It could not be the coast of England, which would have been reached long ago.  But where was the landing to take place, if not there?  To what distant shore was the German army being taken, the largest whose destinies had ever been entrusted to the treacherous waves of the sea?

When daylight again brought a report from the scouts that the enemy’s ships were nowhere to be seen, the Commander-in-Chief of the army could not help expressing his surprise to the Admiral that the English had apparently entirely neglected scouting in the North Sea, and further, that they did not even see any merchant vessels.

“The explanation of this apparently surprising fact is not very remote, Your Excellency,” replied the Admiral.  “We should hardly sight any merchantmen, since maritime trade is now almost entirely at a standstill, owing to the insecurity of the seas.  We have not met a flotilla of fishing-boats, since in this part of the North Sea there are no fishing-grounds.  We see none of the enemy’s ships, since the English have most likely calculated every other possibility except our attempting to land in Scotland.”

“Your explanation is obvious, Herr Admiral; nevertheless, it seems to me that our enemy must have neglected to take the necessary precautions in keeping a look-out.”

“Your Excellency must not draw an offhand comparison between operations on land and on sea.  The conditions in the latter are essentially different.  I do not doubt for a moment that there is a sufficient number of English scouts in the North Sea; if we have really escaped their notice, the fortune of war has been favourable to us.  I may tell Your Excellency that, even during our manoeuvres in the Baltic, where we know the course as well as the speed and strength of the marked enemy, he has sometimes succeeded in making his way through, unseen by our scouts.  Perhaps this will mitigate your judgment of this apparent want of foresight on the part of the English.”

At last, on the evening of the 16th of July, land was reported by the Konig Wilhelm.  The end of the journey was in sight, and the news spread rapidly that it was the coast of Scotland rising from the waves.

“We are going to enter the Firth of Forth,” was the general opinion.  Even the brave soldiers, who perhaps heard the name for the first time in their lives, repeated the word with as important an air as if all the secrets of the military staff had been all at once revealed to them.

In the red light of the setting sun both shores appeared tinged with violet from the deep-blue sky and the grey-blue sea, the north shore being further off than the south.  Favoured by a calm sea, the squadron, extended in close order to a distance of about five knots, made for the entrance of the Firth of Forth.