might be swept over
the great cataract! That seemed impossible! I resolved to await the
destroyers' closest approach and at the last moment I would decide.

Yet my resolution to escape was but half-hearted. I could not resign
myself thus to lose all chance of following up this mystery. My
instincts as a police official revolted. I had but to reach out my
hand in order to seize this man who had been outlawed! Should I let
him escape me! No! I would not save myself! Yet, on the other hand,
what fate awaited me, and where would I be carried by the "Terror,"
if I remained on board?

It was a quarter past six. The destroyers, quivering and trembling
under the strain of their speed, gained on us perceptibly. They were
now directly astern, leaving between them a distance of twelve or
fifteen cable lengths. The "Terror," without increasing her speed,
saw one of them approach on the port side, the other to starboard.

I did not leave my place. The man at the bow was close by me.
Immovable at the helm, his eyes burning beneath his contracted brows,
the captain waited. He meant, perhaps, to finish the chase by one
last maneuver.

Suddenly, a puff of smoke rose from the destroyer on our left. A
projectile, brushing the surface of the water, passed in front of the
"Terror," and sped beyond the destroyer on our right.

I glanced around anxiously. Standing by my side, the lookout seemed
to await a sign from the captain. As for him, he did not even turn
his head; and I shall never forget the expression of disdain
imprinted on his visage.

At this moment, I was pushed suddenly toward the hatchway of my
cabin, which was fastened above me. At the same instant the other
hatchways were closed; the deck became watertight. I heard a single
throb of the machinery, and the plunge was made, the submarine
disappeared beneath the waters of the lake.

Cannon shot still boomed above us. Their heavy echo reached my ear;
then everything was peace. Only a faint light penetrated through the
porthole into my cabin. The submarine, without the least rolling or
pitching, sped silently through the deeps.

I had seen with what rapidity, and also with what ease the
transformation of the "Terror" had been made. No less easy and rapid,
perhaps, would be her change to an automobile.

And now what would this Master of the World do? Presumably he would
change his course, unless, indeed, he preferred to speed to land, and
there continue his route along