At one moment I had the deck of the warship focussed with my glasses,
and could see every detail as the gunners waited for the word to
begin the bombardment with the great guns of the barbettes. The next
I saw nothing but the empty sea. Then in another instant there was
the ship as before, but the details were blurred. I steadied myself
against the signal-gun, and looked again. Not more than two, or at
the most three, seconds had elapsed. The ship was, for the moment,
full in view. As I looked, she gave a queer kind of quick shiver,
prow and stern, and then sideways. It was for all the world like a
rat shaken in the mouth of a skilled terrier. Then she remained
still, the one placid thing to be seen, for all around her the sea
seemed to shiver in little independent eddies, as when water is
broken without a current to guide it.

I continued to look, and when the deck was, or seemed, quite still--
for the shivering water round the ship kept catching my eyes through
the outer rays of the lenses--I noticed that nothing was stirring.
The men who had been at the guns were all lying down; the men in the
fighting-tops had leaned forward or backward, and their arms hung
down helplessly. Everywhere was desolation--in so far as life was
concerned. Even a little brown bear, which had been seated on the
cannon which was being put into range position, had jumped or fallen
on deck, and lay there stretched out--and still. It was evident that
some terrible shock had been given to the mighty war-vessel. Without
a doubt or a thought why I did so, I turned my eyes towards where The
Lady lay, port broadside now to the inside, in the harbour mouth. I
had the key now to the mystery of Rooke's proceedings with the great
grey crab.

As I looked I saw just outside the harbour a thin line of cleaving