All day long we sailed by Ireland and she seemed strangely peaceful and quiet. Perhaps it was the great contrast with the sea, the wide tumbling waste of waters that, night and day, was always restless; or perhaps it was a benediction resting over the whole country. Anyhow it seemed that way to me as often as my eyes rested on the hills and fields of holy Ireland. Since that morning I have seen many different countries. I have come back to my own land over the same great distance of waters, and it was in the early morning that I saw it first, yet that strange spiritual peace that seemed to rest over Ireland was decidedly lacking. That early morning scene still comes back to me; and all through the day, whenever my eyes rested on the hills of Ireland, I felt that I was making a meditation and that I was being lifted in spirit far above the little things that bother one here below.
Down below us on the water, with the swiftness almost of swallows, darted here and there the long grey anti-submarine boats. Seven or eight of them had come to meet us. Later on in the day appeared the mine sweepers, low short steam boats painted for the most part red, and carrying one yard sails. The sails were of dark brownish-red color. They worked in pairs.