"Got a hand-spike there?" he asked.
"Ay, ay, sir," replied one of the carpenter's crew who had just arrived on the scene. "And some stoppers as well."
Two of the men plunged into the flooded magazine. The hand-spike was applied to the temporary plug until it was forced into the gap.
"That'll hold, sir," announced one of the men confidently.
"Let's hope so," replied the sub. Then to himself he muttered, "And my very best pilot coat."
For another ten minutes Aubyn stood and shivered, till one of the men felt the sub.'s numbed hand shaking as he assisted to hold the hand-spike.
"Leak's well under control, sir, I think," continued the seaman, a burly Devonshire man. "Might I make so bold, sir, as to suggest that you stand easy? We'll see to this all right."
The man spoke truly. All the available pumps working continuously were sufficient to keep the remaining inrush of water well under control. Already the orlop-deck was practically cleared. In the magazine the water was just above the sub.'s waist.
Aubyn did not reply. He was incapable of speech. In the semi-gloom the Devonshire man saw that something was amiss.
"Do'ee take hold of this a minute, Joe," he said to his comrade, as he relaxed his hold on the hand-spike. "Now, sir, out you do come."