I recall my instant, fleeting impressions. A thing solid, metallic, mechanical. A lurking thing of a strange, sinister aspect--a thing diabolical. It flashed off sidewise and down as we turned, a darkly shining globe with a great round white spot on it like an eye! Arturo showed unexpected presence of mind. He reached with one hand for the telescope range-finder; and with the other for a stern searchlight, and trained them both upon the fleeing object now passing under our keel. “Jeff, look!” The telescope image showed for an instant in the mirror on a shelf before us as Arturo flung on the current. An enlarged image of a convex window, like glass, transparent with a dim green light behind it. A face was there at the window. Human? I do not know. But it showed in that momentary impression the face of a young girl. Lurid, ghastly with the green glow upon it. Beautiful? Perhaps that. Or weird, unearthly. I recall the intent staring eyes, the parted lips, as though with labored, frightened breathing. A startled face, framed in a tangle of tresses. But it was more than just startled. Those staring green eyes! I met them full, in the mirror. [Illustration: _For an instant he saw the strange face in the mirror._] And the light from them struck at me with a shudder and a lure. An instant. Then the face, the image in our mirror, was gone. I reached up and snapped off the current. My fingers were trembling. Arturo murmured, “Oh.” He was sitting very still, staring blankly as though the vision of that face was still before him. CHAPTER II. “COMING UP, FROM UNDER THE SEA!” The lookouts had seen the globe; even the old man, on his emergency mirrors in his cabin, had caught a brief glimpse of it. He stopped us at the surface. There was nothing up there; a calm, empty moonlit tropic sea, with nothing in sight except the lights of a distant passing liner ten thousand feet or so overhead. We dived, and cruised around, from fifty fathoms to the surface. But there was nothing to be seen. I think that none but Arturo and myself had caught the vision of that girl’s face. We did not mention it. Arturo pleaded earnestly: “Don’t, Jeff. Father would rather you did not, I’m sure. We’ll tell him, let him inform the proper authorities.” I was determined, in the interests of my superiors, that our director-general should know as soon as I reached New York. But that was no reason for spreading it aboard ship. It was the only abnormal incident of that last voyage. Naturally it left me wondering, as if here were the key-piece to all these scattered happenings.