"The deuce!" he muttered. "Try another. Here's the direction."
Furiously he swore as the men guided the submarine and loaded another torpedo into a tube. As the tube came into position, they let the torpedo go. An instant later it was hissing its way at us.
"See, there's another!" I cried, catching sight of it.
All looked. Sure enough, through the water could be seen another of those murderous messengers dashing at us.
Arnold ran forward and seized the wheel himself, swinging the boat around hard to starboard and the land. We turned just in time. The torpedo, brainless but deadly, dashed past us harmlessly.
As fast as we could now we made for the shore. No one could catch us with such a start, not even the swiftest torpedo. We had been rescued by Arnold's quick wit from a most desperate situation.
Somewhere below the water, I could imagine a man consumed with fury over our escape, as the periscope disappeared and the submarine made off.
We were safe. But, looking out over the water, we could not help shuddering at the perils beneath its apparently peaceful surface.