The Prince broke in upon his reflections.
"It is good to defy a—Prussian. It did me much good. But Borga is his nursery. He is its nurse. He must act. I wonder—— Ach, if he should try to stop us I will see him in the deepest pit of hell."
He threw up his hands with his final explosion and in an action of almost schoolboyish delight. Then he smiled into the Englishman's face, half questioningly, half eagerly.
"Between us and the open sea lie a hundred batteries of heavy, compressed-air guns. One shell from any of those guns could send us to the bottom, if it caught us at the surface. Then there is the mined channel. We are without a pilot. If we submerge the mines are thicker still. For myself and my vessel I do not care. For you?"
Ruxton shrugged.
"If I am caught and questioned I shall be shot. And you, too, for bringing me here. A gambler's chance is always attractive, even to a man who never gambles."
"Then we amuse ourselves at the expense of our friend Von Salzinger. When you are safe in England I will forestall him in Berlin. I have no fear when you are—safe. Let us go on deck."
Five minutes later they were standing on the deck of the submersible. They were standing at the rail, with the conning-tower intervening between them and the shore. They were the only souls visible on the deck. The captain of the vessel was in the turret, but the crew were all below.
Ruxton observed this at once, as he also observed that the skylights were all sealed ready for submersion.
"Your captain is ready for any emergency," he said, indicating these preparations.