“It will merely shorten the period of our imprisonment,” returned the baronet, and then silence fell between the watchers. An hour dragged by, and still the waters rose; still the submarine was borne upwards. Anxiously the comrades peered out into the misty atmosphere, wondering how this strange adventure would end. Even the iron-nerved Ayuti grew uneasy as time went by, a feeling shared by his hounds, who, scared by the repeated explosions, whined pitifully at intervals. Muswani--motionless as ever--still kept his position upon the deck, being the only member of the party who seemed not at all dismayed by the strangeness of the situation. Time crawled on. Many thousands of feet the _Seal_ must have risen, when a sharp cry came from Haverly: “_The roof!_” Close upon his words came a report like a thunderclap, and a dazzling shaft of flame leapt from the surface of the water, illuminating the rocky walls of the basin and--scarce ten feet above--the roof. “We must sink her,” Mervyn cried, and darted to the stairs for the purpose of calling Garth. Ere he could reach them, however, a second report burst out. The dark mass of the roof above seemed to bend downwards. There was a roaring as of a thousand Niagaras; the swirl of many waters; a thunderous crash as though the earth itself were splitting asunder; then darkness! CHAPTER XXXV. INTO THE SUNLIGHT. SEYMOUR opened his eyes and gazed around dreamily. What had happened, he wondered, as he sat up, and what was this strange light that flooded the vessel? He rubbed his eyes and looked again, then a thrilling cry burst from his lips. “Daylight! Great Heaven, daylight!” He staggered to his feet. He was right. The _Seal_ was rolling on the swell of the ocean, bathed in the full glory of the mid-day sun. Into infinite distance the shimmering wave-crests danced on every hand. No land was visible save one small rocky island, entirely destitute of verdure, which thrust itself above the surface of the water some distance away. This much Seymour noted, then with a fervent prayer of thankfulness he turned to assist his comrades. Haverly lay senseless beside the wheel; his restoration was a matter of little difficulty. Neither was the Ayuti much trouble to bring round. But Mervyn, whom they found at the foot of the steps with a broken arm and other minor injuries, proved a more difficult subject. Hounds as well as men had shared the general oblivion, and the sun was sinking to its rest ere all were once more restored to a state of sensibility. The thankfulness of the explorers was supreme; but so strange had been the manner of their deliverance from their subterranean prison, that even yet they could scarcely grasp the fact that their wanderings and trials amid the wilds of the underworld were really over. Mervyn, his arm, skilfully set by the American, in a sling, was bubbling over with enthusiasm, despite his numerous injuries.