Matt whirled around and allowed his eyes to follow the direction of Speake's pointing finger.
On a shelf-like projection of the high bank, perhaps a quarter of a mile ahead, was a group of rebels. They could be seen only indistinctly, but it was apparent from their actions that they were waiting for the Grampus to come within good range.
"Climb for the hatch, Gaines!" ordered Matt. "We've got to get below the surface. If we stay out here, while we're passing those soldiers, they'll shoot us off the deck."
Gaines got to his feet and walked painfully to the tower. After he had climbed in, and vanished, Matt followed, closing the hatch behind him.
"Fill the ballast tanks, Clackett!" called Matt, through the tank-room tube. "About ten feet will do, just so the periscope ball is awash."
A moment more and the submarine began to settle downward.
"What are you going to do when we get near the fort, Matt?" asked Speake.
"I don't believe the rebels have had time to plant any submarine mines," said Matt. "It takes some time to do that, and not enough time has elapsed since Don Carlos reached the fort and reported that the submarine had been captured. We'll pass the fort under water, and chance the mines. Better that than running on the surface and being bombarded."
Patter, patter came a ringing hail on the deck.
"Ah!" cried Gaines, "the soldiers are taking a whack at us!" He laughed derisively. "I guess we can stand as much of that as they want to give us. Their lead slides from the deck like water off a duck's back."