Full Excerpt

To-night this little Spanish jitney steamer is eleven days from New York and twelve hours— perhaps—from her home port of Cadiz, just outside of the Strait of Gibraltar. Since we passed the Azores three days ago we have been steering a curved course; but for that we should have reached port already. Approaching the Strait of Gibraltar is dangerous just now, even for a strictly neutral ship. Between the Pillars of Hercules the German mine-laying submarines are busy, and the currents carry the mines out into the broad Atlantic. For that reason we steered north; and just after sunset this evening a flashing light announced our approach to the Spanish Coast. We have been hugging the three-mile limit ever since, and across the severe shore, which we can make out in the beams of a new moon, comes the distant gleam of town lights. The ship’s rumors, which

1 A REPORTER AT ARMAGEDDON

always break out on the last night of these wartime journeys, have been especially prevalent and startling this evening. One has it that we shall be stopped by a French cruiser early to-morrow morning and searched for German subjects. It is said also ...