After this rather exciting episode, it was decided that operations to recover the treasure would have to be postponed until more peaceful times. The treasure-seekers had their hands full in fighting the stormy seas and powerful currents, not to mention the great depth of water, without having to fight the foe as well. At the end of the war, the battle with wind and wave for the treasure of the _Laurentic_ was once more resumed. So exposed was her position that for fully half the year it was impossible for divers to work there at all owing to the storms that raged. Even in fine weather there were the currents to fight against. And their strength at times was almost incredible. They could swirl big boulders along the seabed as though they were but pebbles. More than one diver, during his career, has experienced the sensation of being picked up like a feather and dropped over the side of the wreck on which he has been working. He might weigh roughly 160 lb. Slung over his back would be a 40-lb. weight, across his chest would be a similar weight, while each boot would be loaded with a leaden sole weighing 16 lb. Fully equipped he would turn the scale at about 3 cwt., yet the current has simply played with him as though he were thistledown. Its strength has been such that he could not fight against it. Consequently, he has been compelled to give up all ideas of work and return to the surface. It is indicative of what the salvors of the _Laurentic_ had to contend with in this respect. Two years at the bottom of the Atlantic had wrought a tremendous change in the once-proud liner. The divers found her plates corroded with rust, girders collapsing everywhere. The sheer weight of the water above her was crushing her flat, squeezing her into a shapeless mass just as you might crush a lily in your hand. Moreover, she was full of silt and mud. Strange fishes glided about her inky depths. Dread conger eels of mighty girth lurked in the labyrinths of the wreck. In spite of the terrible condition to which the wreck had been reduced, the divers finally managed to locate the strong-room. The bubbles from their helmeted heads flowed ceaselessly upward as the exhaust air ascended to the surface. Slowly they made their way forward towards some bars, dimly seen within the recesses of the ship. They were in the treasure-room. The gold and silver lay about them. Some of the precious ingots barely peeped out of the silt. The attendant on the salvage ship heard the telephone buzz. “Hallo!” he said. “We’ve found the treasure,” said a voice from under the sea. It was a squeaky voice, for, strangely enough, talking in compressed air gives the voice a high pitch, and at this depth it would be impossible for a diver to whistle. The pressure of the air on his lips would prevent him.