Captain Restronguet flashed his lamp upon that awful group, then swiftly turning made his way down the steeply sloping deck, and gained the base of the ladder leading to the conning-tower. Here he waited for the sub to rejoin him, and again the pair hung back.
Hythe was visibly trembling. Within his diving dress the perspiration poured from him. This was the sort of danger that he had courted day after day with comparative equanimity.
Captain Restronguet flashed his lamp upwards. The rays revealed a pair of men's sea-boots jammed against an open steel grating. These boots were not empty--in them were the bones of a human leg. The rest of the poor creature lay huddled against the binnacle. By the tarnished uniform it was evident that the victim was either the lieutenant or the sous-lieutenant of the ill-fated craft.
As Hythe gained the upper platform a crab glided away from the heap of clothing--then another, and yet another. Overcoming his repugnance the sub grasped the end of a gold chain and pulled a watch from the unfortunate officer's pocket. It had stopped at seven o'clock. Allowing that both the motor-room clock and this timepiece were accurate until stopped by the water, one hour and three quarters had elapsed ere the air confined in the conning-tower had failed to support life. One hour and three quarters, imprisoned in a steel tomb without the faintest hope of rescue--this is but one of the risks men run in the race for sea supremacy!
In the upper story of the conning-tower they found yet another corpse--also an officer. He was untouched by water, for even after the lapse of time since the disaster there was still a considerable amount of air trapped in the steel citadel. He had found time to write, even in that awful impenetrable darkness, for across the open chart, written in lines that frequently overlapped each other, was the commencement of a fairly coherent report of the disaster.
After that the poor victim had been seized with a form of frenzy, for he had endeavoured to open the manhole in the conning-tower--failing that in his despair had tried to end his misery by shooting himself with his revolver, for the weapon, with all chambers empty, lay on the grating beside him. Even a swift and merciful death had been denied him, for in the darkness he had been unable to find the cartridges.
Hythe turned and descended the ladder as fast as he could. Captain Restronguet took the chart on which the course and the fragment of the report had been pencilled out and also the officer's rough log-book, and followed his companion. But the captain's investigations were not yet complete.
He made his way for'ard to where the two bow torpedo tubes were placed. This part of the submarine was deserted, save for a shoal of small fish of the sardine tribe. Their mode of entry was now apparent, for besides the rent in the plating, gaps the width of a man's finger were visible in the seams. The huge metal cylinder, which for dead-weight far exceeded a vessel of the same dimensions, had been hurled by the continued power of the twin propellers, and the irresistible force of the mountainous waves, at a tremendous pace upon the solid rocks--and the shock had not been sufficient to stun the unfortunate victims who formed the crew.
The two explorers having performed their duty, hastened to the open hatch. There with a common impulse they both stood stiffly erect and saluted. It was a tribute from men who had faced perils under the sea and who yet survived to those who, similarly situated, had sealed their devotion to duty with their lives.
"Well, Mr. Hythe, what did you think of that ghastly spectacle?" asked Captain Restronguet after their return to the "Aphrodite."