Hamerton made good use of his eyes during the passage. By a pure fluke the Diomeda had entered the newly completed artificial harbour, and was anchored within fifty yards of the nearest of a triple line of grey torpedo-boat destroyers. Beyond them, and closer inshore, were more than twenty of the latest type of German submarines, vessels of slightly over twelve hundred tons, and capable of action within a radius of seven hundred miles. One peculiarity he especially noticed: in addition to the twin periscopes there were four slender cylinders of almost the same height, although inclined at various angles with the deck.  

So keen was his interest that the German officer leant forward and tapped him on the shoulder.  

"You are forbidden to look about you," he said.  

"All right, my attentive fire-eater," mused the Sub. "You've caught me napping. I ought not to have let you see that I was curious. All the same, I think I know what those tubes are for. If they are not pneumatic guns for discharging aerial torpedoes from a submerged submarine, I'll eat my hat."  

Nevertheless Hamerton ignored the lieutenant's order, although he concealed to some extent the fact that he was making extraordinarily good use of his powers of observation.  

The face of the cliff was bristling with heavy ordnance, some of the guns being at least equal to the heaviest weapons mounted on the Royal Sovereign and her sisters—the latest completed battleships of the British Navy. As the boat drew nearer, the Sub could distinguish numbers of quick-firers mounted on the edge of the precipitous sides of the island, with searchlights on covered stands a short distance in the rear of the guns; while to prevent the possibility of unauthorized persons landing and scaling the cliffs, a formidable barbed-wire fence, projecting at an acute angle, rendered any attempt in that direction a total failure.  

All the while Hamerton and his American friend were scrambling into their clothes, and by the time the boat ran alongside a sheltered stone jetty they found themselves "rigged out" in a medley of garments. Detroit was accommodated with one of his comrade's flannel shirts, since the German officer had not exercised any discrimination in the hurried selection of the garments. Hamerton, unable to button a waistcoat over his broad chest—for the two waistcoats provided both belonged to Detroit—gave up the attempt, and devoted his attention to his footgear. This was made up of two old tennis shoes that the Sub used for 

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