They gripped hands tenderly for the space of a few seconds; then, without another word, Lord Hastings relaxed his pressure and stepped to the tube. Jack assisted him, and then called out:
“Ready?”
“Ready,” came the reply. “Goodbye, Jack.”
The last words were lost in the click of the torpedo and Jack was left alone.
He walked to his own cabin and sat down upon his bed. Then, rising, he approached the table and ran his fingers over its edge, counting the notches.
“Fifteen,” he said to himself. “Well, that’s not so bad. Now, I wonder how long I shall have to wait.”
He drew his revolver from his pocket and looked at it long and earnestly.
“No,” he said aloud, and thrust it back into his pocket.
Then he sat down to await the moment when the D-16 must split open as the result of the death blow she had received.
When Jack released the catch that sent Frank flying into space, the lad’s breath was taken away by the force of his upward flight; but a moment later he felt himself upon the surface of the sea and cooling draughts filled his lungs. Sputtering and gasping he inhaled great breaths, and then, mindful of Jack’s injunction, he set about keeping himself afloat.