"If that's the wreck, sir," said Claverhouse, who, having seen the _Cormorant_ safely moored, had rejoined the boats, "it would be better to get to her from the land, I think. She's within a hundred yards of the beach, and, although the water deepens pretty quickly, a diver ought to make his way up and down with very little trouble." "Good scheme, Claverhouse," replied Harborough approvingly. "We might even rig up a semi-permanent guide-rope, and later on an endless line for getting the stuff ashore." "He's returning, sir," announced Villiers, pointing to the line of bubbles. "That's splendid," exclaimed Harborough. He could hardly conceal his impatience, for there were moments when the generally-inscrutable features of the baronet did betray the state of his mind, and this was one of them. The quivering of the rope-ladder under the influence of the current gave place to a series of violent jerks. Swaine was ascending. "Trim the boat!" ordered Harborough, as the crew leant over the gunwale from which the rope-ladder hung. It was a necessary caution, for in their eagerness to witness the return of their comrade the men had put the gunwale dangerously low down. At length the great copper helmet, showing green in the clear water, came into view. Another twenty rungs and it appeared above the surface. Waist deep, Swaine waited until the glass observation-discs in his helmet were unscrewed. He was breathing heavily, and his red woollen cap was damp with perspiration. "Well?" inquired Harborough. "Found it?" Swaine shook his head. "Found something," he replied, "but not the _Fusi Yama_." His gaze fell upon Claverhouse. "Say, Alec, dear old thing," he continued. "Weren't you the guy who bombed a P-boat, in mistake for a Fritz submarine?" "Yes," admitted Claverhouse; "but I missed her, thank Heaven." "Next time you go up you'd better take me to spot for you," resumed Swaine. "I guess I might be able to distinguish between the _Fusi Yama_ and a wooden two-decker. Fact, sir," he declared, replying to Harborough's unspoken question. "It's the wreck of a frigate or something of the sort. Couple of centuries old, I should imagine. She's lying hard over on her starboard side. Amidships she's practically broken in two. Her foremast is still standing, but the main- and mizen-masts are half buried in the mud; water-logged and held down by the weight of the metal-work, I suppose." "Didn't go on board?" asked Beverley. "Not much," replied Swaine emphatically. "Looked too jolly rotten to my liking. I'd tackle it if I had a chum down with me." "However," broke in Harborough briskly, "since we are looking for the _Fusi Yama_, investigations on the wooden vessel can wait. When will you feel equal to another ascent, Claverhouse: to-morrow morning?" Alec looked up and noted the position of the sun. Oblique rays were of little use, but for the next hour operations might be possible. "I'll go up at once, sir," he replied. CHAPTER XXI