It did not take me long to decide that the neighborhood of the Dogger Bank was the most likely place, in fact the only place, for my search.
I am not wholly unskilled in navigation, having given up a good deal of my spare time to yachting. With the aid of a chart which was on board, I had little difficulty in keeping a fairly straight course for the famous fishing ground.
On the way I did not neglect the opportunity of acquiring a complete command over the movements of the submarine.
It was driven by electricity, and so designed that by means of various knobs, one man could control it entirely, steering it, raising or lowering it in the water, increasing or slackening speed, stopping, backing, and even discharging the torpedo which was its only weapon of attack—with the exception of a small sharp ram at the bow.
Having asserted my authority, and acquired the practical knowledge I needed, I at last called Orloff to me, and gave him the wheel.
“Take me to the Dogger Bank. Warn me as soon as we get near any fishing-boats, and above all keep a careful lookout for our consort.”
It was by this name that I thought it most prudent to refer to the object of my search.
Orloff took the wheel, and said immediately with an air of great respect,
“You have laid a marvelously straight course, Captain. I was not aware that you were familiar with these waters. The Dogger Bank is right ahead, and we shall reach it in less than an hour.”
An hour later I was conscious of a light shock as the submarine stopped.