It seemed as if I was about to fly off into space, and for a few moments I almost lost my balance. Then my heavy leaden shoes sank me straight down, and I dropped slowly until my feet touched something.
The light had gradually faded as I left the surface, and where I now stood it seemed to be pitch dark. The pressure of the air appeared to swell my head, and a roaring was in my ears. Then I determined to do something, and bent forward to see if I could.
Gradually the dim outline of the ship's deck took form before the glass—that is, the deck in my immediate vicinity. I could make out the rail, and began pulling myself along by it. Soon I came to the pilot house forward, and recognized it by feeling the panels of the glass front with my hands.
I knew that I was just about right in regard to position, and started for the rail to get over the side and down to the place where the blow-out had been made. I carefully swung one leg over and then another, amazed at the ease with which I lifted the immense leaden shoes. Then guiding my air hose and line clear of the rail, I slipped off, and dropped down to the bottom far below.
In spite of the fact that I had now been under several minutes, I could not make out objects well enough to do anything; but determined to try to feel for the opening to the safe. After ten minutes spent groping about, I felt an immense hole in the ship's side, my fingers going carefully around the edges where the torn plates told of the force of the blast.
I entered and felt for the sides of the room within where the blast had torn out the iron and held it hanging to drop upon the unfortunate Mitchell. I now saw I could do nothing without more light, and carefully made my way out to the sea floor, where I signaled to haul me up.
I came slowly, and as I did so my brain appeared swelling until it seemed no longer possible to hold it within my skull. The pain was intense, and I hardly noticed the growing light until I was at the foot of the ladder. Then I climbed up, being dragged bodily by my life line. The front was taken off my helmet, and I spoke.
"It's all right," I panted, "get the lamp out, and stand by to send me down the tools I'll need."
Rokeby gave me a small drink of whisky, and the rest soon had the electric lamp ready. I went below again. This time I had no trouble in finding my way, for the light from the spark penetrated the sea for several feet about me.
In the watery darkness I made out the hole, and saw the damage done by the charge. The entire wall of the compartment had been blown in, and, in going into the room, Mitchell had gotten under it so that he had dislodged an immense piece of plate which had fallen upon him, and cut off his air and line.