Not for an instant did Eva cease her efforts at the pump. But she shrieked with terror again and again. Now, to add to that terror, the pressure on the air-pump suddenly ceased. From the depths myriads of bubbles of air arose.
Knife in hand, the emissary leaped aboard and came toward her. Automatically, frantically, she still turned the useless pump, while with her free arm she tried to ward off the poised knife.
Again her shriek for help echoed across the water—and this time her call was answered.
Had she gone mad? The voice that answered her was the voice of the man she loved. Her brain reeled and she fell at the feet of the murderous thug.
Other cries, then shouts were now heard, for some fisher folk were putting out off shore to discover what all the tumult was about.
The Automaton made a hasty gesture to the emissary, who sprang back from his victim and leaped to his own launch, where, with his assistance, there was barely time to haul aboard the chief thug, who had been sent below to attack Locke. The launch cast off and with ever-increasing speed headed down the river.
Locke was the first to arrive and climb over the side of the boat. Dripping though he was, he took Eva in his arms and bathed her face, while by this time other craft arrived and friendly hands did all they could to care for them both.
It was some minutes before Eva was restored and all headed again to the shore, eager to help Locke.
As he assisted Eva to land, and they waited for a carriage, Locke hastily offered a boatman a liberal reward for the discovery of the precious diving-suit, for it had been his intention to present the patent to the government.
Meanwhile some strange things had happened. Paul and his father had quarreled over money, over De Luxe Dora, over Paul's manner of life and his ill luck in winning Eva's affections.