The boys were on the upper deck and watched the scene with admiration. Before the cruiser had proceeded far the smoke of more than a dozen ships were visible, and the boys could not help but be impressed at the tremendous power of the Allies on the water, notwithstanding the calamity which had just befallen their ship. After all, the ships had been sunk by an enemy which dared not show his face above the surface of the water. "Submarine sunk near the harbor of Brest and one off Cherburg," was the startling announcement of the wireless operator. "Five American ships have arrived at the Loire," was another message. "America is aflame with excitement, and demands action," came later. "Is it possible that the United States will go to war?" asked Ralph. "The United States is now at war," replied the captain. "What? do you mean to say that the President has declared war?" asked Alfred in astonishment. "No; it is not necessary that America should declare war. Germany has done so by torpedoing your ships, and killing your citizens; that is an act of war; for every nation, and Germany itself, knows that its submarine war is illegal, and without any standing in International Law. It is no justification to say that to give notice makes it legal. If a man wished to commit murder it would not make him less a murderer if he had given notice of his intention beforehand," said the captain. "Then I'm not going back to New York," said Alfred. "Nor I; we've been in it from the first, and we might as well stick it out;--if I only knew that mother was safe," concluded Ralph with a shadow across his face. Within an hour the boys saw a faint streak of peculiar gray to the left, far ahead. "That must be land," said Alfred. "And that looks like a town, away in the distance," remarked Ralph. "You are right; that is the coast of France, and the houses you see belong to the town of Fecamp, a seaport and watering place, 22 miles from Havre," said the navigating officer. Every minute brought them nearer the city of Havre. How they longed to hear some news of their parents, now that all excitement had died away, and they were permitted to think of home and those dear to them. Vessels began to accumulate on all sides of them, indications that they were now within the safety zone. For a period of eight days they had not known what absolute quiet and rest meant. First, the terrible suspense within the hull of a submarine, the trying experience attending the capture of the vessel, the unquiet feeling that they had desperate men below who might do anything to gain their liberty, the explosion and sinking of the submarine, their rescue, and then the last sinking, seemed to form a chapter of misadventures which constantly kept them on the alert. It was such a different feeling now, and, as such things generally do, caused a reaction. They actually felt ill, and Alfred, especially, after the last accident, felt too weak to remain on deck.