"There is something wrong with our lamps."
"Who are you? Where is Talik?"
"He is invalided. I am taking his place. Are you coming up?"
"Yes. Why isn't Major Wonckhaus here?"
"He'll be here directly."
"Well, switch on the light: what are you waiting for?"
"The switch is broken." Frank referred to the switch of an electric lamp at the top of the crane. "You must come up in the dark. Look out! The chain is running out."
The engine had started, and the chain was swinging down over the arm of the crane. The commander of the submarine caught it, set his foot in the loop provided, and was hauled slowly up, and swung inward towards the huts. Meanwhile the men in waiting had removed the blanket from the pile of cases, and the moment the commander's feet touched the ground he was muffled closely in the blanket, and carried struggling into a hut, where his captors had materials ready for securing him.
"Good man!" murmured the lieutenant-commander, clapping Frank on the back. "With him out of the way all's well, I think. Now, I'll take up the running.--Look alive with those cases," he added, still in a low tone, addressing the seamen who were attaching the massed cases to the end of the chain. The crane swung out, and the weighty mass dangled directly over the submarine, on whose deck the crew could be dimly seen, gazing up in surprise: surely they were not to take in ammunition at this hour of the night. How much greater was their astonishment when they heard from above a ringing voice in English.
"Below there! Any of you speak English?"