"Ten feet of submergence, cap'n!" came from a speaking tube so distinctly that it almost seemed as though the speaker was in the periscope room.
"Very good, Clackett," replied the captain. "Hold her so. Now, Matt," the captain went on, "we'll see what the periscope has to show us."
The hollow steel mast of the periscope, contrived with powerful reflectors, terminated in a hood that swung above a table.
Captain Nemo, Jr., pushed aside a fold of the hood and he and Matt looked down on the highly-polished mirror that formed the top of the table.
A stormy scene lay under their eyes. Their horizon was narrowed to only a few yards by rain and spray, but within this brief radius they got a sight of raging waves and a fierce tumult of waters. Now and again the scene was blotted out for a moment as the periscope ball was drenched by a comber.
"We can't take the boys off now, captain," said Matt.
"It would be impossible in this sea," answered the captain. "I was not looking for the squall to hit us so soon. We'll try and follow the Santa Maria, however, and take them off later."
"How can you follow her when you can't see her?"
"We know her track, and we'll follow her by compass."
The wild roaring of wind and sea came to those in the Grampus like a dull murmur, and the submarine's rocking, at a ten-foot submergence, was proof of the power the elements must be showing on the surface.