"Very well, sir."
"In the meantime," said Jack, "pick fifty men and set them ashore. We'll be there directly."
Lieutenant Hetherton saluted and left the cabin.
Half an hour later Jack led his men around the reef. There, a scant hundred yards from shore, lay the submarine. The little party moved silently to the edge of the water, and as silently embarked in the half a dozen small boats they found there.
"Push off!" Jack commanded in a whisper.
Now young Cutlip had been left behind, but the father had elected to go with the men in the boats. So earnest was his plea that Jack did not have the heart to refuse him.
A dim light showed on the bow of the submarine as the little flotilla approached; and then so suddenly that the night appeared to be lighted up by magic, a flare of white made the boats approaching the submarine as plain as day.
The submarine's searchlight had been turned on them.
"Down men," cried Jack.
The men, or those of them who were not needed at the oars, dropped to the bottom of the boats. But the distance was so close that those on board were able to make out the fact that the boats approaching were not filled with their own men.