The engineer spoke again.
"What does Borkum say?"
"Enemy disappeared into the offing—could not keep their stations in this weather."
"It is our chance, then."
"Yes—perhaps."
"You fear——?"
"Everything—in this rat-trap. The picket-boats are all in. If only we could start!"
"Jawohl—anything is better than this—besides, the movement of the engines is soothing—this stillness day after day is unnerving. If only we had some good Welsh coal! This soft stuff! One burns and burns and gets no heat!"
"And advertise ourselves to every cursed scout in the North Sea!"
A sailor, heavy in oilskins, drew up and saluted.