Chapter XI: Music

On deck was a band playing dirge-like dragging hymns, for the Admiral of that ship was a very pious man and believed that the Almighty was personally directing the war against the enemies of Fatterland, and would be encouraged to hear that ship’s company taking him seriously.

No sooner did Siebenhaar set foot on deck than he was arrested.

The Chaplain had listened to every word of his discourse and reported it to the Admiral, who detested Siebenhaar because he was always laughing and was very popular with the crew. Word for word the Chaplain had quoted Siebenhaar’s sayings, so that he could deny nothing but only protest that it was purely a private matter, a series of opinions and advice given gratuitously to an interesting couple.

“Nothing,” roared the Admiral, “is given to the enemies of our country.”

“We are all human,” said Siebenhaar. “I was carried away by the discovery of human feeling amid the callousness of this pompous war.”

The Admiral went pale. The Chaplain shuddered. The officers hid their faces.

“He has spoken against God’s holy war,” said the Chaplain.

“That’s all my eye,” said Siebenhaar. “Why drag God into it? You are making war simply because you have so many ships that you are ashamed not to use them. The armament companies want to build more ships and can invent no other way of getting rid of them.”

“God has given us ships of war,” said the Chaplain, “even as He has given us the good grain and the fish of the sea. Who are we that we should not use them?”

The sub-Chaplain had been sent to discover the effect of Siebenhaar’s advice upon the enemies of Fatterland. The accused had just opened his mouth to resume his defence when the sub-Chaplain returned and whispered into the ear of his chief.

“God help us all!” cried the Chaplain. “They are desecrating His ship!”

There was a whispered consultation. George and Arabella were brought before the court, and if George was the object of general execration, Arabella won the admiration of all eyes, especially the Admiral’s, who regarded his affections as his own particular, private and peculiar devil and was now tempted by him. The Chaplain held forth at great length; the Admiral grunted in apostrophe. Only Siebenhaar could interpret. He said:

“They say we have blasphemed their God of War. I by giving advice, you by acting on it. It is not good to be fortunate and favoured among hundreds of mateless males. It will go hard with us.”

“And Arabella?” asked George.

“They will keep Arabella,” replied Siebenhaar.

They were silenced.

A boat was stocked with corned beef, biscuits, and water. George and Siebenhaar were placed in it and it was lowered. The band resumed its playing of dirge-like dragging hymns, and through the wailing of the oboes and the cornet-à-piston George could hear the sobs of Arabella.