professional (as you remarked just now) have never been technical. So
I'll just tell you that the ship was of a very ornamental sort once,
with lots of grace and elegance and luxury about her. Yes, once! She
was like a pretty woman who had suddenly put on a suit of sackcloth and
stuck revolvers in her belt. But she floated lightly, she moved nimbly,
she was quite good enough."

"That was the opinion of the commanding officer?" said the voice from
the couch.

"It was. He used to be sent out with her along certain coasts to
see--what he could see. Just that. And sometimes he had some preliminary
information to help him, and sometimes he had not. And it was all one,
really. It was about as useful as information trying to convey the
locality and intentions of a cloud, of a phantom taking shape here and
there and impossible to seize, would have been.

"It was in the early days of the war. What at first used to amaze
the commanding officer was the unchanged face of the waters, with its
familiar expression, neither more friendly nor more hostile. On fine
days the sun strikes sparks upon the blue; here and there a peaceful
smudge of smoke hangs in the distance, and it is impossible to believe
that the familiar clear horizon traces the limit of one great circular
ambush.

"Yes, it is impossible to believe, till some day you see a ship not your
own ship (that isn't so impressive), but some ship in company, blow up
all of a sudden and plop under almost before you know what has happened
to her. Then you begin to believe. Henceforth you go out for the work
to see--what you can see, and you keep on at it with the conviction that