At four o’clock tea appeared, and the boat came to life once more. Men could be heard passing aft on their way to the meal, and an opening of lockers and clattering of crockery announced the progress of the meal. In the ward room the officers took theirs off the chart-table and talked of mice and men. ‘Seems a bit queer to sit here and eat bread and jam,’ said Boyd, breaking a momentary silence, ‘with all those beggars killed up there, and the rest of them either in a blue funk or dashing about to Gott strafe us. I wonder what they’re up to. Are you going to have another look?’ ‘After tea,’ said Raymond, ‘and then we’ll have to sit down at five o’clock. About twelve fathoms, isn’t it?’ ‘Twelve and a half, I make it,’ replied Boyd. ‘Anyway, quite shallow enough, and only 140 miles from home. Shall we rise at ten o’clock?’ ‘Depends how dark it is. We’ll have to put on a big charge on the way home, and start it as soon as we rise; it won’t do the battery any good to be left as it is now for too long.’ When the meal was cleared away, the boat was brought to eighteen feet and the periscope hoisted once more. ‘All serene-oh,’ said Raymond. ‘They’re about four miles astern, I reckon. Can’t see much but the smoke. Down periscope. Thirty feet. We’ll start periscope watch again,’ he added, turning to Seagrave. ‘Keep a good look out at them.’ Boyd took over the watch, and the old order was re-established, the boat rising to eighteen feet for the ‘look-see’ every ten minutes, and then going down again to thirty feet. Somehow the time dragged on, but it wasn’t very interesting, and every one was looking forward to ten o’clock and fresh air after the day’s turmoils. Then five o’clock arrived, and the crew were once more ordered to diving stations, and Raymond took the periscope and had a final look round. ‘Nothing in sight,’ he announced. ‘Seventy-five feet of water, coxswain, and sixteen feet below us. We ought to ground with about fifty-nine feet on the gauge. Take her down.’ She went down slowly. At thirty feet Raymond stopped the motors and let a little water into the auxiliary through the vent, as she lost weight. ‘How’s the bubble?’ he asked. ‘Midship, sir. She’s horizontal,’ answered the coxswain. The depth-needle crept on. Fifty feet, fifty-five, sixty, sixty-two, and then a light jar was felt and a faint upward pressure on the soles of the feet like a passenger feels when a lift reaches the bottom of the shaft in a Tube station. The boat was on the bottom. ‘Six tons in the auxiliary,’ ordered Raymond. The boat took on a slight list to port and then righted and lay still. The depth-meter was steady at fifty-two feet. ‘Fall out diving stations,’ said the captain. ‘One hand keep watch in the control room and call me if the depth-meter shifts or we take on a list, coxswain.’ The crew dispersed and the officers returned to the ward room.