lead to no harbours. Wait! There's a little notch in the dyke at
Neuharlingersiel and Dornumersiel, which may mean some sort of a quay
arrangement, but what's the use of that?'

'We may as well visit one or two, I suppose?'

'I suppose so; but we don't want to be playing round villages.
There's heaps of really important work to do, farther out.'

'Well, what _do_ you make of this coast?'

Davies had nothing but the same old theory, but he urged it with a
force and keenness that impressed me more deeply than ever.

'Look at those islands!' he said. 'They're clearly the old line of
coast, hammered into breaches by the sea. The space behind them is
like an immense tidal harbour, thirty miles by five, and they screen
it impenetrably. It's absolutely _made_ for shallow war-boats under
skilled pilotage. They can nip in and out of the gaps, and dodge
about from end to end. On one side is the Ems, on the other the big
estuaries. It's a perfect base for torpedo-craft.'

I agreed (and agree still), but still I shrugged my shoulders.

'We go on exploring, then, in the same way?'

'Yes; keeping a sharp look-out, though. Remember, we shall always be
in sight of land now.'

'What's the glass doing?'