As he expected, from half-a-dozen weed masses out darted as many sharks, to make a dash at the stone as it descended rapidly through the clear water, and first one and then another turned over to show its white under-parts before going away sulkily and in disgust.
“Well, what did you see?” said Dutch.
“Sharks! Ugh, the beasts!” exclaimed Mr Parkley, with a shudder.
“What else?”
“Rough stumps of timber amongst the weeds.”
“Timbers of the old galleon, no doubt, preserved by the shelly concretions that have formed upon them and held them together.”
“But it’s impossible, my dear boy. No man dare go down there; the sharks would rend him limb from limb. Who could go down?”
“I shall, for one,” said Dutch, calmly. “So now let’s get on board.”
They climbed the side, and, as the news of their discovery spread through the ship, the excitement became great. Rasp began to bring up helmets and leaden weights, and ordered a couple of the men to come and assist with the air-pump, which had to be got up from below.
“But, my dear Dutch,” exclaimed Mr Parkley, in despair, “it is impossible—no one can go down.”