‘You can never be sure, Heuss.’ His tone was matter-of-fact. ‘And to know that such passions are abroad in this ship is almost unnerving!’

  ‘In war many things seem justified, Captain.’

  ‘It is that sort of reasoning which can cause a mutiny, Heuss!’ The other captain had returned, and Heuss saw the life ripple through von Steiger’s shoulders as if he was reawakening. ‘And, Heuss, never drink too much at one time! It does not help minimise one’s worries. It merely distorts them!’

  Heuss saluted gravely, and climbed wearily down the ladder once more. Pausing again by the bunker, he watched the labouring seamen with new eyes. Set, hard faces grimed with dirt and coal-dust. It might be one of them. He shivered, and tried to imagine Brandt falling into the ship’s creaming wake, or being sucked down into the churning propeller. He walked slowly along the deck, his head sunk deeply into his collar. The ship would seem different after this, he thought.

  * * * * *

  Caryl Brett paused by the tall funnel and looked upwards at the thin streamer of smoke as it peeled away into the wind. She could feel the warmth from the casing, and sensed the great power which coursed up through the hungry engine-room fans. It was cold and wet, and she could feel the rain soaking through the headscarf which she had tied across her hair. Yet she was unwilling to go below until ordered, unready to face the quiet loneliness of the cabin.

  She thought of her husband, and tried to remember exactly how he had looked when she had last seen him. Repeatedly she had endeavoured to see him as he had once been in England, confident, determined, yet a little defenceless. Instead, the picture of him swimming away to safety and the lifeboat, while she stood alone on the sinking ship, came foremost in her thoughts.

  A shoe squeaked on the wet planks behind her, and Gelb moved to the rail at her side. She stiffened, waiting for his casual touch, the insistent kindness of his tone. A strange, deep man. He had saved her from cracking completely in that slaughter of the lifeboats, she knew, and yet she was unable to feel at ease in his presence.

  Gelb stood in silence, as if searching for thoughts also. At length he said softly, ‘I hear that they have asked you to work in the sick quarters?’

  She turned towards him, her eyes wide. But his heavy profile looked quite unruffled at her surprise. ‘How did you know? They only asked me an hour ago!’

  He shrugged, almost apologetically. ‘I hear a lot, my dear. It comes from being a good listener.’

  ‘Yes, they did ask me. Their complete indifference to my own feelings amazes me!’

  ‘I think you should accept their offer.’ His voice was still casual, yet she could detect a slight edge to his words. ‘After all, there are several British seamen to be looked after. You might be able to help them, eh?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ Her mind wandered off again to the officer, Heuss. He had tried to explain the idea to her almost as Gelb was doing. He had also suggested that it would pass the time until they could put her safely aboard another ship. So easy, so helpful. They all spoke as if nothing had happened. She turned back to Gelb. ‘What else have you discovered?’

  ‘A man was lost overboard last night. A petty officer.’ He smiled at some inner secret. ‘I believe there is more to it. You might be able to find something out, too!’

  A bell chimed from the forward deck, and somewhere below a bosun’s pipe twittered urgently.

  Gelb moved closer, so that she could feel his coat brushing her leg. ‘There is something else.’ He dropped his voice so that she could hardly understand him. ‘I should like you to make every effort to find out where we are meeting the collier again.’

  She tried to pierce his impassive expression. ‘Why? What does it matter any more?’

  ‘I did not say this in front of the Germans, but I believe that there is a man aboard the collier that could help you. Your poor husband knew him, and I believe he alone knows who your husband was frightened of.’ He let the words sink in. ‘I have been talking to the collier’s captain, and he thinks that the Germans will get rid of his ship after they next meet it. They will get all the coal they want, and then maybe scuttle the ship.’

  ‘And the other prisoners on board the collier?’

  ‘I expect they will put them ashore somewhere. We may not see them again after that.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘I feel that we would be doing something for your poor husband’s memory if we made the effort to discover his persecutor. A small thing, but it would help. I am sure that we would never forgive ourselves if we allowed his death to pass unmourned and with no effort to find the cause of his unnecessary end.’ He waited, hardly daring to breathe.

  ‘What can we do? You have seen what these Germans are like. We are so helpless in their hands!’

  ‘Not quite helpless! You try and discover the rendezvous, and I will try to contact that other prisoner, whoever he is. It will be something.’ He hurried on, aware of the girl’s quick breathing at his side. ‘The captain of the collier will be able to recognise the rendezvous if you give him a clue. Any little thing might help, an island perhaps, or even some sheltered bay, who knows? But we must try!’

  She nodded slowly. ‘Very well. I shall tell the officer that I am willing to help with the sick. It is wrong, anyway, to keep thinking of myself when there are others worse off.’

  His big hand closed across hers, and she felt something like relief. He has been wanting to do that since he came up here, she thought, I can almost feel the eagerness in his fingers. She removed her hand and brushed some hair from her eyes. She must try to like him. After all, he was doing his best to help her, whatever his motives.

  A petty officer appeared at the top of the ladder and beckoned to Gelb impatiently.

  ‘I must go below now. The dogs are barking again!’ He walked slowly after his guard and left her alone once more with her thoughts.

  She watched the surging water, and wondered where the ship had reached on its endless journey.

  When I get back to England, what shall I do? Who will be interested in me now? Arthur would be missed by his friends, but his very life had excluded her in more than just the most important way, it had kept her quite apart from life itself. The completeness of her loneliness moved a step closer.

  She was suddenly aware that someone was watching her, and she looked up towards the bridge. Von Steiger stared down at her, his features hidden by distance and by the heavy drizzle. She expected him to stay motionless, part of the ship, or to turn away, but instead he lifted his hand in a slow salute. She turned away and began to walk quickly along the boatdeck. She felt angry with herself, and yet strangely satisfied with the uncertain power she held over all these men. Gelb, who disguised his feelings for her with the sound of noble purpose. Heuss, who openly admired her, and even von Steiger seemed unsure of himself because of her. It was as if her presence disturbed the pattern of things, and had become a reminder and a link with another life, like a flaw in a piece of armour. She looked back briefly at the bridge, but he had gone. That is why he wants me to leave this ship. Because of himself, he is afraid of me.

  She was almost running when she reached the cabin, and breathlessly she slammed the door behind her.

  Her discovery had unnerved her, and she wanted time to think about it. It did not seem possible that such an impersonal, efficient machine as this ship of destruction could be weakened by human emotion, and yet, if it was, she knew that she would have to be doubly careful in future.

  She spoke aloud to the cabin. ‘I should like to bring him down from his perch. This arrogant, so-confident German!’ It would be an achievement which might in part make up for all the suffering which she had seen and endured. But her words echoed back, unreal and meaningless.

  * * * * *

  The Vulkan’s sick-bay was situated below the boatdeck, and like the officers’ wardroom ran the whole breadth of the ship, but, although spacious, gave the impression of overcrowding, with its neat ranks of white metal cots suspended from the deckhead and swinging easily in time with the ship’s movement.

  Caryl Brett paused momentarily in the entrance, her slim body silhouetted against the grey sky, and her cheeks glowing from the crisp morning air. Lieutenant Heuss closed the door behind her, and she was immediately aware of the complete isolation of this place from the ordered harshness of the rest of the ship. There was a mingled smell of disinfectant and soap, and the whole area gleamed with white paint, and neat racks of bottles and jars lined each bulkhead.

  A tall, studious man in his middle thirties, dressed in a long white coat, stood alertly in the middle of the floor, his straight face and severe mouth betrayed by a pair of twinkling blue eyes. He waited respectfully as Heuss indicated the cots, six of which were occupied, and when at last Heuss beckoned him over he bobbed his head in a slight bow, and eyed the girl with approval.

  ‘This is Steuer. He is our sick-bay attendant, but is more like a doctor than the real thing!’ Heuss waved his hand around the large cabin. ‘He is actually Swiss, and keeps this place as neat as a cuckoo clock!’

  Eduard Steuer chuckled. ‘Thank you, sir. You are very kind.’ To the girl he said: ‘It is very good of you to offer your help. Your presence here alone will do much for these poor fellows.’

  ‘Huh! If we are not careful we shall have all the ship’s company going sick now!’ Heuss grimaced.

  ‘Perhaps some of the officers, too?’ The Swiss raised his eyebrows. ‘But a good dose of my special tonic will clear them out again, in more senses than one!’

  Heuss glanced at the bulkhead clock and frowned. ‘I must go and attend to my work, Frau Brett.’ The reluctance was obvious in his voice. ‘But please do not hesitate to send for me if you need anything.’

  When the officer had left Steuer seemed to relax, and led the girl to a small alcove at the far end of the sick-bay.

  ‘There is a small cabin through there which you may use when I am doing the more unpleasant dressings, or at any other time. I have cleaned my patients up already, and they have been fed, so there is not much to do for the present.’

  ‘You speak excellent English.’

  ‘Most Swiss do.’ He grinned. ‘I would have made a good head waiter, eh?’

  She coloured. ‘I did not mean that. It is just that I have got used to the German sailors gesticulating or waving their hands when they want to tell me something.’

  ‘That is true. The Germans are a bit like the English. They think that everyone should speak their language!’

  She walked to the first cot, half afraid of what she might see. But the man was well hidden by his blanket, and from beneath a large head-bandage regarded her with dark, solemn eyes.

  Steuer watched her across the cot. ‘This is Brown. An excellent fellow. One of the seamen from the Cardiff Maid.’

  Her heart quickened. ‘How are you? Are you comfortable here?’

  He watched her with fascinated eyes. Then his lips moved. ‘Yes, thank you, miss. Just a bit stiff, like. I got a bit punctured by a couple of shell-splinters when the Jerries sunk the old ship.’

  ‘Who removed them?’ All the old anger was rising within her. The man looked so small and lost in the cot that she wanted to cry. ‘Was it you?’ She looked at Steuer, who shrugged.

  ‘It was me. I am the only doctor here. I was a medical student and did all but qualify, so I manage quite well!’

  ‘I think it’s horrible! To let men suffer because they have not proper doctors! I know you are good at your job, but it’s all so unfair!’

  He stared at her bright, rebuking eyes and spread his hands. ‘I know. But this war has taken every available doctor for more desperate things. On the battle fronts our men die like flies. They need all the help there.’

  ‘You say our men? How can you speak of the Germans as your own people?’

  ‘Serving with the Navy has made me look on them so, I suppose. I joined the German Navy because it was nearer than the British. I wanted to help the sick. I am little interested in national motives, and drum-beating!’

  She smiled feeling suddenly humble. ‘I am sorry. I did not understand. My late husband felt much as you do.’ Even as she said it she tried to imagine Arthur risking his life to help the sick and wounded. But the picture eluded her.

  She moved to the next cots, where two more bandaged sailors painfully played draughts on a small board, balanced between the swinging mattresses. They were also from the freighter Cardiff Maid, and had obtained their wounds in much the same way as the first man.

  One, a hard-bitten seaman from Bristol, reached up and took the girl’s small hand in his large calloused one and grinned at her. ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes, miss! Wait till I tell the old woman about this! She’ll never trust me away from ’ome again!’

  ‘Garn, she’ll be glad to see the back of yer!’ The other man winked, and rattled the draught-board with his bandaged fist. Then in a quieter voice he said: ‘’Ere, say a good word to the bloke in the next bunk, will yer, miss? ’E’s ’avin’ a bad time.’

  She moved softly to the still figure which occupied the cot the man had indicated, and stared down at the sunken white face which regarded her with fixed attention. It was young, yet already lined with suffering and experiences she could only guess at.

  She smiled. ‘And who are you? Are you from the Cardiff Maid, too?’

  The grey lips moved painfully. ‘Bitte? Ich—verstehe nicht, Fräulein.’

  She shrank back as if she had been bitten. ‘He’s a German!’

  The British seamen watched her over the edges of their cots. ‘’Course ’e is! Poor old Fritz is in a bad way!’

  Steuer leaned over and wiped the man’s mouth with a piece of cloth. Without changing his expression he said: ‘But you did not know that until he spoke? Please, if you cannot bring yourself to help me, I would rather be left alone!’

  She moved closer to the cot again. The man’s eyes were still fixed on her face; like a small, unwinking bird, she thought. At the sound of Steuer’s words she had felt once again like a child at school. She was only just beginning to understand the meaning of what Steuer had said earlier. This was not just a matter of right versus wrong. This was something else she had to learn. She had not really been shocked by the surprise of finding the man to be a German. It had been the casual acceptance of him by the British seamen. The very men that this wounded German and his comrades had tried to kill. It was crazy, and yet it was happening. She forced herself to smile and said softly, ‘What is wrong with him?’

  Steuer’s eyes were distant. ‘Two bullet wounds. He may live. I am not sure.’

  The wounded man watched her hand move down and adjust the blanket beneath his chin. A tiny tear moved from the corner of his eye. ‘Danke, fräulein. Danke sehr!’

  The Bristol man called encouragingly: ‘That’s right, you bloody square-head! Start getting off with my girl friend, will you! You wait, mate!’ They laughed.

  The other two cots were occupied by Germans also. Steuer guided her quickly by them, and shrugged apologetically. ‘Sores, I am afraid! Not very warlike, but just as painful. Too much salted meat and not enough fresh vegetables!’

  ‘What is in that other cabin?’ She pointed at a small door, half hidden by a curtain.

  ‘Isolation. We have one patient there, admitted yesterday.’ He frowned with sudden anger. ‘It made me sick to see him! It is a disgrace that he should be allowed in the Navy at all, let alone at sea!’ He saw her lips parted in a question and hurried on. ‘He was apparently blown up by a mine earlier in the war. He was found in a waterlogged lifeboat with eight dead companions. He was frozen to the tiller, and I am afraid he became unhinged by his terrible experiences.’ He became suddenly grave. ‘I should like you to see him. He often mentions you, if not by name, and I think he wishes to tell you not to be worried by your own terrible experiences.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘But he does not know me. How does he understand?’

  He shrugged. ‘It is hard to say. He can remember little at all of his own life, and yet hearing about your ordeal from his comrades seems to have made quite an impression on him. Don’t worry, he is harmless. I shall keep him here for a day or two, and then ask that he be put on light duties, if that is possible.’

  He opened the door, and the girl received her second shock. Alder, the man who sat dejectedly on the edge of the narrow bunk, was the man who had seized her. A flood of compassion swept over her. It was all clear to her now, and even without seeing the deadness in the man’s eyes, she could understand his misery and his wish to save her from a similar fate.

  Steuer spoke to the man quietly in German, his voice low yet compelling, and Alder nodded vaguely, muttering a reply in short staccato sentences.

  ‘That is queer. He wishes to see another seaman. He wants to tell him something.’

  They moved from the cell-like cabin and closed the door.

  ‘Why is that strange?’

  ‘Because he never speaks to anyone as a rule, and because the man he wishes to speak to is a mere boy, named Pieck.’ He scratched his chin distantly. ‘Very odd. Pieck was also in here yesterday. I thought he had got pneumonia or something like it, but there seemed nothing really wrong with him, after all I put his condition down to being too long on watch in a cold wind. It is all rather strange. That was the night Petty Officer Brandt was lost overboard.’ He saw her perplexed expression and smiled with mock despair. ‘Forgive me! I am so long on my own that I think too much! Forget it, it is nothing!’

  He watched her hair shine in the grey light from the scuttle, and pursed his lips with silent admiration. No wonder Lieutenant Heuss followed her around like a jealous suitor. She was beautiful indeed. Her very presence seemed to make the place brighter.