“I’ll be along later,” he said.
He closed the cap, and shoved the torpedo into the tube. During the past two days, he had been studying the projection of torpedoes from submarines, from textbooks which the professor had marked for him. He recognized the mechanism of this tube.
Harry hung close to the wall and gripped the apparatus. He released the torpedo; it was discharged from the tube.
Arlette was off on her journey!
HARRY was forced to swim as he made his way back to the steps. By standing on the uppermost place, he could last a little longer.
He watched the gaining flood, as it seemed to swirl upward. He was in the highest possible position; yet it was coming almost to his shoulders.
He knew that he must meet death alone; but he was willing. He had saved Arlette.
It was impossible for him to leave by the same route. He could not have entered a torpedo and also have discharged it. So he must die alone — here beneath the surface of Death Island — unless — unless -
The water was up to his neck. He could see it swirl on the level with his eyes. It still continued to swirl, but it rose no more.
There was a clicking behind him. Some one was again working at the steel door. Harry tried to tap a message, but his hands were numb, and his efforts were feeble.