Above the horizon appear the masts, smokestacks, and hull of a ship.
Whether her conscience be troubled or at rest, she knows she cannot
escape our speed, and does not try to fly. At 5,000 yards her flag
informs us of her nationality. English or French, she may go ahead. If
she is neutral we show her the international signal:
"Stop immediately!"
And stop she must. If she looks like going on, a blank cannon shot
warns her not to play with fire. If she pretends not to understand the
invitation, a shell falls just ahead of her, and lets her know we are
not joking. If her screw continues to revolve a rap or two on the hull
lets her know that the affair is serious. They always stop in time.
The cruiser comes to, within gun range of the suspect. In an instant
one of our boats is lowered into the water, the crew seize the oars;
the officer on duty, armed with a sword and a revolver, and with a big
register under his arm, jumps into the boat, which pushes off.
"Captain, kindly range on deck all persons on board! Let each have
his identification papers in his hand. I shall inspect them in five
minutes!"
Stewardesses, stewards scatter through the cabins, which are filled
with a sudden stir. In the midst of a concert of exclamations, murmurs,
and laughter, feverish fingers dive into portfolios and bags. Travelers
whose souls are white immediately find what is wanted; the ladies fix
their hair, hastily dab a little powder on a suspicion of sunburn, and
give themselves a finishing touch. The whole thing is tremendously
amusing to them. Just as if it were on the stage! It would not take
much to make them put on their prettiest dresses. But the officer is
getting impatient, and the Captain is apologizing; one passenger cannot
find his passport, which he thinks he has left in his trunk. Exactly!
the story is an old one! But let this German quarry climb up, just as
he is!
Finally, every one is drawn up in two or several lines--like a row of
blind men holding out their trays, each one holds his passport. The men
are extremely serious, almost indignant, and, behind their foreheads,
you can divine silent tempests; they are on the watch for an imprudent
word, in order to invoke their Consuls, their Ambassadors, and the
inviolable rights of neutrals. A vain hope. The officer sharply scans
them, and turns over their papers with a careful finger. Stamps and
paragraphs are in order, and also the description; the passports, the
certificate of nationality, do not smell of trickery. But there is no
touchstone like language; a few words, a few phrases, tell many secrets
to expert ears, and hesitation shows guilt where the papers show
innocence.
"Be so good as to tell me where you come from. Be so good as to tell me
your name and your birthday. Have you been long abroad? Be so good as
to answer in your own language. What is your profession?"
You must question pointblank, in different ways, and be careful not to
carry on the conversation. No discussion, an instantaneous judgment,
and you pass on.
The true prizes, the genuine booty, you recognize by sure
symptoms--Germanic faces, Teutonic accents, harsh or honeyed answers,
stammered explanations. In vain do they disguise their names and hand
us forged writings, their Germanic race leaks through all their pores.
They are hurrying to foment rebellion in Egypt or Tripoli; they are
on their way to the Balkans to do their work; to burrow underground
in India or China. Invariably they have Swiss or Dutch passports, but
their certificate of nationality, brand new, is fresh from the printing
press, and reminds you of false coins, too new and shiny. Suspects!
The officer goes down to their cabins. Under the mattress, behind the
washstand, in the folds of a counterpane, lie the incriminating papers.
Enemies!
From this point, one must go on decisively, gracefully, in the French
fashion. The officer halts in front of the German, addresses him by
name, lays a light finger on his sleeve or shoulder, and says, without
raising his voice:
"I arrest you. Follow my sailor, who will take your baggage and put you
into the boat."
Cries, explosions of anger, insults must not disturb him. He must add
nothing. What has been said has been said.