THE MISSING SUBMARINE.
When Arnold Hythe recovered consciousness he found himself lying on his bunk in the cabin that had been appropriated to his use. The scuttle was closed, an electric light was burning, and by the slight and peculiar oscillation of the vessel he knew that the "Aphrodite" was running submerged.
He was not alone. Sitting at the head of his bunk was Kenwyn, the second officer. He was reading a book, but hearing the sub move he replaced the volume on a shelf and asked Hythe how he felt.
"Not quite up to the mark, thanks. But what am I doing here? Ah, I remember. Have you got Gwennap safe on board?"
"Yes, thanks chiefly to you. He's still unconscious. Devoran told me he saw you knock the nonsense out of him, By Jove! I shouldn't like a blow like that."
"I hope I didn't hit him too hard?" asked the sub anxiously.
"Too hard? Not much. He's as tough as nails, and he thoroughly deserved to have his figure-head damaged. He is the only member of the ship's company who cannot swim, and the captain has been trying to get the fellow to learn for a long time past. But you are a plucky fellow, Hythe."
"Where are we making for now?" asked Hythe, seeking to change an embarrassing subject. "Has the propeller-shafting been cleared yet?"
"We're making for the North coast of Spain: Machichaco Bay, to be exact--a place a short distance to the east'ard of Cape Villano. You see, the rising sea and Gwennap's accident interrupted the work in hand, so Captain Restronguet, rather than put into any of the harbours on the French Biscayan coast, has decided to make for Machichaco Bay, where there are excellent facilities for repairing the damage without fear of interruption. We are running with only the port propeller, that gives us barely twelve knots when submerged, and at that rate we expect to sight land about mid day on Thursday."
"Is Captain Restronguet going to beach the 'Aphrodite' at half tide?" asked Hythe.