"And what did you say to that?" asked the Lieutenant-Commander.
"I couldn't choke him off on my own responsibility," answered Mr. Macquare.
The Hon. Derek pondered for a few moments. In the interests of all on board the recreant's information might be of enormous value. Then he shook his head.
"I'll turn it down, Macquare. If we are to win through it will be off our own bat. Unless the steamer track has been altered recently we stand a fighting chance. Tonight's the night, Mr. Macquare."
Taking elaborate cross-bearings while daylight lasted, R19 sounded, remaining at the bottom until midnight. On reappearing on the surface the submarine, ready for diving at ten seconds' notice, forged softly ahead, conned by the Lieutenant-Commander and Fordyce from the platform without the conning-tower.
It was hardly an ideal night for the undertaking. A thick haze enveloped everything beyond a radius of fifty yards. Even the bows of the vessel were indistinguishable from the mingling blur of the sea and fog. A slightly longer range of visibility would have been better, as the submarine would have been able to spot and avoid the more conspicuous outlines of a patrol-boat or destroyer before the latter could sight the low-lying hull of her foe.
It was an intricate piece of navigation by dead reckoning and of the "hit or miss" order. From the after-end of the navigation platform trailed a log-line, the movements of the luminous hand on the dial being carefully watched by Petty Officer Chalmers. As an additional precaution, the striking-gong of the recording mechanism had been silenced.
The log gave the "distance run", the reading being checked by independent calculations based upon the revolutions of the propellers. For directing, R19 had to depend solely upon a compass course, since the mist made it impossible to pick up shore bearings, even if these were visible at night.
After an hour of high-tensioned suspense the Sub made his way aft to the Petty Officer at the log indicator.
"How goes it?" he whispered.