It was a night of great unrest, but finally most of us lay down in our clothes.  For very many nights we had been unable to rest properly owing to the violence of the weather, the possibility of having to leave the ship at any moment, and our general anxiety concerning our desperate condition.  We had not had our clothes off for many days.  At 4 a.m. we heard the engines working, as the Captain had told us they would, but still no movement of the ship could be felt.  How we prayed that the ship might refuse to budge!  She did refuse, and soon the engines ceased working; it was evident then that the attempt to get the ship off must for the present be given up.  The wind was rising and the sea getting rougher, and at 6 a.m. a German sailor came and knocked at the doors of all the cabins, saying, “Get up, and pack your baggage and go ashore.” We were to go ashore?  We, who had not seen the shore for months, and had never expected to land on any, much less a free one, were to go ashore? Were we dreaming?  No, it was true, though it seemed too good to be believed.  Never was order more willingly and gladly obeyed!  But first we had to see how the ship stood with regard to the shore; we went out on deck to look—­there was the blessed green shore less than half a mile away, the first really solid earth we had seen close at hand since we left Colombo exactly five months before.  Only those who have seen nothing but the sea for many months can imagine with what a thrill of joy we saw the shore and realized that we were saved at last.  We had seen the sea under nearly every aspect possible, from the Equator to the Arctic regions, and we had appreciated more than ever before its vastness.  And yet in all these months, travelling these thousands of miles, we had, besides the few vessels already mentioned, seen hardly any ships!  We had been under shell-fire, taken prisoner, had lived on board a German raider and in her evil company many months, had been in lifeboats once in the open sea, were about to go in once more, in a rough sea, to be rescued from captivity, had seen our ship sunk and another one captured and scuttled, had been through terrific wintry weather in the North Atlantic, among icebergs, in the submarine zone, and on the very borders of an enemy minefield!—­experiences that perhaps no other landsmen have passed through!  Not many of us wish for sea travel again.

Lieutenant Rose came along and told us to hurry, or we might not be able to get off, as the sea was getting rougher every minute.  We did hurry indeed, and it did not take us long to dress and throw our things into our bags.  When we had done so and were ready to go to the lifeboats, we were told that we might take no baggage whatever, as the lifeboat was from a shore station and could save lives only, not baggage.