Each one of these appeared a hillock interposed before his eyes, leaving free only a few yards of space.

When he was raised upon their crests he could take in with rapid vision the solitary sea that lacked the gallant mass of the ship, astir with dark objects.

These objects were slipping inertly by or moving along, waving pairs of black antennae.

Perhaps they were imploring help, but the wet desert was absorbing the most furious cries, converting them into distant bleating.
Of the _Mare Nostrum_ there was no longer visible either the mouth of the smokestack nor the point of a mast; the abyss had swallowed it all....

Ferragut began to doubt if his ship had ever really existed.
He swam toward a plank that came floating near, resting his arms upon it.