‘She’s not doing much,’ he said, turning to Boyd; ‘not more than about four knots. Can’t afford to smash things up. We’d better get right home, and in this sea we shan’t be there before daylight. Tell Seagrave to call me at four o’clock. He’s got a charge on of five hundred in series, and they’re getting the air up as well. He’ll see to that in the middle watch, though.’ He went below, letting the conning-tower hatch fall behind him, but not quite closing it (for the greedy engines needed air to run on), and prepared to lie down on his bunk. Down below a sorry spectacle met his eyes. The beam sea was causing the boat to roll very heavily, and it was impossible to stand upright without holding on to something. Not the roll of a liner this, nor yet of a destroyer, but more the motion of a quickly-moving pendulum. Right over to port she would roll and then, without an instant’s pause, as far over the other way, bringing down a cloud of books and all sorts of gear that had not been properly lashed up. Whenever a big sea washed clean over her, showers of spray would come down through the small opening in the conning-tower hatch, and once the chest of drawers took charge and slid over on a man who was attempting to sleep on deck. Seagrave and Raymond were nearly rolled out of their bunks, and the racing of the screws caused an added vibration. Men in wet oilskins relieved from the wheel came below dripping, and everything began to get thoroughly damp and soggy. At midnight Seagrave went up to the bridge. On first clambering out of the hatch it seemed as if he were entering a very inferno. Boyd, drenched to the skin, turned over the watch to him and hurried below, leaving him alone with the helmsman. It was still pitch dark and blowing very hard. The rain was pouring down, and she was shipping it green fore and aft, but by-and-by he became more accustomed to it and began to wait for the big ones and dodge them instinctively; however, it was rather a nerve-wracking night, and he hailed with great joy the first glimpse of dawn and with it a moderation of wind and sea. When Raymond came up at four o’clock, the weather was decreasing; the wind was still fresh, but the sea had gone down, and the boat was running more easily. Seagrave wasted no time in getting below. He inspected the batteries, took the densities, and was between the blankets in less than ten minutes. As the light gained strength, Raymond could just make out the faint outline of home, and the sea moderated as they approached the shelter of the bay to the northward. He increased speed, and by seven-thirty they were in smooth water and only ten miles off the harbour. Boyd clambered up to the bridge to assist Raymond to take her in, while Seagrave buzzed round the motors and saw all in readiness for entering port.