All the search-lights suddenly swept together to one point and shone on the top-side of a submarine--or at least on the water thrown up by its top-side.

Only two masts and a thing like a tower were visible, and the plunging shells threw water over those obscuring them every second.

There was a great explosion, whether before or after the beginning of the gun-fire I do not remember, and a ship anchored out on the water no great distance from us heeled over and began to sink.

One search-light was turned on the sinking ship, so that I could see hundreds of men on her running to and fro and jumping; but all the rest of the water was now left in darkness.
The guards who had been set to prevent our landing all ran to another wharf to watch the gun-fire and the sinking ship, and it was at the moment when their backs were turned that two Turkish seamen came down from the bridge and loosed the ropes that held us to the shore.

Then our ship began to move out slowly into the darkness without showing lights or sounding whistle.