[CHAPTER VIII.]
A DIVE FOR SAFETY.
As Matt was the last one to lose his senses, so he was the first to recover. And here again his superior endurance must have scored in his favor.
Always in the pink of physical condition, and striving constantly to keep himself so, his powers of recuperation were quick to react and reassert themselves.
He sat up, dazed and bewildered, and was some moments in picking up the chain of events where it had been dropped.
By degrees he lived over the events that immediately preceded his lapse into unconsciousness, and thoughts of the treacherous Ah Sin brought him staggering to his feet.
The Grampus was yawing and tumbling about in the waves, completely at the mercy of wind and currents. Seizing the wheel, Matt brought the submarine to her course and lashed the wheel with his twisted handkerchief.
Pausing by the foot of the ladder he looked up into the conning tower. The hatch was open.
What had become of the Chinaman he asked himself. Had he, confident that the boat would be blown up, gained the deck and thrown himself into the sea? Matt had heard of fanatics of that sort—carrying out orders given by a higher power and then immolating themselves on the altar of what they supposed to be their duty.