The constant showers of rain and hail added to the blackness of the night. It was almost impossible to see at all. Suddenly, through a rift in the clouds, the moon shone out. And just in time.
Ahead, about four points on the starboard bow, a dark shadow was visible. No need to guess what it was, for already we could see, though vaguely, a long, lean hull with several promenade decks, two high, thin funnels, and two masts. Passenger liner or auxiliary cruiser? It was too dark to tell. All we could see—and we noted it with some satisfaction—was that, for all her 12,000 tons, she was making just as heavy weather of it as we were.
In spite of the breaking seas that swept over the after part of the ship, I reduced speed immediately. It was the only possible chance. As luck would have it, a sudden hail-shower hid us for the moment. The steamer carried no lights, and was going slow. Probably, therefore, an auxiliary cruiser on patrol.
A quarter of an hour of anxious waiting followed. Suddenly the liner seemed to wake up. Inexplicably, she increased speed and steamed away. By that time the distance between us had decreased to half a mile. If every one on board, including the officers of the watch, had not been asleep, they must have seen us.
The British boasted of the watchfulness of their fleet; I cannot help thinking that at the time of our break-through it must have been hibernating.
FOOTNOTES:
[5] Light to moderate breeze.
[6] Force 4, i.e. moderate breeze.
[7] 'Strong breeze' on the Beaufort scale, which does not recognise the 'half-a-gale' of ordinary parlance.
[8] 'Gale force.'