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Updated: June 23, 2025
We're runnin' almost due south, an' that good-for-nothin' von Staden has been in communication wit' the fleet all day long. I feel it in me bones. If we get the ship back we'll head due west for the coast av South America an' hug the three-mile limit-an' the devil scoort them thin. Riggins, ye gossoon, what for the cause av Merry England?
He turned to the first mate: "Mr. Schultz, will you be good enough to see to it that Mr. von Staden's baggage is stowed in the owners' suite. Then tell the steward to see that our guest's quarters are put in order. Mr. von Staden, will you kindly step into my stateroom here while I read these orders?" Von Staden nodded.
While thus engaged he had heard the shot which von Staden fired at the captain, and forthwith had run across the top of the house and peered over to discover what was happening on the deck below.
It would be a sure sign of bad luck to the steamer Narcissus if a British cruiser should pick her up off the coast of Uruguay." Von Staden smiled. "You are very direct, captain very blunt indeed. This is a characteristic more Teutonic than Celtic, I believe, so I shall experience no embarrassment in being equally frank with you. Your cargo of coal is designed for our German Pacific fleet."
Schultz," he said ominously, "the things I'm going to do to you would make the devil blush." "So?" Mr. Schultz replied soothingly. "I'm going to hang von Staden. He's a pirate, and the rule of the Seven Seas is that a skipper hangs a pirate whenever he can lay hands on him. And you know me, Mr. Schultz. I'm a devil for etiquette aboard ship.
After that well, after that you might make your will, Dutchy." "I did that in Pernambuco," the delightful Herr von Staden replied, "so your advice is wasted." He handed the skipper the book on surgery and went out, carefully locking the door behind him.
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