Behold these two, then, _tête-à-tête_ in the captain's private room, and exchanging confidences over the luncheon table. The captain, deprived of official information for the past three or four days, was thirsting for news regarding fresh developments in the war, and his lean, bronzed face lit up with eagerness when he inquired if the Vice-Consul had anything new and special to report. "_Ya wohl!_ Something of the greatest importance," replied the official. "A matter for consultation, and in which your advice will be valuable." And the Vice-Consul proceeded to put the skipper _au courant_ with the bare facts concerning the predicament in which Lieutenant Koch and his companions found themselves at Pampeluna, the official request for whatever assistance he could render them, the strange coincidence of Koch and himself being old college chums, and so on. III--THE CONSPIRACY IN THE CAPTAIN'S CABIN "It's very evident, captain, that we must do something for them," continued the Vice-Consul. "Pampeluna is a long way from Vigo, but I think something can be done if we put our heads together. I can't read all that's in the official mind which inspired that memorandum, but it's quite clear the authorities regard Vigo as the most convenient open door for Koch and his ten brother-officers. An open door, provided it is _held_ open for them. The question is, how are we going to do that? I can see a way of solving part of the difficulty. You can leave the Pampeluna portion to me. There are plenty of ways of opening prison doors in a country like this. As a landsman, I am convinced I can open the land door without much trouble, but it requires a sailor like you to attend to the sea door. That's way I've come to you." "And you couldn't have come to a more willing man," replied the captain, emphatically. "Try and realize what I've had to suffer on this infernal ship during the last twenty-three months, with the eyes of the authorities continually on me and the _Wehrt_, and every little jack-in-office sniffing around at unexpected moments, and you'll understand how I feel for your friend and his companions. Yes, we've got to do what we can for them. The submarine is the only effectual weapon left to Germany, so if we succeed in returning to her eleven of her brave U-boat men we shall truly have done good patriotic work. Now, at the back of my brain I've got a plan. You're welcome to it. You know, I suppose, that the _Virgen del Socorro_ is for sale? She's as tight a little schooner as ever left the port of Vigo. I've often admired her lines and speed as she sailed past the _Wehrt_. Now, when this war is over and we've reduced everybody's tonnage, save our own, to a minimum, the _Virgen del Socorro_ will be worth her weight in gold. At the price she is going at to-day the boat is a splendid speculation. Why don't you buy her? You'd find it worth your while, I think, to be the sleeping partner."