“And thus,” continued Manoel, “supposing the conditions continue favorable, and Torres did not live after he fell into the water, if the decomposition is not modified by circumstances which we cannot foresee, he will not reappear before three days.”
“We have not got three days,” answered Benito. “We cannot wait, you know; we must try again, and in some new way.”
“What can you do?” answered Manoel.
“Plunge down myself beneath the waters,” replied Benito, “and search with my eyes—with my hands.”
“Plunge in a hundred times—a thousand times!” exclaimed Manoel. “So be it. I think, like you, that we ought to go straight at what we want, and not struggle on with poles and drags like a blind man who only works by touch. I also think that we cannot wait three days. But to jump in, come up again, and go down again will give only a short period for the exploration. No; it will never do, and we shall only risk a second failure.”
“Have you no other plan to propose, Manoel?” asked Benito, looking earnestly at his friend.
“Well, listen. There is what would seem to be a Providential circumstance that may be of use to us.”
“What is that?”
“Yesterday, as we hurried through Manaos, I noticed that they were repairing one of the quays on the bank of the Rio Negro. The submarine works were being carried on with the aid of a diving-dress. Let us borrow, or hire, or buy, at any price, this apparatus, and then we may resume our researches under more favorable conditions.”
“Tell Araujo, Fragoso, and our men, and let us be off,” was the instant reply of Benito.