"Do you consider these buoys powerful enough to lift the Projectile,
Captain?" he asked next morning, as the vessel was briskly heading
southward, at a distance of ten or twelve miles from the coast on their
left.
"You can easily calculate that problem yourself, Mr. Marston," replied
the Captain. "It presents no difficulty. The Projectile weighs about 20
thousand pounds, or 10 tons?"
"Correct!"
"Well, a pair of these buoys when inflated can raise a weight of 30
tons."
"So far so good. But how do you propose attaching them to the
Projectile?"
"We simply let them descend in a state of collapse; the diver, going
down with them, will have no difficulty in making a fast connection. As
soon as they are inflated the Projectile will come up like a cork."
"Can the divers readily reach such depths?"
"That remains to be seen Mr. Marston."
"Captain," said Morgan, now joining the party, "you are a worthy member
of our Gun Club. You have done wonders. Heaven grant it may not be all
in vain! Who knows if our poor friends are still alive?"
"Hush!" cried Marston quickly. "Have more sense than to ask such
questions. Is Barbican alive! Am _I_ alive? They're all alive, I tell
you, only we must be quick about reaching them before the air gives out.
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