We were now getting near the mouth of the bay. The sea was studded all over with little islands and rocks, some of which projected only a couple of feet out of the water. One of the larger islands aroused our interest. At the foot of the massive, rocky wall there was a semicircular opening of natural formation so big that a sailing-boat could comfortably go through to the far side. Unfortunately, the chart showed so many shallows between these islands that I felt bound, under the circumstances, to take the longer course round the outlying islands, a proceeding which, at any rate, gave me more freedom of movement. And that was at the moment more important than ever, for it was inconceivable that the captain of the wireless boat, after giving up the hopeless chase, would sit down and do nothing. So we were not particularly pleased when we noticed a lighthouse with signalling station and wireless installation facing the sea on Dunmore Island, the last island on the south side of the bay. Without doubt these people already knew all about our flight. Fortunately for us, however, they were unarmed, so that we had to reckon only with the fact that they would watch us and report every alteration of our course to the nearest coastguard stations and ships. The Atlantic now lay before us, and I had the choice of steering north, west, or south. South appeared to me to be the best, for even if we had aroused suspicion the English had so far had no positive proof against us. The Norwegian flag still flew at our stern, and as I had told the captain of the _Shatter_ that we were bound for Cardiff and then for Italy, I thought it was best to keep up appearances while it was still daylight, and to steer a southerly course. If a warship should then come along we should be able to justify our course by means of our manifest. Then, when it got dark, I intended to turn westwards in order to get away from the patrolled coastal area. CHAPTER XX THE 'PHANTOM SHIP' IN A TRAP At the mouth of Tralee Bay we met a stiff north wind, and here and there the waves were topped with foam. A couple of small steamers deeply laden were crawling along northwards, hugging the coast, for they were too much afraid of the German submarines to venture out on the open sea. The second one was a Norwegian--'like ourselves.' The name was, on account of the distance, unreadable, but the shape of the vessel was devilishly like that of the _Aud_. I wonder if this was the real _Aud_, which was due back from the Mediterranean just about this time. It would have been a nice _rencontre_ for us. Unfortunately, I was unable even afterwards to ascertain the facts. The only information about our double that reached me was a newspaper article some months later which stated that the Norwegian steamer _Aud_, from Bergen, had been torpedoed and sunk on the 2nd of October of the same year.