The submarine, now weighing nearly the same as the amount of water she displaced, was ready for diving. That part of the operation was performed by means of the horizontal planes or rudders, trimming them to give the required angle of descent.
"Down to seventy feet, sir!" reported a voice, sounding hollow in the ribbed, vaulted space.
"Stand by—let go!"
With a subdued rattle the anchor, hitherto bedded underneath the fore-part of the hull, dropped to the bed of the North Sea, additional water ballast being admitted into the tanks of the vessel to compensate the loss of weight of the ground-tackle. Save for a faint pendulum-like motion as the submarine swayed to the tension on the bight of her cable, the craft lay calmly in twelve fathoms, for the time being safe from the perils of naval warfare.
Warm both externally and internally, Terence dropped to sleep in a comfortable bunk in the officers' part of the vessel. Three hours later he awoke, feeling much his former self, for the beneficial effects of the oxygen-charged atmosphere were as invigorating as the air on the summit of a lofty mountain.
The instant he awoke the circumstances which led to his being on board the submarine flashed across Aubyn's mind with vivid clearness. He contrasted his experiences with his regaining consciousness in Shotley Sick Quarters. There his brain worked slowly—it took considerable time for him to recall the events subsequent to the torpedoing of the ill-fated "Terrier." Here, owing possibly to the chemically charged atmosphere, his mind was as fresh as if he had awakened from a normal sleep.
The submarine was still at anchor. Beyond the purring of the dynamos for supplying the electric light there was no noise of machinery. Men were laughing and talking freely: he could hear Stairs' voice, holding forth with a vivacity that betokened no ill-effects from his voluntary immersion.
Terence sprang out of his bunk and began to dress. His own clothing, dried in the motor-room, was ready for him to put on. Just as he had completed his toilet a man of about thirty, dressed in the uniform of a lieutenant-commander, entered and introduced himself as Paul Maynebrace, captain of Submarine "E Something."
"Sorry we can't land you for a day or two," he remarked, after inquiring after Aubyn's state of health. "We're on observation duty, and are not due back at Harwich until noon on Thursday. However, we'll do our level best to make you comfortable. Of course, I suppose I am right in assuming that you haven't been on a submarine before? It will be something of a novelty to you, but we are getting used to it. Rather boring, in fact."
"Boring?" repeated Terence.