Jack quickly had his figures made. He knew where the hull lay, in what direction, and how far below the surface the deck of the sunken derelict lay. He planned to land the torpedo twelve feet below the derelict's deck, which, he believed, would strike a full and fair blow.
"Torpedo's loaded, sir," called Eph, while the "Hastings," under slow speed astern, was gliding back to get into position for the attack.
"Station Biffens by the firing lever, then," called down Captain Benson.
"Tell him to fire on the instant that he gets the order. Now, Mr.
Somers, stand by the submerging apparatus. Drop just forty-two feet
below the surface, then report instantly to me."
"Aye, aye, sir."
Lieutenant Danvers stood by the submarine boy, intently watching, listening, and digesting Benson's plan. Yet the naval officer ventured no interference.
In another moment the hull of the "Hastings" began to disappear under the waves.
"Forty-two feet—sir—and—stopped!" shouted up Eph Somers.
"Ready to fire!" Jack hailed.
"Aye, aye, sir!"
"Fire!"