After a while the Sub roused himself and took stock of his surroundings. The platform was barely six feet in width and twenty in length. On the starboard side was a handrail, which had escaped the fate that had overtaken the greater part of the suspended portions of the aircraft. Aft, the platform broke away suddenly, leaving only the girder which had caused Hamerton such a hazardous journey. The other end terminated at the bulkhead of the midship nacelle, access to which was gained by a narrow sliding door.
Even as he looked a hand grasped the edge of the sliding panel, apparently with the intention of drawing it open. In a moment Hamerton was on his feet. His dizziness was past, the new phase of danger that threatened him aroused all his energies. It was quite possible that several of the crew might have remained on board; if so, there were complications ahead.
In vain Hamerton sought for a weapon with which to defend himself. There was nothing: all the twisted aluminium bars within reach were firmly secured to the platform. He must make the best use of his fists.
It required considerable effort to double his powerful hands, owing to the strain of hanging on to the girder, combined with the lacerated condition of his palms. But having arrived thus far in his bid for freedom, Hamerton was not the man to knuckle under tamely; he meant to make a hard fight for liberty.
The sliding panel was giving the unknown a lot of trouble. Owing to the violent shocks that the airship had experienced, every part of the framework had been strained, and in this instance the door was tightly jammed.
Another hand appeared in sight. It was not that of a second man, but only the left hand of the still unseen member of the crew. For fully half a minute the fellow wrenched at the non-yielding door, then, giving up his task as a bad job, he relaxed his hold.
A dull thud, followed by a deep groan, told the Sub that the danger had been exaggerated. Without hesitation he made his way to the door, and with a heave of his brawny shoulders sent the panel clattering into the recess intended for it.
Lying at full length on the floor of the car was a man dressed in the uniform of a lieutenant of the German Navy. His forehead was caked with dried blood, his clothes were rent till there was little to choose between the rags which covered Hamerton's frame and those of the injured man.
"It is quite evident that this poor fellow is the only member of the crew left on board," reasoned the Sub, "unless, of course, there are some lying stunned in the wreck of the fore nacelle. Otherwise they would have come to his assistance long before this."
He bent over the wounded officer. The lieutenant was quite unconscious. His chief injury, Hamerton found by a hasty examination, consisted of a bruise over the right temple. In the centre of the forehead was a deep, clear cut that could be treated lightly, although the appearance of the congealed blood made the wound look far more dangerous than it actually was.