She carries no lights, and the ghostly outline of her bellying canvas is dimly silhouetted against the moonless sky. In a few seconds she has disappeared in the deep darkness.
But what is that? The lines of a torpedo-boat show up to port; the rays of a pair of searchlights dart through the air and disappear again. Then another flash sweeps upward, the cone growing larger and larger. Now he has us; on the decks of the Aud it is light as day, our eyes are blinded for the moment. A few seconds of this and the cone disappears again as quickly as it came.
The Danish torpedo-boat that guards the entrance of the sound, to protect Danish neutrality, has held us for a moment under the magnifying glass, so to speak, to examine our distinctive markings—and has passed us as a harmless neutral.
FOOTNOTE:
[3] English being much more often understood by Norwegian captains than German. When the author quotes English, it is given exactly as he writes it.
CHAPTER VIII IN ENEMY WATERS
A quarter of an hour after passing the torpedo-boat we had crossed the three-mile limit, and were in enemy territory.[4]
We kept a sharp look-out, for at any moment now we might run across an English cruiser, destroyer, or submarine.