If an opportunity offered I intended to ram the _Bluebell_ or one of her consorts, and then blow up the ship, so that we should not go down alone. But it looked almost as if the English scented my plan, for they kept at a respectful distance and instantly turned away whenever I altered course even for a moment--a proof that they kept a jolly good look-out. CHAPTER XXII THE SINKING OF THE 'LIBAU' It was long past midnight. The moon was fairly high and it was a beautifully clear and calm night. Under ordinary circumstances one could not have wished for a better. Thousands and thousands of stars twinkled in the sky, and there was not a wisp of cloud to dim their glittering light. The sea was almost as smooth as glass, except when a gentle breeze momentarily ruffled its surface. The silence of this peaceful night was broken only by an occasional subdued word of command or a whistle on the escorting vessels, which unceasingly circled round us like sheep dogs round their flock. With their sharp bows they tore deep furrows, which, resolving into numberless wavelets, grew ever broader and strewed the surface with millions of glittering silver specks. From time to time one heard also louder orders from the various engine-rooms and stoke-holds, followed by the slamming of furnace-doors and the rattle of shovels. And then, a few moments later, the thick smoke-clouds that issued from the funnels of the dark-gray monsters showed that the enemy was not asleep. More and more numerous became the lights of passing ships, which, far to the north of us, were making for their destination safe in the shelter of the coast. And many ships without lights also met us or crossed our course. These were English patrol-ships and destroyers steaming without lights in order to escape the observation of German submarines which had recently been very active round the south coast of Ireland, causing terror and damage to all who had a bad conscience.