‘Group up. Astern both,’ came the order again.
For a moment there was still no result. Then suddenly she shook herself clear from the jamb, and rushed up to surface like an empty bottle. The depth-gauge in the control room was out of action, but the forward one was working again, and Boyd sang out the readings as the boat rose.
‘Stop both,’ cried Raymond. ‘Ahead both. Hard a dive. Flood the auxiliary.’
‘Gauge reading, sir,’ called Boyd, ‘100 feet, and coming up fast.’
‘Hold her, coxswain,’ said Raymond.
‘Ninety feet, sir. Eighty feet, seventy, sixty,’ called Boyd. ‘Still rising fast, sir.’
‘Can’t keep her down, sir,’ jerked the coxswain over his shoulder.
‘Damn!’ remarked Raymond. ‘She’s too light still. Flood the buoyancy.’
But the tank in question had just been blown at 68 lb. and had a big pressure in it. It filled but slowly, and Boyd’s voice continued monotonously from the fore compartment,—
‘Forty feet, sir. Thirty feet. Still coming up. Twenty feet, rising fast. Ten feet. Surface.’