They carefully fastened on his dress, but when Bethune gave him a few instructions he said his own man had told him all he needed to know during the voyage. Jimmy put on his helmet and went first down the ladder, waiting at the bottom for Clay. It was, he felt, a strange experience to be walking along the sea-floor with a man who had been his enemy; but he was now master of the situation. Indeed, he had to help his companion when they reached the entrance to the hold and he did not think that Clay could have crept up the dark passage between the shaft tunnel and the hanging weed on the ship’s crushed side without his assistance. Their lamps glimmered feebly through the water that sucked in and out, and it was no easy matter to keep signal-lines and air-pipes clear. Clay, however, though awkward and somewhat feeble in his movements, showed no want of nerve.
When they crawled into the strong-room he stood still, moving his lamp. The pale flashes wavered to and fro, searching the rough, iron-bound planks, until they stopped, fixed upon one spot. Clay beckoned Jimmy toward it, and then, losing his balance, lurched and swayed in a ludicrous manner before he could steady himself. Jimmy thought the man must be mistaken, for he had indicated a plank in the deck between two iron plates, although, as the wreck had fallen over, the plank was on one side of them, instead of being overhead. He turned to Clay with a questioning motion of his hands, but the flicker of light was still fixed upon the same spot. Jimmy raised the crowbar he had brought and drove it into a joint nearly level with his head, and Clay indicated that he was doing right.
Jimmy knew that he had no time to lose. Clay was not in good health, and had already been under water as long as was safe for a man unaccustomed to the pressure. If he broke down, it would be difficult to get him out of the hold. For all that, Jimmy was reluctant to abandon the search a moment before it was necessary. It was getting dark, the stream was gaining strength, and it did not seem probable that any one could get down again that night. Jimmy wanted to finish his task.
The beam he attacked was soft, but two bolts ran through it and an iron strap was clamped along its edge. The rotten timber tore away in flakes, but Jimmy could not break out a large piece, and the iron fastenings deflected his bar. He glanced at his companion, who encouraged him by a gesture; and then fell to work again with determined energy. He did not know how long he continued, but he was disturbed by a movement of the water and saw Clay swaying slackly to and fro. It looked as if he were about to fall, but his heavy boots and buoyant dress kept him upright. Still he might go down, and Jimmy knew that it is hard to recover one’s balance in a diving dress. Clay must be got out at once. Jimmy seized his arm and made his way toward the opening, thrusting his companion along the side of the shaft tunnel.
It was with keen relief that he dragged him clear of the splintered beams at the entrance to the hold and stepped out on the level bottom of the sea. No light came down through the water, even the shadow of the sloop above was no longer discernible; but Jimmy had his signal-line for guide and followed it with his hand on Clay’s shoulder, until he distinguished the ripple of the tide about the ladder.
Pushing his companion toward it, he watched his clumsy ascent and then clambered up. When he got on board Clay was sitting on deck, but he sank back limply against the cabin top as they took his helmet off. It was nearly dark, but they could see that his lips were blue, and that his livid face was mottled by faint purple patches. He gasped once or twice, and then began to fumble awkwardly at the breast of the diving dress.
“I know what he wants!” cried Aynsley. “Get these things off him as quick as you can! Somebody bring me a spoon!”
They hurriedly stripped the canvas covering from the half-conscious man, and, taking a small bottle from his vest pocket, gave him a few drops of the liquid. It took effect, for in a few moments Clay feebly raised himself.
“Better now; not used to diving,” he said, and turned to Jimmy as Aynsley and a seaman helped him into the waiting gig. “We’ll get the case next time.”
The gig pulled away, and the three men watched it disappear into the darkness.