By this time he was convinced that he was on the losing side. Almost every officer in the German Submarine Service had the same opinion, although individually they were loth to admit it. The men, too, knew that the U-boat campaign was a failure, but, unlike their officers, they discussed the matter amongst themselves and thought that it was quite about time they had a say in the business. For a full forty minutes von Preugfeld paced the limited expanse of steel platform that comprised the U-boat's deck, until a faint whistle like the call of a curlew was borne to his ears. Ordering a couple of hands on deck, the ober-leutnant gave the pre-arranged reply. For another five minutes the interchange of signals continued as the dinghy, baffled by the fog, endeavoured to find her way back to her parent ship. Presently the black outlines of the little boat loomed through the moonlit mist. The bowman threw the painter, and von Loringhoven clambered on board. "This confounded fog!" he exclaimed. "I have not seen a worse one even off the Friesland shore." "And von Preussen?" asked the kapitan laconically. "We landed him safely, Herr Kapitan," replied the unter-leutnant. "There was no one about. The actual business of setting him ashore was simple. We are to look out for him at the same place at midnight on the first of next month, I believe?" "That is so," assented von Preugfeld. "That is, if we are still alive," he added, speaking to himself. "If what, Kerr Kapitan?" asked his subordinate anxiously. "Nothing," rejoined the other gruffly. "Now, to your post, von Loringhoven. We have a tricky piece of navigation in front of us if we are to arrive off Aberspey by midnight." Thanks to his intimate knowledge of the coasts of Great Britain, von Preugfeld was able to take the intricate inner passage round St. Rollox Head. He did not expect to find any patrols in that waterway on a foggy night, and his anticipations were well founded. Running awash and at full speed, U 247 literally scraped past the outlying rocks, the thresh of her propellers being deadened by the constant roar of the surf upon the far-flung ledges that thrust themselves seaward from the bold headland. Through a winding channel barely a hundred yards in width, beset with dangers on either hand and swept by furious currents and counter-eddies, the U-boat held steadily onwards, until with a grunt of relief von Preugfeld "handed over" to his subordinate. "We're through," he observed. "Now keep her south by west at nine knots. Call me in twenty minutes." At the expiration of the given time the kapitan went on deck and ordered the leadsman to sound. Very slowly the U-boat held on, until through a rift in the fog the look-out sighted a green buoy on the starboard hand. "That is what I was looking for," remarked von Preugfeld to the unter-leutnant. "It's a wreck-buoy placed there as a monument to our achievement last March. You remember?" "The _Camperdown Castle_, Herr Kapitan?"