A man stood in the steel doorway of the clumsy tower which supported a pair of periscopes. The vessel was an early type of submarine. It was crude in finish and severe in fashion. Its flush deck was narrow, and a mere rail protected its sides. His attention seemed divided between a group of men in oilskins engaged in launching a motor pinnace, and the movements of a war-craft standing off some distance astern. Night was closing upon an oily sea, which lolled in listless fashion beneath the starry sheen of a now almost windless evening. The threatened "northeaster" which had been developing all the afternoon had suddenly died out under the influence of a sharp frost. There was a certain satisfaction in the luck of the weather. This man knew quite well what he might have been called upon to face on the bitter northeast coast of Britain. The stone-grey eyes of the man were no less keen than the bitter air. Nor were they less watchful than the peeping stars already beginning to stud the sky. The rest of his face was lost in the folds of a woollen scarf, which was in turn enveloped in the high collar of his overcoat. There was the sound of footsteps behind him coming up the steel companion, and in a moment he was joined by a man in oilskins. The latter were carelessly adjusted about the neck, and from beneath them peeped the details of a uniform which was foreign to the coast off which the vessel was lying. The newcomer joined in the survey of the war-craft's dim outline against the horizon. "She's not there by chance, Excellency," he said warningly, in the deep guttural of the Teutonic language. For some moments the other made no reply. His eyes were upon the men at work. The boat was launched, and the engine was being started. "No," he said at last. Then his eyes came sharply to the other's face. "You have had to take big chances in your time. You've got to take a greater chance now. This is not war." "No, Excellency. This is peace." The man laughed deep-throatedly. "That is why the warship does not matter. She will not break the peace, and we are beyond the home-water limit. We are free to do as we please." "And yet she is watching us. It interests me what she intends. These British naval men are a different race from those ashore. They will do as they think, in spite of--peace." "Yes." There was a speculative look in the stone-grey eyes. Finally he gave his whole attention to the men on the deck. He seemed to have put all speculation aside. "Von Hertzwohl's submersible will soon be along now. We shall see her lights. She will carry lights. She must do so for the shore boat. You have your orders."