THE FIRST SIGN OF THE ENEMY
Towards nine o'clock there set in, unfortunately, a marked change of
weather. A light wind from the west gradually dispersed the fog, so that
it soon became quite clear, with good visibility.
The moon had already risen, but considerately remained hidden behind a
cloud, so that the silhouette of our ship was not very distinct.
Towards midnight, we reckoned, we should be abreast of Lindesnaes. Here
we expected to find the coast most closely watched by the English, since
all traffic, whether from north, east, or west, must pass this
south-western corner of Norway. In order not to arouse unnecessary
suspicion, I ordered the mast-head light and side-lights to be lighted.
But before doing so, I had the lenses rubbed over with lampblack, so
that the lights could scarcely have been visible a few ship's lengths
away.
We could thus, at any rate, say that we had our lamps burning, and throw
the blame of their condition upon the lamp-trimmer. In the rest of the
ship all lights were carefully screened.
Hour after hour of anxious waiting went by--another half-hour, another
quarter, and we shall have Lindesnaes right abeam. Shall we get through
unobserved?
We were spared the trouble of answering that question. Suddenly there
was a flash to northward, and directly over the horizon there appeared
one after another, one, two, three, four searchlights, making
criss-cross patterns with their beams. Time after time they grazed us.
When one of them suddenly rested a moment on us, we thought we were
seen, but no; for a few seconds later it released us again and
illuminated the water astern of us. Then another came sweeping round,
and yet another. This merry game went on for perhaps five minutes, but
that brief span seemed to us like an eternity, for every moment we
expected a shot across our bows as a gentle hint to us to stop. But
nothing happened.
It was only when the beams began to concentrate on a spot some distance
to the east of us, and then climbed up into the heavens that we breathed
freely once more.
After that I extinguished my lights again, and steered north-west for
the open sea.
From that time forward, a point which I always took into consideration
in laying my courses was that I should always be at least a day's
steaming distant from the famous Kirkwall Harbour, to which the English
sent in all suspicious ships. I counted that if we should be caught and
a prize crew put on board of us, within the twenty-four hours we could
find ways and means of dealing with our uninvited guests, and
recapturing our ship.
The next day passed without any greater excitements than those provided
by an encounter with a couple of suspicious-looking Dutch fishing-boats,
and a Norwegian steamer. The latter evidently did not fancy the looks of
her fellow-countryman, for she took to her heels, belching forth volumes
of the blackest smoke that her furnaces could produce, and only resumed
her course after giving us a very wide berth. We found it rather an
agreeable interlude to figure as hunter instead of quarry.