“Perhaps Wilson’s been attacked, and had to put out from shore,” Seymour suggested gloomily, after standing for some time in moody silence; but the hopelessness of his tones belied his words. In his heart he fully believed that the faithful _Seal_ had vanished for ever. Vividly to his mind came the adventure of a few days before--the attack of the giant octopus. What if another of the huge cephalopods had attacked the vessel, and had dragged both it and the engineer below the surface! He shuddered at the thought. “I reckon we’ll be getting used to reverses shortly,” said the Yankee bitterly. “He may return,” Seymour answered. “I wouldn’t gamble on it,” was the retort; “but we’ll camp here awhile, and see if he turns up. If he don’t, I guess it’s a case!” He finished with a significant gesture. For ten long hours they waited on that dreary beach, waiting vainly for the vessel that was their only hope in this land of eternal twilight. They slept and watched by turns; but no welcome flash from the searchlight of the submarine made glad their aching eyes, no voice answered their repeated hails. At intervals they discharged their rifles, caring nought for the risk they ran in so doing should any wolf-men still remain on this side of the abyss. But no answering report echoed over the water, and at length, fully persuaded that their faithful vessel had disappeared for ever, they turned reluctantly inland once more. CHAPTER X. THE COMING OF THE GREAT FISH-LIZARD. “HEAVEN grant they may return in safety!” muttered the engineer as his two friends vanished amid the fungi. For a while after their departure he amused himself by gazing at the weird and glistening growths ashore; but ere long he grew tired of the monotonous gleam of the things. They were so uncanny, so spectral in their splendour. Securely fastening the turret door, he went below, determined to give his beloved engines a thorough clean. Although to an unpractised eye the gleaming cranks and levers appeared spotless, the engineer found sufficient to occupy his attention for three hours, ascending at intervals during this period to the turret to assure himself that all was well. Only when the engines glistened like burnished silver did Wilson cease his efforts; then, cleansing his grimy hands, he returned to the wheelhouse, to await the return of his comrades. Little did he think what the future held in store for him; little he dreamed of the perils through which he was to pass ere he saw his friends again! Slowly the hours dragged by, and there came no sign from the absent ones, and no sound broke the appalling, death-like silence of the underworld. Once Wilson thought he heard a faint explosion, but the sound was too indistinct for him to judge with any certainty. Within the boat and without all was silent as the grave.