The unter-leutnant had previously rehearsed a most plausible story with which to gull the Englishmen, but a look of comical dismay overspread his features when he recognized the officers who a short while ago had been prisoners on board the raider. At last he mustered up sufficient courage to demand, somewhat haughtily, that he and his men should be accorded honourable treatment as prisoners of war. "Certainly," replied Stirling blandly. "I am sorry that you should imagine otherwise. But, of course, the fact that Major von Eckenstein and his men have adopted civilian attire tends to put them on a different footing." Von Eckenstein's face, or as much of it as was visible between the swathed bandages, grew pale. He remembered the incident when he slashed O'Hara across the face. Visions of reprisals rendered him terror-stricken. "Forgive me, Herr O'Hara!" he almost shouted. The Irishman smiled affably. "Forgive?" he echoed. "There is nothing to forgive. You gave O'Hara a cut across the face. It raised quite a small weal. Judging by the state of your figurehead, I'm afraid my treatment of you on the shore of the lagoon rather disturbed the balance of exchange." "You did this?" asked the major, dumbfounded at the information. "Donnerwetter! I thought----" Sheer astonishment rendered him incapable of completing the sentence. He could not understand why the British officer received him with unperturbed courtesy. Evidently here was something adrift with the Teutonic gospel of hate. "So you were making for Latham Island to resurrect the hidden stores?" asked Denbigh, addressing the unter-leutnant. The young German officer was also completely taken aback. "Yes," he admitted. "But how came you to know that we had stores buried there?" "That's a secret," replied the sub. "But I'll tell you this. You would have found yourselves forestalled. Some of the _Pelikan's_ men made a dash for the island, fitted out the whaler, and left the place as bare as an empty house. They did not get far. The boat was capsized and all on board perished, except one man, who is now a prisoner on board this vessel." "Now, gentlemen," broke in Stirling briskly, addressing the major and the unter-leutnant, "I must ask you to go below, but before doing so I will take the liberty of examining the contents of Major von Eckenstein's pockets." "Himmel!" gasped the major. "For why? According to the rights of belligerents my personal property is not liable to be confiscated." "Your personal property--yes," replied Stirling. "Come, sir, no fuss, if you please." Sullenly the German permitted a petty officer to remove the contents of his pockets. There was an order-book, containing a few pencilled memoranda; a pocket-book in which were papers seemingly of purely personal interest; some notes on a South American bank. "Kindly remove your waistcoat," continued the inexorable Stirling.