‘Only the Count,’ explained the other. ‘That blessed twenty volt generator cut-out plays tricks every now and again,’ and he relapsed into slumber once more.
He was up again at eleven o’clock, however, and telling Raymond that the sun would cross the meridian at a quarter past.
The captain shook his head sadly.
‘It’s no good,’ he groaned. ‘I’ve done my best for you and you don’t get any better. I shall have to humour you or you may become dangerous. However, I’ll see what can be done,’ and he went to the periscope with the air of a doctor who knows the case is hopeless.
‘All right,’ he called from the control room. ‘We’ll rise for it. Too far off the land for bearings. Wake Seagrave. Diving stations!’
Once more the men stood at their posts, and the captain kept his eye at the periscope, while Seagrave superintended and Boyd stood by with his sextant ready.
‘Blow 2 and 3,’ came the order.
‘Open 2 and 3 Kingstons,’ cried Seagrave.
The levers were drawn back and there was a faint jar and a rush of compressed air as Hoskins opened the blows and the water was forced out of the tanks.
The depth-needle came slowly back to four feet and remained steady.