There came a flash of lightning, and in its glare Tom saw something that caused him to cry out.
"Look!" he shouted. "The submarine. She's dragged her anchors!"
The Advance was much closer to the warship than she had been that afternoon. Captain Weston looked over the side.
"It's the San Paulo that's dragging her anchors, not the submarine!" he shouted. "We're bearing down on her! We must act quickly. Come on, we'll lower the boat!"
In the rush of wind and the dash of rain the prisoners crowded to the accommodation companion ladder, which was still over the side of the big ship. No one seemed to be noticing them, for Admiral Fanchetti was on the bridge, yelling orders for the clearing away of the wreckage. But Lieutenant Drascalo, coming up from below at that moment, caught sight of the fleeing ones. Drawing his sword, he rushed at them, shouting:
"The prisoners! The prisoners! They are escaping!"
Captain Weston leaped toward the lieutenant.
"Look out for his sword!" cried Tom. But the doughty sailor did not fear the weapon. Catching up a coil of rope, he cast it at the lieutenant. It struck him in the chest, and he staggered back, lowering his sword.
