"Are you going to bring her to the surface, sir?" asked Polglaze, seeing that his captain was in his great coat. "Yes, I have decided to do so," replied Captain Restronguet. "Bring the boat under the upper hatchway, Lancarrow, and you, Gwennap, I want you to lay out a kedge up stream. See that the flukes engage in the rubble-work in the base of the centre-pier of the bridge, and run out another kedge aft." Lancarrow and Gwennap promptly donned their diving suits and entered the "water-lock," taking with them the anchors and a length of stout Manila rope. Twenty minutes later they returned, the water dripping from their glistening garb. "All correct, sir," reported Lancarrow, as soon as his headdress was removed. "Nothing short of the rope parting will set us adrift, and there’s precious little tide running now. I took good care to ram the fluke of the kedges well home." "What is it like up above--dark?" "I went up to have a look round, sir," announced Gwennap. "It is a pitch-dark night, the stars are in, and there’s hardly a breath of wind." "Good!" exclaimed Captain Restronguet approvingly. "Pass the word to Mr. Devoran to bring the vessel awash." The water in two of the buoyancy tanks was quickly expelled, and majestically the huge submerged hull rose from the bed of the river, till with her deck just a few inches above the surface she fretted gently at her mooring-rope. Being immediately below the massive pier of the Tubular Bridge there was no danger of a passing vessel--should one be under way at that hour--colliding with the "Aphrodite"; while owing to the darkness and the light-absorbing powers of her hull she was absolutely invisible at a boat’s length off. Rapidly yet silently the hatch on deck was unfastened and slid back. The collapsible boat, weighing less than sixty pounds, was passed through, extended, and kept in position by means of stretchers. Carclew and Gwennap tossed the oars into the frail craft, and holding the painter launched her over the side. "Ready, sir," whispered the latter. Captain Restronguet immediately came on deck and stepped agilely into the boat; the bowman pushed off, the oars dipped, and the canvas cockleshell darted in the direction of Coombe Bay, a tidal indentation just south of the town of Saltash. "Thank goodness it is a fairly black night," muttered Captain Restronguet. Beyond the pontoon lights at Saltash, the signal lamps of the railway, and the riding lights of a few vessels lying at the buoys on the west side of the river, all was in darkness. To gain the entrance to Coombe Bay it was necessary to pass between two cruisers, whose anchor lamps glimmered fitfully, throwing scintillating reflections on the placid water. "Boat ahoy!" challenged the look-out on the nearest vessel. The captain of the "Aphrodite" was equal to the occasion. "Passing!" he roared, using the shibboleth laid down in the Naval Regulations for this contingency.