A delusive hope assailed me that some accident might have overtaken it. But I did not relax my vigilance, and when night fell I took up a station about a mile in front of the English smacks, in the direction from which I had reason to expect the approach of Rojestvensky.
A few hours elapsed, then my watchfulness was rewarded.
Away down on the horizon toward the northeast, there glittered out a row of twinkling lights, one behind the other, as though a lamp-lit thoroughfare had got afloat and drifted out to sea.
The sinuous streak of lights, shifting as they approached like the coils of some great water-snake, glided toward us at what seemed a fearful speed, and as they drew near the white lights were interspread with green and crimson points, like rubies and emeralds set between rows of diamonds. And ever and anon the swift electric tongues of the search-lights spat forth and licked the dark face of the waters like hungry things.
Keeping my upper deck just awash, I lay still and beheld at last the great black sides of the battleships tower up, pierced with illuminated windows.
My heart began to throb wildly. If only the other submarine failed to appear; if only the English fishermen would realize their danger and flee in time, disaster might be averted.
The hope had scarcely formed itself in my mind when Orloff, who had come to repose confidence in me, respectfully touched my arm and pointed ahead.
Not two hundred yards from me, stealing along about a mile in advance of the Russian fleet, I perceived a small dark object, showing hardly a foot above the surface of the waves.
It was the rival submarine!