It was near midnight when the Clubmen were lifted out of the manhole. Their faces were pale, their eyes bloodshot, their figures stooped. Even the Herald Reporter seemed to have got enough of exploring. But Marston was as confident as ever, and tried to be as brisk.
He had hardly swallowed the refreshment so positively enjoined in the circumstances, when he abruptly addressed the Captain:
"What's the weight of your heaviest cannon balls?"
"Thirty pounds, Mr. Marston."
"Can't you attach thirty of them to the Nautilus and sink us again?"
"Certainly, Mr. Marston, if you wish it. It shall be the first thing done to-morrow."
"To-night, Captain! At once! Barbican has not an instant to lose."
"At once then be it, Mr. Marston. Just as you say."
The new sinkers were soon attached to the Nau
