“That’s right,” French answered. “Instead of going directly west, so Sam Pullar told me, she went south to avoid those submarines you spoke of and which were supposed to be operating off the Land’s End. Her course was followed by wireless, down to near the Spanish coast, and then across fairly due west. She was last seen by a Cape boat some thirty miles west of Finisterre. Then a message was received from her when she was some 250 miles north of the Azores, that a U-boat had come along, and had ordered her to stop. The message gave her position and went on to say that a boat was coming aboard from the submarine. Then it stopped, and that was the last thing that was heard of her. Not a body or a boat or a bit of wreckage was ever picked up, and it was clear that every one on board was lost. Then after a time confirmation was obtained. Our intelligence people in Germany intercepted a report from the commander of the submarine who sank her, giving details. She had been sunk in latitude 41° 36′ north, longitude 28° 53′ west, which confirmed the figures sent out in her last wireless message. Four boats had got away, but the commander had fired on them and had sunk them one after another, so that not a single member of the passengers or crew should survive.” “Dirty savages,” Barnes commented. “But people in open boats wouldn’t have had much chance there anyway, particularly in February. If they had been able to keep afloat at all, they would probably have missed the Azores, and it’s very unlikely they would have made the Spanish or Portuguese coast—it would have been too far.” French pushed forward his atlas. “Just whereabouts did she sink?” he inquired. “About there.” Barnes indicated a point north of the Azores. “But this atlas is too small to see it. Send someone to my room for my large atlas. You’ll see better on that.” French having telephoned his instructions Barnes went on. “She’s evidently lying on what is called the Dolphin Rise. The Dolphin Rise is part of a great ridge which passes down the middle of the Atlantic from near Iceland to well down towards the Antarctic Ocean. This ridge is covered by an average of some 1,700 fathoms of water, with vastly greater depths on either side. It is volcanic and is covered by great submarine mountain chains. Where the tops of these mountains protrude above the surface we get, of course, islands, and the Azores are such a group.” A constable at that moment entered with the large atlas, and Barnes continued: “Now we’ll see in a moment.” He ran his finger down the index of maps, then turned the pages. “Here we are. Here is a map of the North Atlantic Ocean: here are the Azores and hereabouts is your point, and—By Jove!” the young man looked actually excited, “here is what your cipher means all right!” The other three crowded round in almost breathless excitement. Barnes pointed with a pencil slightly to the east of a white spot about a quarter of an inch in diameter which bore the figure 18.