The blue and luminous air was rent with the thud of a thunderclap.

Near the prow, appeared a column of smoke, of expanding gases of yellowish and fulminating steam and, coming up through its center in the form of a fan, a spout of black objects, broken wood, bits of metallic plates and flaming ropes turning to ashes.
Ulysses was no longer in doubt.

They must have just been struck by a torpedo.

His anxious look scanned the waters.
"There!...

There!" he said, pointing with his hand.
His keen seaman's eyes had just discovered the light outline of a periscope that nobody else was able to see.
He ran down from the bridge or rather he slid down the midship ladder, running toward the stern.
"There!...