The salvage operation continued without a hitch in glorious weather and under ideal conditions. The divers' dread of sharks seemed to have been a needless one, for the noise of the motors and the activity of all hands had no doubt scared the tigers of the deep. One day Villiers was at work below, when he noticed a gaudily-coloured fish dart out from behind a box, and graze his hand. The fish was but a small one, less than six inches in length, but its dorsal fins resembled trailing tendrils and its tail ended in two tapering points. Hardly paying any attention to the creature, for fishes were continually swimming around the divers, Villiers began prising open the metal-bound box. Before he had completed his task his arm was throbbing frightfully, and his hand seemed to lose the power of gripping things. He "stuck it" for another ten minutes, then signed to Swaine that he was finishing work. Before he reached dry ground he felt on the point of collapse, and when he did gain the beach he toppled inertly upon the sand, to the astonishment and alarm of Vivian and Merridew, who were standing by to assist the diving-party. They divested him of his diving-suit. By this time his arm had swollen tremendously, and the flesh was turning a dull-grey colour. Harborough, hastily summoned ashore, diagnosed the symptoms as being similar to those of snake-bite, There were a couple of minute punctures on the back of Jack's hand, through which the poison had been transmitted to his veins. For the next twelve hours it was touch and go with Jack Villiers. His comrades plied him with enough raw whisky to make a man in ordinary health helplessly intoxicated. They walked him up and down without giving him the slightest chance of rest. The treatment was drastic, but it was successful, and, although the arm remained swollen and painful, the danger was past. Much to his disgust, Villiers had to "stand down", and Swaine carried on alone. That meant more delay, but it was unavoidable, and things might have been worse. Further difficulties were met with through the temporary breakdown of the submarine lighting arrangements, and until that was rectified Swaine was perforce obliged to relinquish his visits to the wreck. "Look here, old man," said Jack, one morning as Swaine was preparing for a descent. "I'm fit again. There is no reason why I shouldn't go with you." "Better wait till you've seen Harborough," objected Swaine. "You might jolly well think you're all right, but I shouldn't like the responsibility of passing you fit for duty." "Right-o," agreed Jack, who saw the force of his fellow-diver's argument. "Don't wait. I'll push off afloat and see what Harborough has to say."