From that moment the watch on each vessel in the fleet was redoubled, and there was constant speculation, especially among the soldiers, as to whether another submarine would be sighted, and, if so, under what circumstances. They had now abandoned the zig-zagging course and were taking a direct route around the north of Ireland and toward the North Channel. On the following morning two additional destroyers bore down upon them from opposite points off the bow almost simultaneously, and as they came both code-telegraphed their identity. With these extra convoys it seemed indeed unlikely that a submarine would get near them, or, if it did, would attempt to do other than make its own safe escape. Fair Head, at the northeast corner of Ireland, gave them their first sight of land since they had left the shores of America; and for many of them this first glimpse of Erin's Isle brought with it the sentimental thrill of seeing the country where their parents had been born and spent their youth--for there was many a lad of Irish ancestry aboard the _Everett_. Rounding Fair Head without mishap or contact with a submarine, the danger from that source was practically over. The convoy was reduced to a cruiser and destroyer, and thus they laid a southeasterly course to what your old-time sailor would have described as "a piping breeze." They flanked the Isle of Man off its westward coast, and thence sped directly across the Irish Sea and into the harbor of Liverpool. Their arrival was unannounced. It was only one of many, and a thing to which the people of that and other cities of England and France had become quite accustomed. Nevertheless they welcomed the hosts of Uncle Sam in the warmest manner, and in every possible way showed the deep sense of appreciation and feeling of increased safety with which they viewed the arrival of more and more thousands of American troops in their land, on their way to the trenches of France to help conquer the common enemy. But there was not much time to be spent in Liverpool. Indeed, they had scarcely become accustomed to feeling their feet on solid ground again before the order to march was given, and they left the river front to go to the railroad station. There they received a plain but substantial meal, were inspected and admired by their British cousins, and then boarded the long troop train that already awaited them. "Take your seats, Yankees!" shouted the bearded conductor jovially, and the boys piled in. The details of that ride through England the boys from Brighton never will forget, although it was a long and tiring trip from Liverpool all the way to Dover, on the channel which separates England from the mainland of Europe. They crossed fair fields and beautiful streams that reminded them of their own native land, and came within view of giant ancient forests. They passed through cities and towns and again came out into the open country.