The happy moment, however, did
come. We were spotted by a mine-sweeper, and she raced to the rescue.
Our mangled machine was hoisted on the kite crane of the little vessel.
We had been thirty-six hours without food and water, and most of the
time bumped about on the sea.

"That would seem to be about enough for the evil genius to perform, eh?
But we were doomed to have another surprise in store. I went to bed in a
room in a little hotel, and had hardly closed my eyes when there was a
great explosion; the whole place seemed about to fall down. I put on an
overcoat, and tore outside to discover that those blamed destroyers
which I had seen earlier were bombarding the place where I went to
sleep. A lucky shot demolished the building next to the one in which I
was in bed; then I went back to bed, too tired to care what else
happened."

IV. SWEEPING THE SEAS FOR MINES

There are days when a mine-sweeper captain, who is continually running
the gauntlet of death, reckons that he has been fortunate. Usually this
is when he just escapes being blown to bits with his vessel or sees what
can happen to a steamship when it strikes one of the enemy mines planted
at random in the North Sea. There are days when he goes out and sees
nothing worth while. However, despite the great danger, unseen and
unheard until all is over, these mine-sweeper men guide their vessels
out daybreak after daybreak, with the same old carefree air, to perform
their allotted task in this war.

Many of these men were fishermen, who looked as if they had slipped out
of funny stories in their thick jerseys and sou'-westers; now they are
part and parcel of the British Navy, proud of the blue uniform and brass
buttons and--when they have them--of the wavy gold bands on their
sleeves. There are others who were officers and so forth in the
mercantile marine in pre-war days. They have sailed the seas from John
o' Groats to Tokio: and to them New York is merely a jaunt.

One of the latter, who was a passenger-vessel officer, attracted a deal
of attention at an East English port by his indefatigable labour and
fearlessness in his risky job, until he was rewarded for more than two
years of grinning at death by the Distinguished Service Cross.

He knows Broadway well, can tell you where he likes best to get his hair
cut, and where he considers they put up the best cocktail. One day I was
permitted to take a trip with this captain-lieutenant--and get back.