and majestically, with impressive dignity. Julio counted eighteen. They
appeared to fill the ocean. It was the Channel Fleet which had just left
the English coast by Government order, sailing around simply to show
its strength. Seeing this procession of dreadnoughts for the first
time, Desnoyers was reminded of a flock of marine monsters, and gained
a better idea of the British power. The German ship passed among them,
shrinking, humiliated, quickening its speed. "One might suppose," mused
the youth, "that she had an uneasy conscience and wished to scud to
safety." A South American passenger near him was jesting with one of
the Germans, "What if they have already declared war! . . . What if they
should make us prisoners!"

After midday, they entered Southampton roads. The Frederic August
hurried to get away as soon as possible, and transacted business with
dizzying celerity. The cargo of passengers and baggage was enormous.
Two launches approached the transatlantic and discharged an avalanche of
Germans residents in England who invaded the decks with the joy of those
who tread friendly soil, desiring to see Hamburg as soon as possible.
Then the boat sailed through the Channel with a speed most unusual in
these places.

The people, leaning on the railing, were commenting on the extraordinary
encounters in this marine boulevard, usually frequented by ships of
peace. Certain smoke lines on the horizon were from the French squadron
carrying President Poincare who was returning from Russia. The European
alarm had interrupted his trip. Then they saw more English vessels
patrolling the coast line like aggressive and vigilant dogs. Two North
American battleships could be distinguished by their mast-heads in the
form of baskets. Then a Russian battleship, white and glistening, passed
at full steam on its way to the Baltic. "Bad!" said the South American