Every five minutes Jenkins altered the course, edging her gradually out to sea until the harbour was left about ten miles astern. Arrived there, the _Zero_ ran up and down parallel to the land, waiting for her foe to appear. Presently the signal boy lowered his glass sharply and reported, ‘“123” coming out, sir.’ Away over the entrance a small smudge showed up, which the glasses revealed as Raymond’s submarine doing her best on her gas engines. Her bridge-screen was down and all appeared to be ready for diving. ‘All right,’ said Jenkins, after carefully inspecting her. ‘Keep an eye on her and let me know when she dives.’ Up went the telescope again, while the _Zero_ continued her hurried beat. Then down came the glass, and ‘Diving, sir,’ the boy announced. Away over on the starboard hand ‘147,’ who had seen the red flag and knew its meaning, hauled up to the Northward to approach the harbour by a roundabout route and leave the Channel clear for her submerged sister. Not a sign of Raymond’s boat could now be seen, and the game of ‘touch’ began in earnest. The _Zero_ had to get back into harbour, while ‘123’ would exert every effort to torpedo her. It was like looking for a poisoned needle in a bundle of hay, and one realised what it is like when hostile submarines with real live torpedoes are in one’s vicinity. Then, it occurred to Jenkins, there was always the chance of something going seriously wrong with Raymond’s boat, and he might run her down unknowingly. Well, that was up to her captain, and he must look out for himself. Although he had given practice-attacks to many submarines, the Torpedo Boat captain could never overcome an uneasy feeling when his ‘enemy’ had dived. He couldn’t see them, they were away under water, and if the attack were not made as soon as he expected it, doubts would come over him as to whether all were well below. Was anything the matter, and ought he to stop, buoy the spot, and return to harbour and report it? Then when he was getting really anxious the submarine would rise or fire at him, and he would have to call himself a fool for his doubts and fears. He was getting over it now, but he still felt the anxiety if, for any reason, an attack were unusually prolonged. Standing now in a wing of the bridge with his binoculars glued to his eyes, he scanned every inch of the water within a two miles’ radius. On the other side Burton was similarly employed, and look-outs in all parts of the ship were doing their best with their naked eyes.