spokes desperately, because, though we could not see the ships about us,
we could hear everywhere the alarm of their bells. We had run at eleven
knots into a bank of fog which seemed full of ships. The moon was
looking now over the top of the wall of fog, yet the _Windhover_, which,
with engines reversed, seemed to be going ahead with frightful velocity,
drove into an opacity in which there was nothing but the warning sounds
of a great fear of us. I imagined in the dark the loom of impending
bodies, and straining overside in an effort to make them out, listening
to the murmur of the stream, nervously fanned the fog with my hat in a
ridiculous effort to clear it. Twice across our bows perilous shadows
arose, sprinkled with stars, yet by some luck they drifted silently by
us, and the impact we expected and were braced for was not felt.

I don't know how long it was before the _Windhover_ lost way, but we
anchored at last, and our own bell began to ring. When our unseen
neighbours heard the humming of our exhaust, their frantic appeal
subsided, and only now and then they gave their bells a shaking, perhaps
to find whether we answered from the same place. There was an absolute
silence at last, as though all had crept stealthily away, having left us,
lost and solitary, in the fog. We felt confident there would be a
clearance soon, so but shrouded our navigation lights. But the rampart
of fog grew higher, veiled the moon, blotted it out, expunged the last
and highest star. We were imprisoned. We lay till morning, and there
was only the fog, and ourselves, and a bell-buoy somewhere which tolled
dolefully.

And morning was but a weak infiltration into our prison. A steadfast
inspection was necessary to mark even the dead water overside. The River
was the same colour as the fog. For a fortnight we had been without
rest. We had become used to a little home which was unstable, and