Forward and aft the water creamed over the steel deck of the Grampus, hiding the hull and leaving only the upper part of the conning tower and the steel periscope mast exposed. It seemed to Matt as though he was afloat in nothing more substantial than a barrel, with the clamoring, rushing waves all around him.
Forward, backward and sideways the submarine rolled through a terrific arc, and an occasional wave charged over him, leaving his dripping hair tumbled about his eyes.
For a brief space only did the awful spectacle claim his attention, and then he turned his eyes over the roaring waves in an attempt to locate the whaleboat. The Grampus was now racing with the wind, and the stinging lines of rain struck against the young motorist's back. Again and again he brushed the water from his eyes and continued to peer eagerly ahead.
But his heart was steadily sinking. Dick was a sailor, but what skill could keep the whaleboat right side up in such a tempest? The waves drove past the Grampus at racehorse speed, flinging their foamy arms high in the air. Matt shouted at the top of his lungs, but his voice was puny and ineffective. The gale caught it, feathered it out into a thousand wisps of sound and scattered it into the roar and crash of the waves.
From below him came the notes of a Gabriel horn, but these were little more effective than Matt's voice had been. The minutes passed, and Matt's hopes declined steadily. After a time, he knew not how long, he felt a hand tugging at his feet. Quickly unhooking the edges of the tarp, he descended.
"You've been up there an hour, Matt," said Captain Nemo, Jr., "and Cassidy will relieve you."
"I don't think there's much hope," returned Matt heavily, removing the waist-tarp and handing it to the mate. "I don't see how Dick and Carl could possibly stay in the boat in such a frightful sea."
"We never can tell what we're able to do in this world," said the captain hopefully, "until we're called upon to put forth our best powers. Dick is a cool one, and he knows the sea. If any one could pull through that storm and bring Carl along with him, it's Dick Ferral. We may not find them while the gale is on, but afterward we can cruise about and perhaps be able to pick them up. That is my hope, at all events."
Cassidy, rope in hand, was already on his way up the ladder. When he had taken up his position, the captain turned to Matt.
"That locker is our slop chest," said he, "and in it you will find some dry clothes. Better make a change, Matt, and be as comfortable as possible."