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. The destroyers pursued us at top
speed, though being now directly behind, they were in poor position
for using their guns. Our captain seemed content to keep this
distance; though it would have been easy for him to increase it, and
then at nightfall, to dodge back behind the enemy.
Already Buffalo had disappeared on our right, and a little after
seven o'clock the opening of the Niagara River appeared ahead. If he
entered there, knowing that he could not return, our captain must
have lost his mind! And in truth was he not insane, this man who
proclaimed himself, who believed himself, Master of the World?
I watched him there, calm, impassive not even turning his head to
note the progress of the destroyers and I wondered at him.
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