‘Naturally. It was not their responsibility. It will always be ours alone!’

  He stared at the neatly filed papers on the table before him. ‘What is your work, exactly?’

  ‘Education. I have important work with an Anglo-American commission which is studying all aspects of post-war planning.’

  Heuss raised an eyebrow ‘But we have not finished the war yet’

  Brett shrugged. ‘It will not be long.’

  Gelb sat heavily on a bunk, his stomach rumbling for the food which he knew would follow the interrogation. It was lucky, he thought that the other officer who had struck him was not here after all. Perhaps he was being held in reserve. He leaned forward. ‘Mr. Brett is an authority on war. He does not believe in fighting. His conscience would not permit such foolhardiness!’

  Heuss looked at the tall figure with new interest. ‘So? That interests me. Yet you hold a good job? I would have thought that your work could have been given to a wounded veteran, perhaps.’

  Brett’s mouth curled. He was on familiar ground. So often he had crushed Caryl’s arguments. ‘Is that what happens in your country?’

  Heuss leafed quickly through the papers. ‘No. In my country we take the view that if it is worth living in, it is worth fighting for. Under similar circumstances in Germany you would be shot!’ He smiled thinly. ‘It is cheaper all round, you see!’

  Gelb licked his thick lips. ‘I have no such high notions, Lieutenant. I am a buyer of hides for leather. You might say that I am not a fighting man either. But by my efforts I have provided boots and equipment for half the soldiers in the British Army!’

  ‘At a small recompense to yourself, no doubt?’

  Brett snapped his fingers. ‘Never mind all this! What will you do with those papers?’

  ‘My Captain will no doubt wish to see them. He is well read. He will be interested to see if it is worth our prolonging the war when the Allies have such spectacular plans for after its completion!’ To himself he added: We are all deluding ourselves. We can only think of that slaughter in the boats, yet none dares to betray his code.

  ‘Where are the seamen you rescued?’ Brett asked indifferently.

  ‘In their own quarters. We have several prisoners already, but we separate officers from ratings, civilians from roughnecks!’ He smiled wearily.

  ‘And my wife?’

  ‘She is well looked after. She has had a terrible experience.’

  ‘Will she be molested?’

  Heuss eyed him without expression. ‘We are not all animals, Herr Brett!

  ‘You will now be fed. I will question you again if necessary. You will be allowed on deck for certain periods, and you will at all times obey orders without hesitation.’

  Brett yawned. ‘Otherwise we will be shot. I suppose?’

  Heuss signalled for the door to be opened. ‘Yes, Herr Brett, I suppose so, too!’

  * * * * *

  Most of the wardroom air vents had been shut against the cold, and a thick blue cloud of tobacco smoke hung motionless across the white deckhead. The Vulkan’s officers stood in a semicircle round the glowing stove, half watching the door, and speaking in unusually subdued tones. Outside, the night was quiet and the thud of the engine could be heard, as well as the faint swish of water alongside the hull. The wind had not returned after the fog had departed, and only a thin drizzle and the bitter cold remained to plague those on watch around the ship.

  Heuss rubbed his hands against his side, his eyes dark and thoughtful. What had the Captain called a conference for? It was unlike him to leave the bridge merely to speak to his officers. He had already done it once today to greet the survivors from the torpedoed freighter. It was strange how affected von Steiger had been by the sight of the U-boat machine-gunning the lifeboats. Heuss had been on watch when the fog had lifted, and the drama had been played out before them.

  Von Steiger had almost screamed down the engine-room voice-pipe: ‘Full speed, damn you! Give me emergency full speed!’ Then he had run to the wing of the bridge, his powerful glasses trained on the distant scene. Once, when Heuss had asked permission to signal the U-boat, the Captain had said bitterly: ‘It’s too late, Heuss! God damn that captain, I should have fired on him!’

  Then the girl had been brought aboard. Von Steiger had left the bridge, even as the great screw began to turn once more. It was curious how like von Steiger’s dead wife this girl was. Even covered in filth and in rags, he could see a certain similarity. He smiled ruefully. Or was his imagination working on him as well? It had been so long now since he had even seen anyone so defiant, yet so helpless, that his mind was probably playing tricks.

  Kohler lit a cigarette exultantly. ‘The sea is empty of the Royal Navy! It is better than I had dared to hope!’

  Dehler, who had been brought off watch for the conference, scowled. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

  ‘Well, it means that the war is in our favour at sea as well as on land! When our great offensive comes this spring we will finally break them in two!’

  Dehler grunted with impatience. ‘We shall still find a fight, sooner or later.’ He was only half listening to the others. He was thinking about the raider’s lack of targets. Apart from the Cardiff Maid they had done little so far. It was unlikely that the British had even guessed that a raider was abroad. He frowned. If I were to be captain, what course would I choose? If I carried on like this I might sink a few more ships and harm their supply lines. But if I made sure the enemy knew a raider was abroad, surely the forces they would have to deploy to hunt for it would be a greater handicap to them? They would probably cancel convoy sailings in some cases, too, until the seas had been cleared. Which course would be open to the Captain’s own choice? he wondered. Probably the latter, and then dash back through the blockade before the squeeze got too dangerous.

  Karl Ebert, the gunner officer, smoked in silence. Eventually he said: ‘I can’t get used to having a woman on board. Right on the other side of that bulkhead she’s probably combing her hair, or thinking about her husband.’

  Wildermuth chuckled. ‘I would not mind joining her, anyway!’

  ‘She’s too proud for the likes of you!’ Ebert grinned with satisfaction. ‘She’s a little angel! An angel with a bite, I shouldn’t wonder!’

  Kohler eyed him with disgust. How could they talk like that about an enemy? He sighed and remembered his experience in the boat that morning. With his Luger he had leaned right over the gunwale to shoot one man clean between the eyes. He had not been badly wounded, but enough surely to warrant death by his hand. His men had been fascinated by him, he could tell from their glassy stares that they were amazed at his display of eagerness to kill. He had been unable to control it. He had felt almost a sexual urge compelling him to watch those frightened eyes before he squeezed the trigger. All this was like an anticlimax. In a moment I shall go to my cabin and play some Wagner on the gramophone. Then I will drink some schnapps in private and think about it all again. If only he could relieve his tensions on somebody, drive home his satisfaction and excitement. He thought of Pieck. It would be risky. But if he could win him back, things would be complete for him once more. He had been tried, and had proved himself true and unbeatable. He had killed for the Fatherland, and for himself. He knew now he could do it again. But Pieck might be difficult. He might make a complaint to the Captain about him. He shook his head. Unlikely. Von Steiger had already showed that he did not wish to interfere with his officers’ methods. He licked his lips. Pieck was better than all the others. Simple and trusting. Yes, it must be tried. And if anything goes wrong the boy will have to be disposed of. He began to smile, and from the other side of the fire Heuss watched him apprehensively. Kohler looked slightly mad, he thought.

  The door was flung open by a sentry and von Steiger entered the wardroom. He indicated that he wished the officers to relax, and then laid his cap on the polished table.

  He opened his large coloured chart and laid it where they could all see it. They closed in around the table, their differences momentarily forgotten. The chart was marked with the raider’s long rambling course, and pockmarked with tiny pencilled figures and notes.

  Von Steiger gave them a few moments. ‘Gentlemen, I have to tell you that I am dissatisfied with our efforts so far.’ He pointed at the red trade-arteries which criss-crossed the North Atlantic and converged on the British Isles. ‘The new convoy system has made our task here almost impossible, and to prolong our stay in this area will reduce us to the role of a scavenger!’ He listened to the murmur which ran around the table. ‘We are using up coal and food, and achieving little. And time is against us. Every ship which reaches England is crammed to the seams with war material, which within a week of being landed is on its way to the Western Front to await the spring offensive.’ He slapped his hand hard on the chart. ‘If we go farther south we have a better chance of causing confusion and disruption of those supplies nearer their source! Large enemy concentrations of warships will have to be deployed. It is a vast ocean, gentlemen, and will need a lot of warships! We will, in effect, be trailing our coats to the enemy. It is the only way!’ He looked up, his eyes searching.

  He glanced at Heuss’s set face and waited. Of all the officers around him, Heuss was the only one who had the breadth of imagination required to understand what Jay ahead. Yet he was blinded by his own conscience. It was as if he still tried to dissociate himself with everything which had passed, and which lay ahead.

  It was Dehler who reacted first. ‘But, Captain, what of the wireless message received today? Were you not ordered to remain in this area of operations for the present?’ His face was blank, but his eyes seemed to throw a challenge.

  Heuss watched them both. He, too, had seen the wireless message. Surely even von Steiger would not just ignore it.

  Von Steiger folded the chart. ‘The High Command are at Kiel. They are not only misinformed, but misguided!’ That was all, but the bitterness in his voice told Heuss a great deal.

  Von Steiger must have known that Naval Intelligence had been informed about the hospital ship’s course under International Law. They must have known about it when he ordered the Vulkan to lay her minefield. It was as if they had wanted to brand von Steiger as a pirate, and so turn every enemy ship to search for him. Heuss’s eyes followed von Steiger to the door, and for the first time he felt a rising admiration for the man, and began to understand the extent of his loneliness.

  7

  ‘SHIP BEARING GREEN two-oh!’

  Lieutenant Heuss stared for a full three seconds at the telephone in his hand, as if unable to grasp what the excited masthead lookout had reported. He had known that another encounter was inevitable, and yet in his heart he had cherished a strange kind of hope.

  ‘Call the Captain! Sound off Action Stations!’ He still stood with the hand-set in his fist, his eyes staring unwinkingly at the silver-grey horizon, over which in a few minutes the stranger would take shape. Around him the ship awoke from its four days of uneasy waiting. Four days since they had found the lifeboats. For Heuss it had meant even more than that. He had been able to lose himself almost completely in the task of looking after the prisoners, or so he told himself, and he had been careful not to visit the girl any more than the other captives in the hold.

  At first he had been saddened by the cold contempt which Caryl Brett had shown him, but the agony of shock and despair which he had seen behind her angry defence had acted as a challenge and given him a sense of purpose.

  On the first morning after the sinking of the Iolanthe Reeder, the Captain’s steward, had reported that the girl was having hysterics, or something much worse. Grimly Heuss hurried after him to the Captain’s quarters, wondering what von Steiger would do if the girl had gone mad. It was a strong possibility after what she had endured.

  He shouldered his way through the group of idlers who waited curiously in the passageway, and pushed open the door. To Reeder he said shortly, ‘Get rid of those men, and see that I’m not disturbed.’ He regretted his words the moment that the door had closed behind him. Apart from the throb of the engines there was a complete silence, almost as if the cabin was holding its breath. The large day cabin was empty, and through the gently swinging curtains, which partitioned off the sleeping quarters from the rest of the space, he could see that the disordered bunk was empty. He cleared his throat and took a pace forward. Perhaps that fool Reeder had imagined it all. He had said that the girl had been screaming, and writhing about in the bed like a madwoman.

  He adjusted his mind to the careful English sentences. ‘Fräulein? Where are you?’ He could not address her as the wife of the prisoner, Brett. Her very isolation from him, and the strange way she had been brought from the sea, had already made her quite different in his eyes. There was a slight movement from the bathroom, and then silence. He licked his dry lips, and had a momentary vision of the girl trying to commit suicide behind the locked door. Something like panic and unreasoning alarm swept over him.

  ‘Fräulein! Show yourself at once, please! It is I, Lieutenant Heuss!’

  The small door opened, and she stood suddenly framed in the watery sunlight. She was wearing an oversize dressing-gown, which covered her like a shroud, and stood motionless but for one hand, which plucked slowly at the hair that hung down over each shoulder. Her pale face was quite composed, and but for her eyes, which looked rather wild, she seemed completely in control of herself. Heuss caught sight of himself in the mirror beyond her, and grimaced. Unshaven, his hair flattened over his forehead, and his greatcoat buttoned hastily over his pyjamas, he looked more in need of care than she did.

  ‘What do you want, Lieutenant? Why have you come bursting in like this?’ Her mouth moved slightly, as if she was having difficulty in breathing, and for a brief instant a spasm of nausea showed on her face.

  ‘I was told that you were unwell, fräulein.’ To himself he sounded ridiculously formal, like Kohler, he thought. ‘I am glad to see you are recovered.’ He tried to smile, but his features felt frozen. ‘After all, I am responsible for you. My Captain would be angry if he thought I was not doing my duty!’

  ‘I see.’ The large green eyes moved slowly across his face, as if searching for something. ‘I have just been sick,’ she added simply.

  ‘I am not surprised. You have been under a great strain.’

  ‘You speak as if you are detached from all this, Lieutenant. That surprises me a little. You even sound a little concerned. That also is a surprise!’

  Heuss saw the girl’s face harden, and realised that the hatred which was again coming to the surface was giving her strength. He stood staring at her, undecided what to do.

  ‘I awoke rather suddenly,’ she continued in a flat voice, ‘and all at once I was reliving that horror which I saw in the lifeboat. You are a fighting man, so you could not possibly understand. In addition, being a German officer, I expect you would try to kill such sensitive feelings even if they arose. Just as your brave men killed those helpless sailors!’

  The tone of her voice had become sharper, and through the folds of the dressing-gown he could see her breasts rising and falling in mounting agitation, as if she was only half in control of her emotions. He wanted to seize her, to pinion her arms and pull her against his body. To hide her lovely face with its steady, accusing eyes. To tell her that he did understand, and that it was she who was being without pity. Instead of these things he merely dropped his eyes and said evenly: ‘I have seen such sights, fräulein. And believe me, I too know what fear and despair can do. So I realise well enough what you have suffered. I hope that you will try to have hope and understanding. We cannot alter life. We can endure it, or we go under.’

  There was a nervous tap at the door, and Reeder’s head appeared round its edge. ‘Can I come in, Lieutenant? I have brought coffee.’ His eyes moved across to the girl, and he added slowly: ‘She is better I see! You are better than a doctor, Lieutenant!’

  Heuss moved towards the door, feeling suddenly tired and dirty. For a moment longer he stood between the neat, white-jacketed steward and the tragic-faced girl in the far doorway, aware for the first time in many months that he was without bitterness. It was as if she had given him some purpose in life.

  ‘Incidentally, Lieutenant,’ her voice soft, yet cutting into his thoughts like a knife, ‘I am Mrs. Brett. I shall assume that your familiarity is due to a lack of understanding of my language!’

  She stepped back into the bathroom and slammed the door. Reeder shrugged and clicked his tongue sympathetically. He had not understood a word, but from the comical expression of anger and embarrassment on the officer’s face he guessed a good deal. He laid the silver coffee-pot on the table and grinned.

  ‘Never mind, Lieutenant! You saved the day, and the Captain’s best coffee-pot will do the rest! It will be a good thing when the Captain gets rid of her and puts her aboard some neutral ship. I do not like women at times like these!’

  ‘Oh shut your blasted mouth!’ As he had slammed the door behind him, Heuss had heard Reeder laughing. That, too, was strange, as he had never even seen the man smile before.

  Now, as the alarm bells jangled throughout the ship, and the wooden decks vibrated beneath the thunder of running feet, Heuss tried to picture what Caryl Brett was doing. During any emergency she was to be put with the other prisoners under guard, and he wondered what her fatuous husband would have to say to her.

  The door behind him clicked open, and he turned to salute as von Steiger came briskly into the wheelhouse. ‘Ship on the starboard bow, sir! Closing on us on an almost parallel course.’

  Von Steiger nodded and glanced at the chart. ‘Bring her round half a point. Have the starboard battery cleared away, and tell Lieutenant Elbert to shoot well when required. The afternoon light goes rather rapidly, and I don’t want to start searching for a crippled ship in the dark.’