Already the flames had lapped the flag, already the outlines of the stern carvings were blurred by the fire.
Another moment, and all would be over.

Ah! it had come at last.

A dull rumbling sound; the burning ship parted asunder; a pillar of fire, flecked with black masses that were beams and planks, rose up out of the ocean; there was a terrific crash, as though sea and sky were coming together; and then a mighty mountain of water rose, advanced, caught, and passed them, and they were alone--deafened, stunned, and breathless, in a sudden horror of thickest darkness, and a silence like that of the tomb.
The splashing of the falling fragments awoke them from their stupor, and then the blue light of the Malabar struck out a bright pathway across the sea, and they knew that they were safe.
* * * * * On board the Malabar two men paced the deck, waiting for dawn.
It came at last.

The sky lightened, the mist melted away, and then a long, low, far-off streak of pale yellow light floated on the eastern horizon.

By and by the water sparkled, and the sea changed colour, turning from black to yellow, and from yellow to lucid green.