“Begorra, it’s the foinest spot on earth!” cried the Celt. “May we live to return to dear old Radestown!”
“Golly! I done fink dat we mus’ do dat,” averred Pomp. “Dis chile neber gwine to leabe his bones in no oder place!”
“Don’t yez be too shure, naygur,” declared Barney, shaking his head. “Shure, it’s many a close call we’ll be afther havin’ yit, me lad. There’s no spendin’ a year or more at the bottom av the say widout some bit av a risk.”
“You are right, Barney,” said the explorer, Stanhope; “but we are going to look upon the bright side of this thing. We shall sail the North Pacific, capture the silver whale, return and see old America again in safety. Mark my prophecy.”
“I hope you have hit it right, George,” laughed Frank; “at least you are right in looking on the bright side.”
So the submarine voyagers left home in quite a cheerful frame of mind.
But they little dreamed of the thrilling experiences which the near future held.
They had no means of guessing the terrible perils through which they were to pass.
A voyage under the sea can scarcely be attended by aught but danger and risk.
Readestown was soon left out of sight.