as some of the passengers remarked to the captain, "If there is no blockade, as the Germans say, why haven't you more raiders out, instead of only one, and why have few been able to come out?" There was of course no answer to this! The captain further remarked that even if there were a blockade it would always be possible to get through it at the week-end, as all the British blockading fleet returned to port for that time! The Wolf, he said, came out through the blookade at the week-end, and got home through the blockade at the week-end. It was quite simple, we were to do the same!

On the 20th we were off Bergen and saw the coast in the distance, the next day we were nearer the coast, and on that night we encountered the greatest storm we experienced on the cruise. The wind was terrifio, huge seas broke over the ship, the alleyway outside the cabins was awash all the night, and the water even invaded the saloon to a small extent. Articles and receptacles for water that had not been made absolutely fast in the cabins were tossed about; many cabins were drenched and running with water. The noise of the wind howling and the seas breaking on the deck was so alarming to those in the outside cabins that they assembled in the saloon, as sleep was out of the question. The ship, though steaming full speed, made no progress that night, but went back, and in

three days, the 19th, 20th, and 21st, made only 100 knots. After such stormy nights, and in such bitter temperature, a breakfast of cold canned crab, or dry bread with sugar, or rice and hot water plus a very little gravy, or bread and muchwatered condensed milk, was not very nourishing or satisfying, but very often that was all we had. This weather of course pleased the German captain, who said that no enemy ship would or could beard him under such conditions. In fact, he said no enemy vessel would be out of port in such storms! They alone were sufficiently terrifying to the landsmen amongst us; the prospect of having to take to the lifeboats if the Germans took it into their head to sink the vessel if she were sighted by an enemy ship added to the fears of all of us. There had been no boat-drill, and the lifeboat accommodation was hopelessly inadequate for more than eighty people now on board. It is certain, with the mixed crew, that there would have been a savage fight for the boats. The prospect, looked at from any point of view, was alarming, and one of the greatest anxiety for us all.

On February 22 we rounded the Naze. Here, we thought, we should certainly come across some British vessel. But that day and the next passed-it seemed as if we too were to get in during the week-end !— and hope of rescue disappeared. The bearing of the Germans towards us became markedly changed. We were almost in

their clutches now, the arrival at Kiel and transference to Ruhleben were openly talked of, and our captors showed deoided inclination to jeer at us and our misfortunes. We were told that all diaries, if we had kept them, must be destroyed, or we should be severely punished when we arrived in Germany. Accordingly, those of us who had kept diaries made ready to destroy them.

Sunday, February 24, dawned, a cold cheerless day. We were now in the comparatively narrow waters of the Skager Rack -our last chance had nearly gone. Most of us were resigned to our fate and saw no hope, but some said we still might see a British war vessel when we rounded the Skaw. At midday 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; "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 eaptain welcomed was just a little too much for him; it was to prove his undoing instead of 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 midday 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 mine-field-not a very cheerful prospect with floating mines round us in a fog. But we were all too far gone to care; nothing could be much worse than imprisonment in Germany, and some of us were discussing the prospects and conditions of this 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, 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. The fog was fairly thick, we could just make out through it the line of the shore, and the waves breaking on it some distance away; and two syrens were going at full blast, one from a lightship, one from a lighthouse. The German officers became agitated, a boat was got out, soundings made, and various means adopted to work the ship off, but all were of no avail. The captain admitted his charts of this particular spot were not new and not good. 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 time to time, but no

movement could be made. Darkness fell, and found us still stuck fast. Our spirits had begun to rise, the prospect was distinctly brighter, and soon after six o'clock the assistant lieutenant went ashore in mufti to telephone to the nearest port, Frederikshavn, for help. What reply he received we never heard, but we did hear that he reported he was on a German ship from Bergen to Kiel, and wanted help. Lorenco Marques to Kiel, við Iceland, would have been nearer the truth!

About eight o'clock we heard from one of the neutrals among the crew that the captain of a salvage tug was shortly coming aboard to inquire into matters. The ladies among us decided to stay in the saloon while the captain of the tug interviewed the German captain in the chart-room above it. On the arrival of the tug captain on the bridge the ladies in the saloon created a veritable pandemonium in the saloon, singing, shrieking, and laughing at the top of their voices. It sounded more like a Christmas party than one of desperate prisoners in distress. The Danish captain departed; what had been the result of his visit we did not know, but at any rate he knew there were women on board. The German captain came down from the saloon, asked pleasantly enough what all the noise was about, and said, "I have offered the salvage people £5000 to tow the ship off. Money is nothing to us Germans. This will be

done at four to-morrow morning, and we shall then proceed on our way to Kiel."

Some of us had talked over a plan suggested by the second mate of one of the captured ships, by which a neutral among the crew should contrive to go ashore in one of the tug's boats in the darkness, communicate with the nearest British Consul, and inform him of the situation and the desperate case we were in. We promised him £500, to be raised among the "saloon passengers," if by so doing our rescue should be accomplished.

We remained in the saloon talking over developments when we heard that a Danish gunboat had come nearly alongside, and that her commander was coming on board. He had presumably received a report from the captain of the tug. We heard afterwards that he had his suspicions about the ship, and had brought with him on board one of his own men to make inquiries of the crew, among whom were Norwegians, Swedes, and Danes, while he kept the German commander busy in the saloon. The previous mistake of taking the Danish captain on to the bridge was not to be repeated. The commander of the gunboat was to come into the saloon. So the ladies could not remain there and make their presence known, but some of them contrived to leave some of their garments on the table and settee in the saloon-a muff, hats, gloves, &o. These the Danish

commander must have seen; and not only that, for he 8&W some ladies who had stood in one door of the saloon before they were sent to their cabins when he entered at the other one. He also saw a passenger in khaki uniform, the Australian Major of the A.M.C., and other passengers standing with the ladies in the alleyway. If he had entertained any suspicions as to the correct character of the ship, which the Germans were of course trying to conceal, they must have been strongly confirmed by now. It was too late for us to be sent to our cabins, as a German sailor came and ordered. We had achieved our object.

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 general anxiety concerning our desperate condition. At four in the morning we heard the engines working, as the captain had told us they would, but still no movement could be heard. Soon the engines ceased: 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." It seemed too good to be true;

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, clear of fog, less than half a mile away, the first really solid earth we had seen near at hand since we left Colombo exactly five months before. 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.

The German captain took his bad luck in good part; but he was, of course, as sick as we were rejoiced at the turn events had taken. He had known the night before he could get no help from the Danish authorities, as they refused towing assistance till all the passengers had been taken off the ship. But he had hoped to get off unaided at four in the morning. He professed great anger with the Danes, saying that if they had only helped as he requested, the ship could have been towed off in the night, and we with all our baggage could have been landed at & Danish port alongside a pier the next morning, instead of having to leave all our baggage behind on the ship. I fancy not many of us believed this; if the ship had been got off, we should have brought up at