"Then the sooner the better," added his host. "At the present time it is hardly safe for a neutral ship to be at sea. We neutrals are like a man standing on two rickety stools. At any moment one might collapse and let us down badly. Holland and Denmark are the worst off, I should say. It will indeed be a marvel if they can contrive to avoid being drawn in by the vortex, even as Belgium was."
"We came into the war to help Belgium," remarked Tressidar. "Only——"
The Norwegian smiled blandly.
"My friend," he interrupted, "let me tell you something. The onlookers see most of the game. The cry about violating the neutrality of Belgium that your politicians are so fond of raising is mere clap-trap. It served its purpose to unite the various political factions in England, that was all. You English had a chance that might, perhaps, never occur again. It was a favourable chance to smash German militarism, and, luckily for you, you took it. Even if Belgium had not been involved, Great Britain would have ranged herself on the side of France and Russia. When big Empires wage war, little States do not count."
Tressidar merely inclined his head in assent. He, too, knew that the Norwegian spoke the truth. Long before the German troops set foot in Belgium the British Fleet was "standing fast" in readiness to help in the necessary task of freeing Europe, nay, the world, from the menace of Prussianism as preached by the disciples of kultur.
At daybreak the "Freya" rounded the Naze, the southernmost point of Norway. Ahead lay the broad waters of the Skager Rack. In normal times, following the breaking up of the ice, the sound would be dotted with vessels of all nationalities engaged in trade with the Baltic ports. Now not a sail was visible. The heavily sparred German timber ships, like the rest of the mercantile navy of Prussia, had long since been swept off the seas.
The quaint Russian barques, too, that were familiar in almost every British port of any size, were no longer to be seen. A few Swedish merchantmen, timorously hugging the Norwegian coast, might have been discerned had the weather been clear. Otherwise, save for the spectacular "dashes" of a few German warships—short cruises to cheer up the Huns in the belief that their navy did plough the high-seas—the Skager Rack presented almost as desolate an aspect as the Dead Sea.
The "Freya" hugged the shore closely, keeping well within the three-mile limit. Even at that distance the land was frequently obscured by patches of mist that drove slowly across the sea under the mild southerly wind.
Presently the tramp ran into a thick bank of fog. With a dangerous shore so close under her lee, it was imperative that every precaution should be taken to prevent her being carried out of her course by the strong indraught. Speed was reduced to a minimum necessary to carry steerage way, while the syren was kept going to warn possible approaching vessels of her presence.
Suddenly, like the passing of a compact cloud across the sun, the fog lifted. The ship was still within the three-mile limit, but between her and the Norwegian coast was a fleet of warships steaming rapidly in the same direction and on a parallel course that, if maintained, would bring them within a cable's length of the "Freya."