“Pooh! your nerves are unstrung,” I exclaimed. “All your bunkers haven’t caught fire!”
“You don’t understand!” angrily exclaimed Bernander, and, quickly finishing his tea, he seized his cap and went out.
I remained in the ward-room, settled myself down in an easy-chair, and, making myself comfortable, dozed. I heard indistinctly the watch being relieved at midnight. Some of the officers coming off duty came in to get some tea, and in low voices abused the infernal rawness of the night air. Others stretched themselves on sofas, sighing with relief at being so comfortable, and said: “We’ll sleep till four! it’s a holiday at home!”
I also went to sleep.
About 3 A.M. I awoke, and again went round the ship and up on deck. The scene was just the same as in the evening, but it was lighter. In the last quarter the moon had risen well up, and against the mist, dimly whitened by its silver rays, the ship’s funnels, masts, and rigging were sharply outlined. The breeze, freshening, blew cold, making me pull the cape of my coat more over my head.
Going on to the fore-bridge, I found the Admiral sleeping in a chair. The Commander, wearing soft slippers, was pacing rapidly but quietly up and down the bridge.
“What are you doing wandering about?” he asked me.
“O, just having a look round. Gone to sleep?” and I nodded towards the Admiral.
“Only just. I persuaded him to. Why shouldn’t he? We can take it that the night has passed all right. Up to the present we haven’t been discovered. They are still calling each other up, and now, even though they do find us, it’s late. It will be daybreak in a couple of hours. Even if their torpedo-boats are near us, they won’t be able to collect. Besides, how can they find us in weather like this? Look! you can’t even see the rear of the fleet! It’s 200,000 to 1 against any one running into us accidentally! But I don’t like the breeze. It’s freshening. Let’s hope it won’t break up the mist. If it does to-morrow will mean the end of the Suvoroff. But it’s suddenly coming on thicker,” he said eagerly. “Why, we have been going for twenty-four hours without being seen. If it is the same to-morrow, we’ll give them the slip! They are on the move, and keep calling each other up, and they haven’t yet come on us! They’ll have to wait for our second coming, out of Vladivostok! That’ll be a different tale. My! what a stew they must be in! What fun!” and putting his handkerchief in his mouth so as not to disturb the Admiral, he laughed so heartily, and seemed so free from care, that I envied him.
It should be stated that V. V. Ignatzius, in the first place, was one of those who was firmly convinced that the success of our voyage—this desperate adventure—depended solely on the extent of co-operation of Saint Nicolas “The Casual” and other heavenly powers, and, in the second place, bearing in mind the Japanese custom of concentrating their fire on the flag-ship, he believed that both he and his ship were doomed to destruction in the first decisive engagement. But, in spite of this, he never for a moment lost his invariably buoyant and cheery manner. He joked, chaffed, and eagerly threw himself into all the little details of daily life on board, while now (I really believe) he was, inwardly, much amused, picturing to himself the anger and disappointment of the Japanese in the event of our actually slipping past them.