Seagrave and Boyd had both turned in, and in the ‘Ward Room’ it seemed strangely silent. When on the surface the thump and bang of the Diesels filled the boat, and down below one could always hear the water lapping over the superstructure, and feel the vibration and general sense of resistance and energy. But now she was submerged there was an intense stillness, a sort of dead stillness, and only the faint hum of the motors indicated that she was under weigh. There was no motion, no vibration, and no feeling of strain or energy. She might have been at anchor in harbour, except that the hatches were closed and the steering chain rattled now and again. At one moment noise and rushing water, the next, ‘Diving stations!’ a clang, a hiss or two, and ... silence. The men’s voices drifted in from the after-compartment, and the clatter of knives and forks indicated that the cook was getting breakfast ready. After a while Raymond went back to the control room, inhabited now by only the coxswain and helmsman. ‘Eighteen feet,’ he said. The coxswain spun his wheel until the depth-needles steadied once more. ‘Eighteen feet, sir,’ he announced. At this depth the lowered periscope was just below the surface of the water and still invisible from above. The captain pressed the switch and it slid up to its required height, bringing its upper lens about three feet above the surface, a thin brass cylinder being all that was apparent to any hostile craft. With his eye to the lens at the lower end, Raymond obtained a view much like that seen through ordinary binoculars. As he turned the instrument round he could see the horizon and the wake of the periscope lying astern in creamy bubbles, then the enemy coast about twenty miles away filling the whole of his view to the eastward, then a glimpse of his own hydroplanes, again the horizon and the circle was complete. Nothing in sight. He lowered the periscope, and giving the order ‘thirty feet,’ returned to the fore-compartment and sat down by the chart-table with a magazine. Every ten minutes he went back to the control room, the boat rose to eighteen feet, the periscope was hoisted, and he took his careful survey. Then down to the patrolling depth again and back he went to the silent ‘Ward Room’ to glance at the chart or anything that would pass the time. Towards eight o’clock, the cook came forward to ask Raymond what time he wanted breakfast. ‘Now,’ answered the skipper laconically, picking up the dividers and sticking them into Seagrave’s leg, as the cook departed. The sleeper grunted and turned over. ‘Wake up, young feller,’ said Raymond. ‘Don’t you want any breakfast?’ The ‘Sub.’ sat up and rubbed his eyes. ‘Oh, Lord!’ he groaned. ‘Why can’t you leave a chap alone?’ ‘Come on now; it’s good for children, invalids, and the aged. Shake a leg and let’s get that table out.’ Seagrave staggered over to the folding basin.