like a heavy sea, fought with the band.
They danced, drank Portuguese beer, talked, argued, flirted and enjoyed themselves with the ardour of youth. Rohrbach heard Germans at the next table. There were four men there and he knew from what they said that they were seamen. One of them, the big one who looked like a prize-fighter , had been in the launch with the two girls in the boat harbour. Rohrbach nudged Mariotta. “Those chaps at the table—next to that mirror—aren’t they my countrymen?”
Puzzled at first, she smiled. “Of course! You’re German. I keep forgetting. You speak such good English. Yes, they are Germans. From the ships. I know one. Do you wish to meet him?”
He shook his head. “Not here. I can’t hob-nob with Germans ashore. Make things difficult for me in South Africa.” He pulled at his beard; he was determined not to let this chance pass. “When you and Cleo came ashore in the launch the other day, who was the bloke who helped you ashore—middle-aged? Then you two went off in a taxi with him and another type?”
Cleo wagged a finger at him. “You are like a spy.”
“Ha! Ha!” Rohrbach knew his laugh was feeble and hated himself for it.
“That was Captain Kurt Lindemann of the Hagenfels . The other was his second officer, Günther Moewe.”
Rohrbach yawned, looking round the room. “How come you were in the launch?” It really did sound casual: much better than his guffaw.
“We’d had tea on the Hagenfels with Kurt.”
“You are lucky! I’d love to go on a German ship again. Feel myself on German soil. Speak my language.”
“Me, too,” said Johan. “I’m not German, but I admire them. Like to meet them. They’re terrific fighters.”
“They are very brave people,” said Mariotta. “Wonderful soldiers.”
Johan said: “ And sailors. Wonderful sailors!”
Blast him, thought Rohrbach. He’s so bloody obvious.
“You’re a great admirer of theirs, aren’t you, Johan?” said Mariotta.
“Terrific!” The beer made a drain-like noise as he up-ended the tankard. “One day I hope to fight with them.”
“Is that possible?” Mariotta was puzzled.
“We shall see,” said Johan. “We shall see.”
Rohrbach kicked him under the table, hard.
Mariotta was staring at the German who looked like a bruiser. He bowed and she smiled. “He is the one I know,” she said to Rohrbach. “Heinrich Schäffer. Second engineer of the Hagenfels .”
“Pouf!” Cleo pouted. “I do not like him. He has only one idea.”
“Disgusting!” Johan winked at Rohrbach who thought, damn his lights, he’s tight.
Before they finished with her Mariotta had promised to ask Lindemann if she and Cleo could take them to a party in the Hagenfels . “I am sure he will like you,” she was compellingly intense. “He is very sympathetic.”
“I’m sure I shall like him ,” said Rohrbach.
Johan kicked him under the table.
Mariotta said: “It will have to be soon, or not at all.”
Then Rohrbach saw her embarrassment and signalled to Johan to shut up. It will have to be soon or not at all . So the rumour was true. The Hagenfels was standing by for a break out. German security wasn’t so wonderful after all.
Rohrbach rescued her. “Yes. Or we shall have gone. We have not much longer here.”
She was relieved, all right. No mistaking that.
A few nights later they met at the summer-house on the cliff drive below the Polana. The night was cool after a hot day, and an easterly wind came in from the sea. The Newt arrived first. Irritable because they were late and he’d left Di Brett with a sugar planter from the Zambesia Province who was making a heavy pass at the young widow. The hell of it was, she seemed to enjoy it.
When he’d complained she said: “Jealousy doesn’t become you, James. I’m only being polite to him.”
“You’re encouraging him.”
“ James ! That comes badly from you. You’re a married man and look how you’ve encouraged me
They danced, drank Portuguese beer, talked, argued, flirted and enjoyed themselves with the ardour of youth. Rohrbach heard Germans at the next table. There were four men there and he knew from what they said that they were seamen. One of them, the big one who looked like a prize-fighter , had been in the launch with the two girls in the boat harbour. Rohrbach nudged Mariotta. “Those chaps at the table—next to that mirror—aren’t they my countrymen?”
Puzzled at first, she smiled. “Of course! You’re German. I keep forgetting. You speak such good English. Yes, they are Germans. From the ships. I know one. Do you wish to meet him?”
He shook his head. “Not here. I can’t hob-nob with Germans ashore. Make things difficult for me in South Africa.” He pulled at his beard; he was determined not to let this chance pass. “When you and Cleo came ashore in the launch the other day, who was the bloke who helped you ashore—middle-aged? Then you two went off in a taxi with him and another type?”
Cleo wagged a finger at him. “You are like a spy.”
“Ha! Ha!” Rohrbach knew his laugh was feeble and hated himself for it.
“That was Captain Kurt Lindemann of the Hagenfels . The other was his second officer, Günther Moewe.”
Rohrbach yawned, looking round the room. “How come you were in the launch?” It really did sound casual: much better than his guffaw.
“We’d had tea on the Hagenfels with Kurt.”
“You are lucky! I’d love to go on a German ship again. Feel myself on German soil. Speak my language.”
“Me, too,” said Johan. “I’m not German, but I admire them. Like to meet them. They’re terrific fighters.”
“They are very brave people,” said Mariotta. “Wonderful soldiers.”
Johan said: “ And sailors. Wonderful sailors!”
Blast him, thought Rohrbach. He’s so bloody obvious.
“You’re a great admirer of theirs, aren’t you, Johan?” said Mariotta.
“Terrific!” The beer made a drain-like noise as he up-ended the tankard. “One day I hope to fight with them.”
“Is that possible?” Mariotta was puzzled.
“We shall see,” said Johan. “We shall see.”
Rohrbach kicked him under the table, hard.
Mariotta was staring at the German who looked like a bruiser. He bowed and she smiled. “He is the one I know,” she said to Rohrbach. “Heinrich Schäffer. Second engineer of the Hagenfels .”
“Pouf!” Cleo pouted. “I do not like him. He has only one idea.”
“Disgusting!” Johan winked at Rohrbach who thought, damn his lights, he’s tight.
Before they finished with her Mariotta had promised to ask Lindemann if she and Cleo could take them to a party in the Hagenfels . “I am sure he will like you,” she was compellingly intense. “He is very sympathetic.”
“I’m sure I shall like him ,” said Rohrbach.
Johan kicked him under the table.
Mariotta said: “It will have to be soon, or not at all.”
Then Rohrbach saw her embarrassment and signalled to Johan to shut up. It will have to be soon or not at all . So the rumour was true. The Hagenfels was standing by for a break out. German security wasn’t so wonderful after all.
Rohrbach rescued her. “Yes. Or we shall have gone. We have not much longer here.”
She was relieved, all right. No mistaking that.
A few nights later they met at the summer-house on the cliff drive below the Polana. The night was cool after a hot day, and an easterly wind came in from the sea. The Newt arrived first. Irritable because they were late and he’d left Di Brett with a sugar planter from the Zambesia Province who was making a heavy pass at the young widow. The hell of it was, she seemed to enjoy it.
When he’d complained she said: “Jealousy doesn’t become you, James. I’m only being polite to him.”
“You’re encouraging him.”
“ James ! That comes badly from you. You’re a married man and look how you’ve encouraged me
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