Hythe could hear the monsters snapping their triple lines of teeth in anticipation of a meal. He kicked the more, shouting at the top of his voice in the hope that the sharks would delay close investigation until it was too late for them to consummate their intentions.
The sub had heard tales of how native divers in the Pacific, knife in hand, boldly attacked the tigers of the deep. The recollection gave him but cold comfort. True he had a knife, but he lacked the marvellous aquatic agility of the Japanese and South Sea Islanders. Moreover, directly he released his hold his unfortunate captain would sink. He vaguely argued that it was but another instance of where theory does not always go hand in hand with practice.
With a sudden rush one of the sharks dashed straight towards the horrified man. The brute turned on its back in order to deliver a terrific bite. Then, apparently seized with a sudden panic, it brought its huge jaws together with a sickening snap and darted off. It was a narrow shave; so narrow that on turning the shark had rasped Hythe's hand with his rough skin.
Finding that nothing happened to hurt it, the shark returned to the charge; as it turned on its back the sub could see right into his capacious mouth. He gazed horror-stricken, too terrified even to kick out or utter a sound. Even as he looked the brute's head was literally shattered, dyeing the water with blood, while the sharp report of a rifle rang in Hythe's ears.
The coils of a rope hurtling through the air fell within his reach. He grasped the means of safety, yet was too exhausted to do more. Another shot, and yet another, rang out; then O'Shaunessey, leaping overboard with a bowline, passed the loop over his officer's shoulders.
"All right, sorr," exclaimed the Irishman cheerily. "Do you let go. I'll see to the cap'n, sure I will."
Pale and breathless Hythe was hauled upon the deck of the "Aphrodite." Captain Restronguet was also drawn into safety, and O'Shaunessey, without any attempt at haste, swarmed up the rope hand over hand.
Devoran and Kenwyn, handing their still smoking rifles to a seaman, hastened to where Captain Restronguet was lying.
"Is he dead?" asked the second officer.
"I am afraid so," replied Devoran gravely, then as the first blast of the approaching storm thrashed the hitherto placid water into sheets of foam he added:--