I heard steps on the deck, and the hatchways were re-opened, including mine.
I sprang up the ladder.
The captain had resumed his place at the helm, while the two men were busy below.

I looked to see if the destroyers were still in view.
Yes! Only a quarter of a mile away! The "Terror" had already been seen, and the powerful vessels which enforced the mandates of our government were swinging into position to give chase.

Once more the "Terror" sped in the direction of Niagara River.
I must confess, I could make nothing of this maneuver.

Plunging into a cul-de-sac, no longer able to seek the depths because of the accident, the "Terror" might, indeed, temporarily distance her pursuers; but she must find her path barred by them when she attempted to return.

Did she intend to land, and if so, could she hope to outrun the telegrams which would warn every police agency of her approach?
We were now not half a mile ahead.