My head must have been drawn beneath the water, when I was tangled in the cable.

I should have been suffocated, if someone had not dragged me from the lake.
Now, was I on board the "Terror ?" And was I alone with the Captain and his two men?
This seemed probable, almost certain.

The whole scene of our encounter rose before my eyes, Hart lying wounded upon the bank; Wells firing shot after shot, Walker hurled down at the instant when the grappling hook caught my belt! And my companions?
On their side, must not they think that I had perished in the waters of Lake Erie?
Where was the "Terror" now, and how was it navigating?
Was it moving as an automobile?
Speeding across the roads of some neighboring State?
If so, and if I had been unconscious for many hours, the machine with its tremendous powers must be already far away.

Or, on the other hand, were we, as a submarine, following some course beneath the lake?
No, the "Terror" was moving upon some broad liquid surface.

The sunlight, penetrating my cabin, showed that the window was not submerged.