The Dauntless steamed slowly up, and the German captain was taken on board of her as a prisoner, to be interrogated by Captain Damant. Shortly afterwards the whole of the crew were taken off and sent below into the seamen's quarters.
The proceedings were quite unusual, and Rodney Redisham did not understand them. Enlightenment came to him, however, when, instead of the barque's own crew, the same number of British seamen dressed up in the foreigners' clothes were put on board the Olaf. He himself was ordered to exchange his midshipman's uniform for canvas breeches and an engineer's jumper. Two lieutenants were similarly disguised, and put in command of the barque.
Rodney began to experience the excitement of a prospective adventure. The excitement was increased when three machine guns were transferred from the Dauntless to the decks of the Olaf Triggvason.
When all was ready the cruiser steamed away and the barque's sails were braced. Her German captain, under pressure, had given the bearings of the spot near which he had been instructed to lie in wait for the submarine, and for this spot the course was set.
It was in a secluded bay between two barren headlands, far away from any habitation. Outside this bay the vessel tacked to and fro and back and forth; but there was no sign of any submarine.
At the end of the first day the senior lieutenant shook his head and declared his belief that the German captain had deceived them. He anchored, knowing that no submarine would expect to find the ship in darkness. But at dawn he again set sail, and cruised within a radius of about a dozen miles. Returning towards the headlands at noon he was about to tack out again when his Marconi operator called him below. Some ship was trying to open communications.
The lieutenant went to the instrument-room, and a message came to him in international code asking the name of his ship. He purposely delayed his answer until the question had been repeated several times, then, giving the name of the ship, he added a guarded question in German.
There was no response for a long time; but he waited patiently, and at length a series of searching questions came to him as though they were from a British warship, demanding to know his exact position and destination and the nature of his cargo.
He knew perfectly well that there was no British warship, excepting the Dauntless, within twenty miles of him, but he answered with all the cunning which would enable his questioner to understand that the way was clear. Already he was convinced that he was speaking with the commander of a German submarine, and at length came the message:
"All right. I am the U50. I am short of oil. Stay where you are, and I will come alongside you within an hour."