‘Took bottom in 12 fathoms, sir.’
‘All right. Veer out to 36 fathoms.’
‘Thirty-six fathoms, sir. Brought up.’
Seagrave reappeared from the depths, and took on the anchor watch. He and the look-out were to remain on till midnight, when Boyd and another seaman would relieve them.
‘Have you started a charge yet?’ asked Raymond, as he prepared to go below.
‘Yes, sir. 600 in parallel.’
‘That’ll do. Tell Boyd we’re getting under weigh at four o’clock, and if you see anything, she’s all ready for diving. Let me know at once, but if anything starts firing or stunting about dive at once on the weight, and we’ll cut the wire when we get down.’
‘Very good, sir. Good-night,’ and Seagrave was left to his own devices.
A dark night and a dead calm sea. Half a mile to the southward a black smudge showed where the Destroyer was anchored and the western horizon was filled with the low coast-line about three miles distant. Then the moon rose and a vigilant look-out was necessary in case any enemy raiders were on the prowl. Very still and silent, save for the lapping of the water round the pressure hull and the sound of the engines and the battery-fans that told that the charge was under weigh. Otherwise the boat was ready for diving. Her hatches were closed save for the conning-tower, and the compass-lid screwed down. The gyro repeater had been sent below and all unnecessary gear stowed away.
The two vessels swung to their anchors, and the moon climbed higher and higher, changing from red to orange and orange to silver as it cleared the mists of the horizon. Midnight came at last, and with it came Boyd who was to keep the middle watch.