is not sunk. Then tow her back here. We will then be able to discover the all-important book that this fool of an Englishman has babbled about."
Von Wittelsbach was extremely reticent during the luncheon interval. In his innermost mind he devoutly wished that he had exercised more discretion before issuing orders that Hamerton and the American were to be arrested as spies. But the die had been cast. He had taken the first step. His iron will must see the business through. And then the complication in connection with the torpedo manual? He realized that if the book still remained on board the yacht it would sooner or later be discovered. To allow a confidential book like that to fall into the hands of a foreign Government—the British, above all!—was bad enough. Add to that the consternation that the discovery of the book would occasion; and it became fairly evident that there would be embarrassing questions raised by parties interested in the supposed deceased crew of the yacht. Hence his anxiety to regain possession of the Diomeda.
When the court reassembled it was merely to conclude proceedings. The prisoners were found guilty and sentenced to five years' close confinement in the fortress of Heligoland.
A confidential report drawn up in Von Wittelsbach's own handwriting was dispatched to the Admiralty at Berlin, and an official account of the trial sent to the Press. The latter had been carefully censored by the commandant. He felt tolerably safe, except for the fact that the Diomeda was not back in South Haven at Heligoland. His secret was shared by five men only: the others present in the court were, owing to their inability to understand English, ignorant of the material facts of the case. Each of those five he thought he could rely upon, since their career depended solely upon the commandant's periodical reports to the German War Office.