Then the back of a wave blots it out for a moment from the pale grey sky....
I wait, staring through the glass till my eyes ache....
There it is again, a dark line of smoke ... and there, there: a masthead, thin as a needle, yet I can see it through my glasses; and now ... my eyes are boring their way through the glasses ... that black thing over there just visible in the valley of the waves ... the smoke above it, four low funnels....
Good heavens! it is a destroyer!...
With one bound I spring into the conning-tower, close the hatch:
"Alarm!"
"Submerge quickly!"...
"Flood the tanks!"
"Diving rudder; eleven fathoms down."
The commands follow each other in rapid succession. But to carry them out is a different matter!