HOW MARK MADE HIMSELF SMALL.
On hearing the gun shot, followed so quickly by the command, "Prepare to dive!" Mark Redisham knew that the strange cruiser he had seen was unquestionably an enemy, firing upon the mine-sweepers.
An electric bell buzzed insistently; some one sang out: "Diving stations!" and there was a scurrying of bare feet along the narrow deck. It was useless now for him to go in search of Lieutenant Ingoldsby's binoculars. His impulse was to get off the submarine and aboard his own ship as quickly as possible. Yet for an instant he hesitated, lost in the confusion of dark passages and intricate machinery.
A second shot sounded. He turned and scrambled blindly back to the companion-hatch. But here he was stopped. The steep iron ladder was occupied by an officer who was even then screwing down the fastening of the watertight hatch-cover above his head.
"Can't I get off, sir?" Mark cried desperately. He had no fear, even though already he heard the gurgling of the water in the ballast tanks and knew that the submarine was on the point of being submerged. He clutched at the officer's naked ankles and repeated his question:
"Can't I get off, sir—on to my own ship—the Dainty?"
The officer, a sub-lieutenant in working kit, descended to the iron grating at the foot of the ladder.
"Not now," he answered quietly, as he pressed an electric switch, flooding the whole ship with light. "You must stop where you are. Sit down in that corner. Make yourself small. Don't touch anything, or you may get a nasty shock."
He bent down and disappeared through what looked like an oven door in the bulkhead. Mark could see the men hurrying to their posts. Two went forward to the torpedo-tubes, one to each main ballast-tank kingston, one to the hydroplane wheel, another to the motor switches. An engineer took charge of the air-escape vents.
Each kingston being opened and the water rushing in, the boat began to sink. Mark felt an uncomfortable, heaving motion beneath him. He heard the hum of machinery—the whirr of well-oiled wheels, the chunking of pistons and cranks. The Diesel engine was working whilst the conning-tower remained above the surface for the ship to get clear of the trawler alongside. Electric bells trilled their messages from the commander to the men at their various stations.