There were two periscopes. It was the forward one they were called to. They saw a circular table from which a tube ran up through the top of the submarine. A man in shirt-sleeves—he was the other coxswain—got up from a stool and motioned Ken to take his seat and look through what seemed like a pair of binoculars.
Ken gave a cry of surprise. Instead of the hot, stuffy interior of the submarine with its pale electrics and maze of machinery, he was gazing at a wide circle of small-crested waves which shone gloriously blue under a brilliant sky. Now and then a white-winged gull swooped across the view, but apart from these, there was no sign of life or of land.
'Here, let's have a squint,' said Roy eagerly, and Ken gave way.
'Why, it's like a living picture show,' declared Roy. 'Gosh, I could sit and watch it all day. But I say, can't other craft spot the periscope in all this sunshine?'
'Not with this bobble on. At least not very easy,' said the observer, as he took his place again.
'Where are we?' asked Roy.
'Somewheres in the Sea o' Marmora,' Williams answered. 'Just in the mouth o' it, so to speak. I expect the old man'll keep pushing along up the north coast, awaiting for them transports out o' the Bosphorus.'
'And you talk about its being dull, Roy?' said Ken with a laugh.
'Well, perhaps I spoke a bit hastily,' allowed Roy. 'I'll grant I'd like to see us get our own back on some of those Turkish blighters. I haven't forgotten last night yet, I can tell you.'
'You wait till we get our eyes on one, that's all,' said Williams,' and you won't wait much longer.'