“Well, we’ll have to run on a ways. When we are from beneath the berg, we shall try again to get to the surface.”
He gave the signal for ten knots ahead.
The D-17 had passed through the Kiel Canal without difficulty, in spite of the German belief that such a feat was impossible; and this German belief persisted in spite of the fact that Lord Hastings and his two young officers had performed such a feat once before—and the Germans were aware of it. Apparently, however, the enemy was confident a second attempt would never be made.
It was a long time ago now that the perilous trip had been made, but all three remembered it well. They had spoken of it often as the submarine made its way along slowly, a keen lookout being kept forward for mines or other obstructions.
Half an hour later Lord Hastings decided that the D-17 must have passed from under the iceberg, or whatever it was that had barred the vessel’s attempt to come to the surface.
“We’ll try it again, now,” he said briefly.
In response to his commands the pumps began to work very slowly, for Lord Hastings had no mind to crash into an obstruction with the same force as before.
“The vessel might stand it and it might not,” he explained as his reason for his caution. “There is no need testing the strength of our shell unless absolutely necessary.”
“Don’t you think she could force her way through, sir?” asked Jack.
“It all depends,” was his commander’s rejoinder. “It depends upon the thickness of the ice above.”