If only, I thought to myself, there isn't something behind it. The business began to look queer. Why did the English never ask us, as they were in duty bound to do, where we were from and where we were bound for? Why did they snuff round us on all sides as one dog does to another? Did they want to lull us into a false security? And yet, so far as I could see, a betrayal of our enterprise was absolutely out of the question.[10] I believed then, and have since confirmed my impression that they let us pass in all innocence. And that was a brilliant feat even for Englishmen. FOOTNOTE: [10] So far as an actual betrayal is concerned, the author is probably right; but it appears from the evidence published in the _Times_ of the 25th of May, 1918, that some of Count Bernstorff's messages dealing with the preparations for this expedition had been intercepted. CHAPTER XV PLANS AND DREAMS As the barometer had come down with a run two days before, so now it went up with a run, till it stood in the neighbourhood of the two words that every seaman reads with satisfaction, 'Set Fair.' The sun shone brilliantly, a light north-westerly breeze played on the water. The touch of spring, the contrast with our late experiences, brought us all into the highest spirits. To-morrow the die would be cast, our fate decided. Why should we not be gay? I held a council with my officers to discuss the plans for the next day. We decided to alter our appearance during the night, by carrying from the charthouse to the engine-room skylight a funnel-casing six feet high, made out of wood and canvas, and painted the same colour as the deck-houses. If any photographs had been taken of us, it would then not be easy to recognise us by them. I intended also, the next morning, to paint out the flags and the name on our side with black paint, and have the funnel and ventilators painted yellow. I had decided to proceed in under the Spanish flag. An appropriate funnel marking was looked up. Supposing that we had really been betrayed, or had been reported by an auxiliary cruiser, that would at least delay discovery. If we got through unmolested, and the Irish were at the rendezvous punctually, the landing of arms _must_ succeed. At this point we badly felt the want of W.T. apparatus. How useful it would have been if we could have got into communication with Tralee and asked 'if the coast was clear.'[11] I had been concerned to read in the _Berliner Zeitung_ just before leaving, that there had been violent disorders in Dublin, and that martial law had been proclaimed both over the city and the whole of the east coast.