some said we still might see a British war vessel when we rounded the Skaw.  At mid-day the sailor on the look-out came into the saloon and reported to the Captain that a fog was coming on.  “Just the weather I want,” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands.  “With this lovely fog we shall round the Skaw and get into German waters unobserved.”  It looked, indeed, as if our arrival in Germany were now a dead certainty.

But the fog that the Captain welcomed was just a little too much for him; it was to prove his undoing rather than his salvation.  The “Good old German God,” about whom we had heard so much, was not going to see them through this time.  For once, we were to be favoured.  The white fog thickened after the mid-day meal, and, luckily for us, it was impossible to see far ahead.  Soon after two we passed a floating mine, and we knew that before long we should be going through a minefield—­not a very cheerful prospect with floating mines round us in a fog, especially as the Captain admitted that the position of the mines might have been altered since he last had knowledge of their exact situation!  But we were all too far gone to care now; and some of us gathered together in our cold and gloomy cabin were discussing the prospects and conditions of imprisonment in Germany and attempting to console ourselves with the reflection that even internment at Ruhleben could not be worse than the captivity we had experienced on the high seas, when, at 3.30 on that Sunday afternoon, we felt a slight bump, as if the ship had touched bottom.  Then another bump, and then still one more!  We were fast!  Were we really to be saved at the very last minute?  It began to look like it, like the beginning of the end, but it would not do to build too much on this slender foundation.  The engines continued working, but no progress was made; they were reversed—­still no movement.

One of the men amongst us was so overjoyed that he attempted a very premature somersault in the saloon.  He was sure it was to be a case of “Hooray for our side” this time!  What thoughts of freedom, what hopes flashed through our minds!  The fog was fairly thick, but we could just make out through it the line of the shore and the waves breaking on it some distance away, and two sirens were going at full blast, one from a lightship and one from a lighthouse.  The Captain, luckily from our point of view, had mistaken one for the other, and so had run aground.  The German officers became agitated; with great difficulty a boat was got out—­what chance should we have had if we had had to leave the ship in haste at any time?—­soundings made, and various means adopted to work the ship off, but all were of no avail.  The Captain admitted that his charts of this particular spot were not new and not good.  Again how lucky for us!  It was impossible to tell the state of the tide at this moment; we all hoped it might be high tide, for then our rescue would be certain.  The engines were set to work from