The captain stretched out his arm from the bridge and shouted. A
minute later I would have given a great deal to have shouted too, for
one-half of the sea seemed to shoulder itself above the other half,
and came on in the shape of a hill. There was neither crest, comb,
nor curl-over to it; nothing but black water with little waves
chasing each other about the flanks. I saw it stream past and on a
level with the _Rathmines_' bow-plates before the steamer hove up
her bulk to rise, and I argued that this would be the last of all
earthly voyages for me. Then we lifted for ever and ever and ever,
till I heard Keller saying in my ear, 'The bowels of the deep, good
Lord!' and the _Rathmines_ stood poised, her screw-racing and
drumming on the slope of a hollow that stretched downwards for a good
half-mile.

We went down that hollow, nose under for the most part, and the air
smelt wet and muddy, like that of an emptied aquarium. There was a
second hill to climb; I saw that much: but the water came aboard and
earned me aft till it jammed me against the wheel-house door, and
before I could catch breath or clear my eyes again we were rolling to
and fro in torn water, with the scuppers pouring like eaves in a
thunderstorm.

'There were three waves,' said Keller; 'and the stokehold's flooded.'

The firemen were on deck waiting, apparently, to be drowned.
The engineer came and dragged them below, and the crew, gasping,
began to work the clumsy Board of Trade pump. That showed nothing
serious, and when I understood that the _Rathmines_ was really on the
water, and not beneath it, I asked what had happened.