‘I hate them! I cannot tell you how I feel about them!’ Her eyes lit up with a compelling brightness. ‘They seem so terribly sure of themselves, so eager for destruction!’ She looked him full in the face. ‘You say you overheard the sailors talking? Do you understand German?’

  He put a fat finger to his lips. ‘Yes. But that is a secret between us. When the time comes, it may be useful. I already have the mere bones of a plan, but I cannot speak of it now.’ He gave her hand a slight squeeze and felt the old feeling of power seeping through his bones. He had no plan at all, but the hint of mystery seemed somehow in keeping with their confidences. ‘That officer I mentioned, do you see much of him?’

  ‘Yes. He is always calling in to see if I am behaving myself!’ She did not see the annoyance in Gelb’s eyes, she was thinking about Heuss standing in the middle of the cabin, his greatcoat over his pyjamas. In spite of her cool answers to his questions, she had known even then that his arrival had saved her from a complete breakdown. All the frustrations had welled into her throat so that she felt like choking, and Heuss at that moment had been the personification of torment. Each time he called on her she tried to humiliate him and maintain her dislike, but his grave, even gentle, approach had made her regret her attitude the moment he had departed. She no longer saw him merely as a gaoler, a face behind a uniform, but as a man. And the fact that she trusted him frightened her more than her previous hatred. He would listen to her tirades and then talk about the sea and the places where he had been. He never mentioned the war, and always departed after a short while. A strange, lonely man. He had a keen wit, but his quick intermittent humour always seemed directed at himself, so that her anger seemed to lack purpose and weight.

  Each time he visited her she noticed how he always made a point of reporting that her husband was well and was asking after her. She had wanted to believe him, but now she knew he had lied because he had seen the cause of her wretchedness, and she also knew that she would never turn again to Arthur for help.

  The door banged open and two armed seamen stepped over the coaming. They gestured for her to accompany them, and one, a mere boy, blushed as she looked at his loaded Mauser. The other seaman, gaunt like a scarecrow, stared at her with eyes like stones. She shivered and pulled her coat closer. The man looked lost and slightly crazy.

  She halted by the door, watching her husband. He smiled vaguely and thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘I’ll ask about cigarettes, Arthur. Perhaps I can get some sent to you.’

  ‘See you next visitors’ day, Caryl. You can bring me my briefcase next time. I’ve still got to polish up my report, you know!’ A dismissal—amused, final.

  She walked quickly down the long high passageway, conscious of the two seamen who followed her. A large rat scurried from behind a packing case almost at her feet, and involuntarily she jumped backwards into the arms of the scarecrow. Instead of releasing her he held her in a grip of steel, and she saw the look of alarm on the face of the younger seaman.

  Alder peered closely into her eyes, his mouth loose and wet. He spoke excitedly, and as she struggled held her all the tighter, and raised his voice to drown her protests. He was trying to explain that he, too, knew what it was like to be in an open boat in the company of dead men. Perhaps she could help him.

  Caryl Brett stared at the red-rimmed eyes and saw the spittle running from the man’s frantic mouth. Her fur coat slipped from her shoulder, and she saw the other seaman stare with horrified eyes at the bare skin beneath.

  Pieck seized Alder’s arm, his voice frightened. ‘Leave her alone, you fool! She doesn’t understand you, she thinks you want to rape her! For God’s sake leave her alone!’

  The girl stopped struggling, and Alder drew slowly away, his eyes on the small door leading to the forward magazine. Lieutenant Kohler, a bundle of ammunition lists in his hand, was standing in the opening, his eyes blazing with insane rage.

  ‘Stand to attention, you swine! Leave that woman alone!’ In two strides he was in front of Alder, and in a savage thrust drove his fist into the man’s mouth. Alder whimpered and closed his eyes as the officer struck him again. ‘How dare you disgrace the Imperial Navy by degrading yourself in front of the enemy!’ Kohler was almost beside himself with rage. He struck the half-dazed man first on one side of the face and then the other, so that his mouth and chin were streaming with blood. ‘I have had my eye on you! Well, I shall see that we do not have to put up with your sort any longer!’ He broke off, panting, as Pieck’s terrified face appeared over Alder’s shoulder.

  ‘Permission to speak, Lieutenant! I can explain what happened!’

  Kohler dropped his raised fist, gasping with the exertion of his blows. ‘Shut your mouth! How dare you interrupt me!’

  There was the sound of feet in the passageway, and Petty Officer Brandt with a sentry appeared in the already crowded space.

  ‘Sir?’ Brandt stood stiffly to attention but kept his eyes on the girl. He drew in his breath sharply as he caught sight of her bared shoulder before she tugged the coat back into place. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘Wrong? I should damn’ well think there is!’ Kohler pointed accusingly at Alder. For a moment he seemed confused, and then tossed his head angrily. ‘Wait in the ammunition hoist with this man.’ He indicated the wretched and bleeding man, who still stood rigidly at attention, a habit he had learned at the detention barracks when the guards had taunted him and jeered at his mental sickness. ‘I wish to get a clear picture of what caused all this. Sentry! Take this woman to her quarters.’ He was getting excited again. This really was a most fortunate happening. He had been congratulating himself on the success of his work with the torpedo when he had heard the commotion in the passage, but he had never dreamed that such an opportunity to regain his hold on Pieck would be so easy to come by. It was amazing. He had almost ordered Brandt to put that fool Alder in the cells. It might have been a case for a firing squad. That would have been interesting, but this new possibility was devastating in its simplicity.

  The passageway was suddenly deserted and quiet, and he was conscious of the tension within him, and of the boy’s sharp breathing. He frowned. ‘Well, Pieck, this is very serious for Alder. What have you to add to the evidence?’ He waited like a hawk, watching the torn emotions on his face and the wide, helpless expression he had known of old.

  ‘Sir, it was an accident. Alder is a good man. He’s a bit simple. He was only trying to sympathise with her, to tell her he, too, had been a survivor!’

  ‘And when she refused to listen he tried to rape her, eh?’ His pale eyes were brilliant with concentration. He was almost afraid to speak in case Pieck detected the excitement within him.

  ‘No, sir! It was all a mistake!’

  ‘And he made it! By God, I’ll have him shot! If this sort of behaviour got around the ship we’d have a mutiny on our hands! Discipline! That’s what these scum need!’

  Pieck stared up at him miserably. He was a simple boy, but not too simple to see through Kohler’s cat-and-mouse tactics. He thought, too, of Alder, and of their time together in the detention barracks, and of the man’s mental self-destruction in the search for his memory. This way or that, what did it matter? Kohler would have won in the end. This way, at least, he might find some way out. Some small reprieve for all of them. He looked Kohler full in the face, his chin lifted. ‘Please, sir, give him a chance. I’ll do anything’—his voice shook—‘anything you ask of me.’ He dropped his eyes and felt drained of life.

  Kohler licked his lips. ‘Splendid! I think you are coming to your senses!’ He placed his hand under Pieck’s chin and tilted his head towards him. ‘After all, there’s no need to bear old grudges, is there? Er, I must make you understand that. Things will be different from now on, eh?’ He dropped his hand and called out sharply. ‘All right, Brandt, you can release that idiot! Give him some extra work to keep him occupied, and watch him. But there will be no charge!’

  The petty officer looked crestfallen. ‘No charge, sir? But I thought you said . . .’

  Kohler flushed. ‘Damn and blast your stupid eyes, man! Do I have to do and say everything twice in this ship! Take that man aft and attend to your duty!’

  ‘Sir!’ The heels clashed together, and Brandt darted a look of hatred at Pieck, then, with Alder dragging his feet behind him, clattered up the steel ladder from the hold.

  Kohler nodded. ‘See? Nothing to it. So long as you behave yourself all will be well with your comrade. I think we understand each other, eh? Carry on to your duty then.’ He waited until Pieck had reached the foot of the ladder. ‘When you finish your watch you may visit me in my cabin. We can have a little talk.’ He was still smiling as Pieck disappeared through the hatch. At last he was getting the luck and recognition he had earned. Humming cheerfully, Kohler began to check the ammunition lists.

  * * * * *

  Heuss pushed open the wheelhouse door and then closed it behind him. He stared round the quiet orderly place with open dislike. It was always there waiting for him, it never slept. The nerve centre of a pirate. Every time that he was on watch and the telephone buzzed, or a lookout reported some vague object, his mouth went dry. He always felt sick and afraid to give the necessary orders which might commit the ship and himself to another cold, dispassionate engagement. It was all so inhuman, so unreal. He shook his head angrily and peered round the dimly lit wheelhouse. Damrosch stood at the rear of the helmsman, his hands deep in his pockets, his eyes quietly watchful. He tried to smile at Heuss, and then returned to his own thoughts and concentration. The helmsman leaned gently against the wheel, his face bright in the light from the compass bowl, impassive, like a carving on a cathedral. The telegraphs-man, boatswain’s mates, signalman and captain’s messenger all stood like dumb statues, without faces or personalities. On the far bridge-wing, dimly visible through the spray-dappled glass, he could see Dehler gesticulating and shouting at a lookout. A deaf-and-dumb show. All at once Heuss wanted to get away from the place and find sanctuary in his cabin. He might even make an excuse to visit the girl in her quarters. He strode to the dark door of the Captain’s sea cabin. It was ringed with light, and he sighed deeply as he rapped lightly with his knuckles. Did the man never sleep? How could he go on without rest, without ever taking his hand from the helm?

  Von Steiger was sitting at his table, writing in a small, leather-bound book. He looked up as Heuss entered, the electric light making his dark hair shine above his tanned face.

  ‘Ah, Heuss. I have been expecting you. Have you found out anything?’

  He laid his papers down on the table and shrugged. ‘Not a lot, Captain. One real piece of news is that a British cruiser is, or was, lying at Bridgetown, H.M.S. Waltham, taking on coal and stores. She is not listed as one of the local squadrons, so I suppose we might expect her to appear anywhere. To get back to the Rockleaze, she was two days late, it seems. We might have miseed her otherwise.’

  ‘What was the name of her captain?’

  ‘Captain Louch. An old man apparently. His men speak very well of him. His first mate told me that the captain had an idea we were a raider. But he wouldn’t say any more about it.’

  Von Steiger lit a cheroot and watched the smoke sucked into a ventilator. ‘Interesting, Heuss. A brave man, that master. But not foolish enough to make an empty gesture, I think. The wireless signals—I have been thinking about them. The signals department have informed me that as far as they can estimate the signals were short and repetitive. No mention of position at all.’ He smiled gravely. ‘That surprises you, I see. It may be, of course, that he was just trying to frighten us. Or,’ he stabbed the air with the cheroot, ‘it may be that he knew that there was another ship close by. A ship that would be able to estimate his position without further information by wireless. If that is the case, it is quite, possible that the other ship will have passed on that information to the nearest British squadron.’

  Heuss eyed him bleakly. ‘That was more or less what you anticipated, sir.’

  ‘More or less. Now, how are your other prisoners? Is the girl calmer now?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ He was giving nothing away. ‘She is getting used to us now.’

  ‘You obviously have not heard that she was in a little incident this evening.’ He watched the alarm in Heuss’s eyes. ‘Apparently she was frightened by one of the sentries. It is all settled now though. A little misunderstanding.’

  Heuss stared at him. How did he do it? How did he know what went on everywhere in the ship without leaving the bridge?

  Von Steiger laughed quietly. ‘I hear lots of things unofficially, Heuss. Don’t look so surprised!’

  ‘I’m only sorry I was not informed myself. I had better speak to the guard commander about it.’

  ‘Let it go. The girl is affecting all our men, one way or another. They pause by her door and make an excuse to wait outside. They peer at her if she shows herself, and two seamen fought each other yesterday because one had made an insulting remark about her. She has become a symbol, Heuss.’ His voice hardened. ‘She could be a dangerous symbol. Still, we may be able to clear them all out soon.’

  Heuss shifted uncomfortably, feeling the gold eyes direct on his face. ‘I see, sir. It will be something for the British seamen to write home to their wives about, I suppose.’

  Von Steiger regarded him distantly. ‘It’s coal I have to worry about. Things have changed so much in a year or two. No supply ships, nothing. I have one dump in mind where we can replenish, but I should like to catch a nice collier first. I think we will soon.’ He tapped his forehead vaguely. ‘I feel it. Strange, isn’t it?’ He waved the cheroot. ‘You can go below, Heuss, I will not detain you any more.’

  Heuss closed the door behind him and felt his anger drain away. I complain about my Middle Watch, he thought, and he is on watch all the time.

  Von Steiger lifted a silver flask from his waste-paper basket and poured himself a stiff measure of schnapps. He grimaced. Filthy stuff. If we can catch a nice collier we might even find a few bottles of Scotch aboard. He tried to cheer himself up with the idea, but it did not seem to matter enough. He thought of Heuss and frowned. What was he up to? I must try to leave this bridge and have a look round. The girl, for instance. She had turned away from him, and yet nearly everyone else in the ship had been near enough to her to touch her. She and he were separated by something more than circumstances. Like the day when she looked up at him from the boatdeck. What other woman would dare to treat him like that? A prisoner, a woman already mourned as lost by the outside world, he could do anything he liked with her. He sighed. No wonder Heuss and some of the others were getting unrealistic about her presence.

  A voice-pipe squeaked. ‘Officer-of-the-watch speaking, sir. Permission to pipe for guns’ crews to exercise action?’ Dehler never missed an opportunity to keep the men on their toes.

  Von Steiger gave his consent and snapped down the pipe-cover. It just was not possible on this trip to get away from routine and duty. He refilled his glass and continued to write his log.

  8

  LIEUTENANT KOHLER STOOD on the weather wing of the bridge, forcing himself to breathe deeply in spite of the bitterly cold air. From his lofty perch he could see the seamen working about the raider’s decks, putting finishing touches to her new disguise. She had been renamed Jannsens of Amsterdam, and a false funnel had been hoisted as a twin to the genuine one. In addition the poop had been lengthened by strips of painted canvas, to give the ship the appearance of a small Dutch cargo liner. A false deck-cargo completed the deception, and the raider now steamed slowly to the west, rolling heavily on her unwanted buoyance, while from the maindeck came the clang of shovels as the stokers moved still more of the coal to replenish the hungry bunkers.

  All around the slowly moving ship the sea was grey, cold and hostile, and for the one and a half days since the destruction of the Rockleaze nothing had been sighted. Nothing except one small sailing barque, hull down on the watery horizon, which had been allowed to go, unaware of its closeness to enemy guns.

  Von Steiger had remarked to the bridge at large: ‘After this war there will be few enough of those sailing ships left. I doubt if her cargo would cover the cost of one of our salvoes!’

  Kohler frowned as he recalled the incident. Surely any ship was better than nothing. He watched the sunset move unhurriedly towards the horizon, until only a long silver line marked the edge of the sea and laid a metallic path for the ship to follow.

  The ship felt sluggish beneath him, and for a moment his mouth curved petulantly. It seemed somehow out of keeping with the grandeur of his thoughts that the Vulkan, his God of Fire, should be wallowing along almost apologetically, and barely making steerageway. He had heard the Captain speaking earlier to that weird old engineer. Niklas. There had been a long and earnest conversation about consumption and the apparent shortage of fuel. Kohler thought the Captain to be far too tolerant with Niklas, who after all was only an engineer. He had stood beside the Captain, grubby, untidy and a bad example to the men on watch. He dismissed the question of coal from his mind. It was the Captain’s problem, not his. He had done more than his share towards the ship’s honours, and he was content to rest momentarily with his thoughts.

  It had been the most tremendous experience he had ever imagined, and he still could not quite put his memories in order. Perhaps he had had too much to drink before Pieck had come to his cabin, or perhaps he had been so incensed with excitement that a clear recollection was no longer possible. It did not matter, there would be plenty of occasions to come when he could plan each move in advance as coolly as he had organised his mines and torpedoes. He bared his teeth in a savage grin as he thought of the boy’s terrified face as he had locked the steel door behind him. It was incredible that it had all been so easy after all.