Another nerve-racking twist and the "Aphrodite" began to dip her bows till this time the sub found his sliding movement checked by the fore and aft bulkhead. Then, with a rattle and clank of her complicated machinery, the propellers began to race, while the vessel danced about like a gigantic cork. Instead of plunging down the submarine had been raised to the surface, and was being tossed about on the crests of an angry sea.
After considerable trouble Hythe succeeded in opening the door. Outside in the alley-way all was in darkness. He groped his way towards the fore conning-tower, staggering against the metal wall with each abnormal heave of the vessel. Before he had traversed many feet he came into violent contact with a man whom he recognized by his voice as the chief officer.
"What's up, Devoran?" he asked.
"Heaven only knows, Mr. Hythe. Until we get the light switched on it will be difficult to find out. One thing, we are afloat, and riding easily."
"Much too easily for my liking," remarked Hythe, although he felt considerably reassured that the "Aphrodite" had risen.
"Where are you going?" asked Devoran.
"To the for'ard conning-tower."
"No use," replied the chief officer laconically. "All principal watertight doors are closed. Captain's for'ard. Best to go to the after conning-tower if you want to see anything. I left Kenwyn there."
The sub made for the steel ladder communicating with Kenwyn's post, and as he did so he heard Devoran raise the flap of the hatchway to the motor-room and ask Carclew what in the name of Pontius Pilate's grandmother was the matter with the light?
"Plug fused, sir. I am replacing it," shouted Carclew.