Another hour passed; then, with a partial lifting of the fog, the loom of the land could be discerned on either hand. "White and red group flashes on the starboard beam, sir," reported the look-out, then: "Red and green occulting flashes on port bow, sir." Raising his night-glasses, the Hon. Derek focused them first to starboard and then to port. Then he turned to the Sub. "We're through, Mr. Fordyce," he remarked. "Those are the Malmo lights to starboard. Telegraph for full speed ahead, if you please. Good-bye to the Baltic!" CHAPTER XXXIV Home Again It was fifteen miles to the nor'ard of the Skaw in broad daylight. R19 was running awash in a perfectly calm sea. Sub-Lieutenant Fordyce, keeping a tramp under observation, turned to the Quartermaster. "Starboard a couple of points, Quartermaster," he ordered. "I want to have a closer look at that ship. Dash it all," he soliloquized, "the old tub seems strangely familiar!" Evidently the vessel in question did not evince any desire to accept the submarine's advances, for she, too, altered helm. "What is it?" enquired the Lieutenant-Commander, who at that moment emerged from the conning-tower. "A tramp under Swedish colours, sir," reported the Sub. "Strange thing, she has a gun mounted for'ard. Unless I'm much mistaken we've met her before to-day." An order from the Lieutenant-Commander brought the guns' crews on deck. The for'ard quick-firers were raised from their "houses" and manned, while, increasing speed, R19 was soon within hailing distance. "What ship is that?" enquired the Hon. Derek in English. "_Ryan-Berg_, of Malmo," was the reply. "You our colour painted on side see." "I'm not blind--only sceptical," retorted the Lieutenant-Commander. "Heave-to; I'll send a boat." While the tramp was losing way the submarine flung about, taking up a position on the vessel's starboard quarter, and on a parallel course. On the bluff counter of the tramp appeared the words: "_Ryan-Berg_--Malmo", but at a short distance it was quite evident that the name was painted on a strip of canvas. "That's good enough, Mr. Fordyce," remarked the Hon. Derek grimly. "And what's more, sir," added the Sub, "she's an old friend, the _Talisman_, of Goole. She missed us at point-blank range on one occasion." "I recollect," agreed the Lieutenant-Commander, "and we pumped out a gallon of lubricating-oil just to encourage her misguided but praiseworthy skipper. Carry on, Mr. Fordyce." Quickly the boarding-party tumbled into the boat and rowed off to the tramp. Revolver in hand, Fordyce gained her deck, to be greeted by half a dozen Teutons in very motley garb. "The game's up," exclaimed Fordyce. "We are not bluffed by fresh paint and a canvas name-board." The prize crew were ordered below, while the former master and a dozen hands were released from captivity.