A DRESS REHEARSAL
'Destroyer coming up astern,' some one on the boat-deck shouted up to
the bridge. A moment later we heard the familiar rush of a destroyer's
bow-wave, and the ringing of her telegraph as she checked. What the
devil do they want?'
'Where are you from, captain,' comes a voice from below us.
A sub-lieutenant is standing, megaphone in hand, on the bridge of the
pitching craft, whose funnels are only just on a level with our upper
deck. Close as she is to us, all the officers of the watch are scanning
us curiously through their glasses, while the men standing about the
deck stare at us open-eyed. As it is just as well that we should not be
recognised, I give my men a sign to go below, and myself, take my stand
at the rail, shaking my head, to convey to the sub-lieutenant that the
German language is not one of my accomplishments.
'Of course,' I can hear the little man below grumbling to himself,
'another of these idiots of captains who can speak no civilised
language!'
Nevertheless, he had another try, shouting at me through the megaphone
in a rasping tone, 'Where are you from? Can't you answer?'
Again I relentlessly shook my head, though it was all I could do not to
laugh outright when I recognised the speaker's voice. I had talked to
him in the streets of Kiel a couple of days before.
'Nothing doing! 'he growled angrily to himself, and said something to a
signalman, who thereupon ran aft, and returned accompanied by a
lieutenant, who had obviously been awakened from his siesta.
'Hallo, capt'n,' he shouted to me in fluent English,[3] 'where are you
coming from?'
'Danzig,' I answered shortly.
'Where are you bound for?'
'Christiania.'
In the ensuing pause I turned round and pretended to play with the dog,
by way of showing that I had no use for any further conversation with
the destroyer.
Meanwhile, I could hear the little sub saying crossly, 'I'll be hanged
if the fellow's on the square. I'll swear there's something fishy about
the business.'
I gave an impatient pull to my gay-coloured scarf, and nonchalantly
knocked out my foul little pipe on the rail, so that the ash flew right
into the eyes of the two speakers.
'Boor!' was the only further word that I heard, for a second afterwards
the destroyer backed astern, came up again on our port side, and steamed
along abreast of us for a while, all eyes on our deck, and on the
shining paint of the flags and names on our side.
Mathiesen, who now shoved his Norwegian-looking visage into the
foreground, must have allayed the suspicions of the wary pair, for a
sudden shout of 'All right, captain,' accompanied by a wave of the hand,
gave me to understand that I might proceed.
We had passed our first test safely. Some five hundred yards beyond the
barrier, a small Danish steamer flying a pilot-flag, came steaming
towards us. Here was our first real risk. I knew that no merchant ships
were allowed to pass through the Flintrinne and the Sound without taking
a pilot, and I had therefore already discussed with my officers what we
should do about it. If we took a pilot, it would be impossible to keep
up the pretence of being Norwegians for the whole time--amounting to
several hours--that he would be with us. On the other hand, if we
refused his services, it might be taken as certain that his suspicions
would be aroused; unless we had the luck to meet a particularly stupid
one.
After long deliberation I resolved, however, to back our luck and take
the latter course, and the luck held.
Long before he got near us, I made signs to indicate that I did not want
a pilot. Our friend, however, who no doubt meant to get a whacking fee
out of us, was very determined about it; and gave us to understand, with
a fine flow of language and gesticulation, that he was coming on board
whether or no. My chief engineer meanwhile saw to it that he should have
all he could do to keep up with us. To prevent his getting in the first
word, I took the megaphone and shouted to him in English, the 'universal
language' of seafaring men, 'I don't want a pilot, I know the water
here!' The only result was that the good man became more clamorous than
ever, and indicated the exact point on the side at which he wanted a
ladder let down for him.
To get rid of his importunity, Mathiesen had at last to shout to him in
Danish, 'We don't need you, we know the channel!' Then I sheered off a
bit to port, and our friend, at length recognising the futility of his
efforts, steamed away, cursing and shaking his fist. We saw him making
at full speed for the Danish lightship at the entrance to the
Flintrinne.
'By Jove, I expect that's torn it,' remarked my second, watching him
through his glasses. I had to acknowledge that he might be right. The
Danes were at that time notoriously anti-German, and the lightship had a
wireless installation. If the fellows wanted to set a trap for us, they
had only to report promptly to the English, 'Suspicious steamer passed,
proceeding out on a northerly course,' and we should be quite certain,
within five hours after passing Helsingborg, to make the acquaintance of
an English cruiser. To add to our disquietude, it was no long time
before we overhauled in the narrow channel a Danish schooner, which had
lain close astern of us at the quays of Lübeck, what time we were still
a German steamer!
However, we should need luck to get through in any case, and a risk
less or more was nothing to be downhearted about....
Copenhagen and Malmö, with their great pools of light, are now far
behind us. As we meet the fresh breeze at the entrance to the Kattegat,
a barquentine, under full sail, glides past us without a sound.
She carries no lights, and the ghostly outline of her bellying canvas is
dimly silhouetted against the moonless sky. In a few seconds she has
disappeared in the deep darkness.
But what is that? The lines of a torpedo-boat show up to port; the rays
of a pair of searchlights dart through the air and disappear again. Then
another flash sweeps upward, the cone growing larger and larger. Now he
has us; on the decks of the Aud it is light as day, our eyes are blinded
for the moment. A few seconds of this and the cone disappears again as
quickly as it came.
The Danish torpedo-boat that guards the entrance of the sound, to
protect Danish neutrality, has held us for a moment under the magnifying
glass, so to speak, to examine our distinctive markings--and has passed
us as a harmless neutral.
FOOTNOTE:
[3] English being much more often understood by Norwegian captains than
German. When the author quotes English, it is given exactly as he writes
it.