The next morning Reuter’s published a telegram from their agent at Cherbourg, announcing that the mysterious Captain Restronguet had brought his submarine into the harbour and at high tide had placed three dummy mines at the entrance to the docks in the naval arsenal. To each of the mines was a tablet on which was painted "Avec les assurances de ma plus parfaite consideration--Restronguet, capitan de sous-marin." With the fall of the tide, that here exceeds twenty feet, these disquieting evidences were discovered, and within a few hours Captain Restronguet was the talk of all the cafés of Paris. The French, pioneers in submarine warfare, were now at a loss to explain how a submerged craft could, in broad daylight, enter the breakwater-enclosed harbour and run alongside the caissons of the docks without being discovered, while to deposit three bulky "mines" in water of not more than three fathoms in depth was an exploit that required a lot of explanation as to how it was done. The transference of Captain Restronguet’s attentions to the other side of the Channel relaxed the tension on the British shore. But, bearing in mind that Cherbourg is only a few hours’ distance from Portsmouth, the naval authorities at the latter port were still on tenter-hooks. A week passed. The First Battle Squadron of the Home Fleet still remained at Spithead, although under orders to proceed to the Nore at an early date. At 11.15 one morning a startling incident occurred that, rightly or wrongly, was attributed in some manner to Captain Restronguet. It was on Southsea beach, almost midway between the pier and the castle. The beach and parade were thronged with people, mostly visitors who had taken advantage of the Fleet’s presence to enjoy the view of the ships. The sea was perfectly smooth, being unruffled by the light off-shore breeze; the tide was, however, running very strongly, for it was about the fourth hour of the ebb. Suddenly a succession of shrieks from a group of children paddling in the water attracted the attention of persons in the vicinity, and to the astonishment of every one the head and shoulders of a man encased in a dull green metal helmet emerged from the waves. For a few moments the man hesitated, then staggered out of the water. At the edge of the beach he sat down and began to remove his head-dress, that the onlookers noticed was unprovided with air-tube or life-line. He was apparently quite independent of an outside air-supply. Surprise had hitherto kept the spectators at a respectful distance, although their numbers were momentarily increased by others, until a deep semicircle of gaping onlookers hedged the diver in on the landward side. But as soon as he began to take off his helmet the crowd swayed nearer and nearer.