He scrambled to his feet a free man; for a moment he was undecided how to act.
His impulse was to get out of the cabin of the galleon; but how could this be done?
The hatch had been battened down by the Aurelian’s divers when they went away. Could he hope to break it open? He could at least try.
He ascended the stairs and dealt the hatch a blow. Joy! it yielded, and with a great effort he forced it open.
He pushed away the sand and emerged at last from the prison he had occupied so long.
He examined his generator.
There were chemicals enough in it to last full forty-eight hours longer.
“Perhaps by that time they will return for me,” he reflected. “At least I will cling to hope.”
He looked about him.
There was no sign of the submarine boat or of the Aurelian’s men in the vicinity. He was in a quandary as to what to do.