"George Griffith - The Raid of Le Vengeur" - читать интересную книгу автора (Griffith George)

surface of the water in the form of a semi-phosphorescent patch which infallibly betrayed the
whereabouts of the submarine to scouting destroyers and prowling gun-boats. The sinking of a couple of
pounds of dynamite with a time-fuse into this patch would have consequences unspeakable for the crew
of the submarine since no human power could save them from a horrible death.

It as the fear of this discovery that had caused the rigid exclusion of all non-official spectators from the
area of the experiments. Other trials conducted in daylight had further proved that the dim, hazy twilight
of the lower waters was even worse than darkness. In short, the only chance of successful attack lay in
coming to the surface, taking observations, probably under fire, and then sinking and discharging a
torpedo at a venture. This, again, was an operation which could only be conducted with any chance of
success in a smooth sea. In even moderately rough weather it would be absolutely impossible.

It was these difficulties which joined to a thousand exasperatingly stubborn technical details had kept
Captain Flaubert awake for three nights. For him everything depended upon the solution of them. He was
admittedly the best submarine engineer in France. The submarines had been proved to be practically
non-effective. France looked to him to make them effective.

The troubles in the far East and, nearer home, in Morocco, had brought the Dual Alliance and the British
Empire to the verge of war. At any moment something might happen which would shake a few sparks
into the European powder magazine. Then the naval might of Britain would be let loose instantly. In a few
hours her overwhelming fleets would be striking their swift and terrible blows at the nearest
enemy--France--and yet, if he could only give the submarines eyes which could see through the water,
France could send out an invisible squadron which would cripple the British fleets before they left port,
destroy her mightiest battleships and her swiftest cruisers before they could fire a single shot, and so in a
few days clear the Narrow Seas and make way for the invasion of England by the irresistible military
might of France. Then the long spell would be broken, and the proudly boasted Isle Inviolate would be
inviolate no longer.

It was a splendid dream--but, until the submarines could be made to see as well as steer, it was as far
away as aerial navigation itself.

Day was just breaking on the third morning when a luminous ray of inspiration pierced the mists which
hang over the border land of sleep and waking, of mingled dream and reality, amidst which Flaubert's
soul was just then wandering.

He sat bolt upright in his little camp bed, clasped his hands across his close-cropped head, and, hardly
knowing whether he was asleep or awake, heard himself say:

"Nom de Dieu, it is that! What foolishness not to have thought of that before. If we cannot see we must
feel. Electric threads, balanced so as to be the same weight as water--ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred metres
long, all round the boat, ahead and astern, to port and to starboard! Steel ships are magnetic, that is why
they must swing to adjust their compasses."

"The end of each thread shall be a tiny electro-magnet. In-board they will connect with indicators,
delicately swung magnetic needles, four of them, ahead, astern, and on each side; and, as Le
Vengeur--yes, I will call her that, for we have no more forgotten Trafalgar than we have Fashoda--as she
approaches the ships of the enemy, deep hidden under the waters, these threads, like the tentacles of the
octopus, shall spread towards her prey!"

As she gets nearer and nearer they swing round and converge upon the ship that is nearest and biggest.