But once again we were lucky. At a height of five hundred feet the Vickers-Vimy emerged from the pall of cloud, and we saw the ocean--a restless surface of dull gray. Alcock at once opened up the throttles, and both motors responded. Evidently a short rest had been all that the starboard motor needed when it began to pop, for it now gave no further signs of trouble. I reached for the Drift Bearing Plate, and after observation on the ocean, found that we were moving on a course seventy-five degrees true, at one hundred and ten knots ground speed with a wind of thirty knots from the direction of two hundred and fifteen degrees true. I had been reckoning on a course of seventy-seven degrees true, with calculations based on our midnight position; so that evidently we were north of the prescribed track. Still, we were not so far north as to miss Ireland, which fact was all that mattered to any extent. In my correction of the compass bearing, I could only guess at the time when the wind had veered from its earlier direction. I made the assumption that the northerly drift had existed ever since my sighting on the Pole Star and Vega during the night, and I reckoned that our position at eight o'clock would consequently be about fifty-four degrees N. latitude, ten degrees thirty min. W. longitude. Taking these figures, and with the help of the navigation machine, which rested on my knees, I calculated that our course to Galway was about one hundred and twenty-five degrees true. Allowing for variation and wind I therefore set a compass course of one hundred and seventy degrees, and indicated to the pilot the necessary change in direction by means of the following note and diagram: [Illustration: "_Make course_ "_Don't be afraid of going S. We have had too much N. already._"] Alcock nodded and ruddered the Vickers-Vimy around gently, until its compass showed a reading of 170 degrees. My calculations, if correct, proved that we were quite close to Ireland and journey's end. As we flew eastward, just below the lowest clouds and from two hundred to three hundred feet above the sea, we strained our eyes for a break in the monotonous vista of gray waves; but we could find not even a ship. Although neither of us felt hungry, we decided to breakfast at eight o'clock, partly to kill time and partly to take our minds from the rising excitement induced by the hope that we might sight land at any instant. I placed a sandwich, followed by some chocolate, in Alcock's left hand. His right hand remained always on the control lever and his feet on the rudder bar.