s had sought in vain to wrest the
trident from Britannia's virile grasp.

At about five in the afternoon the _Capella_ arrived at her station off
Beachy Head, relieving her sister ship the _Markab_, that, with three
other motor-driven craft, had been engaged in a vigorous, but for the
most part uneventful, patrol.

Day and night for a fortnight at a stretch, unless anything unforeseen
took place, the _Capella_ was to cruise up and down, keeping a smart
look-out for any sign of an object resembling a hostile periscope. In
order to economize her fuel supply her speed was reduced to 10 knots.
It was then that her bad qualities showed themselves. With her shallow
draught and high freeboard she rolled like a barrel, since speed was
essential to impart steadiness. The motion was certainly
disconcerting, although it did not imply that the _Capella_ was
unseaworthy.

"'Fraid our chances of bagging another U-boat to-day are off," remarked
Barry to Ross.

It was within half an hour of sunset. The chums had been temporarily
separated. It was Vernon's "watch below". The senior Sub and young
Trefusis were on the bridge. In spite of the still-prevailing east
wind it was a grand evening. Three miles away, broad on the starboard
beam, the chalk cliffs known as the Seven Sisters were beginning to be
tinted by the crimson hues of the western sky. To seaward, three large
vessels were in sight. One, a liner bound down-Channel, was pelting
along at such a pace with the wind that the smoke from her funnels was
rising almost perpendicularly. Forging ahead in the opposite direction
were two big tramps, the smoke from their funnels, beaten down by the
strong breeze, trailing across the surface of the water for a couple of
miles in their wake.

"An object lesson," remarked Barry. "The arteries of the Empire. Hang
it all! The blockade reminds me of a pigmy treacherously stealing up
behind a giant and trying to cut his jugular vein. Instead, he merely
scratched a comparatively unimportant capillary, and feels mighty sorry
for himself when the giant turns and scruffs him by the neck."

Leaning over the bridge-rails, the Sub startled his companion by
bellowing in a voice loud enough to be heard a mile away:

"On look-outs! Stand by bow and stern lights!"

The _Capella_ was making preparations for the night. Unlike the armed
merchantmen that are compelled to scour the North Sea, summer and
winter alike, without showing the