The sea seemed thick with boats pulling steadily away, and in every direction the searchlights of the escorting destroyers wheeled and flashed, as they rushed in circles, hunting for the submarine which had struck the blow.

But the ‘Cardigan Castle’ was empty and deserted.  With that marvellous speed which only perfect discipline ensures, every soul had already been got away into the boats.  So far as he could see, Ken was left alone on the fast sinking ship.

Even so, he was not ungrateful.  If he had to perish, it was far better to drown in the open than to come to his end like a trapped rat down below.

‘Ken!  Ken!’

Some one came rushing up into the searchlight’s glare.

It was Dave Burney.

‘I’ve been hunting the ship out for you,’ exclaimed Dave breathlessly.

‘I got locked in the bathroom,’ Ken answered quickly.  ’No time to explain now.  Tell you afterwards.  I say, old man, it was jolly good of you to wait for me, but I’m afraid you’ve overdone it.  All the boats are away.’

’Hang the boats!  Here—­put this on.  Sharp, for she won’t last more’n a couple of minutes.’

As he spoke, he flung Ken one of the life-saving waistcoats which are now used instead of the old-fashioned lifebelts.

‘It’s all right,’ he added, as he saw Ken glance at him sharply.  ’I’ve got one, too.’

Ken did not waste a moment in slipping on the queer garment, and blowing it up.

‘This way,’ said Dave, as he scrambled up the steep deck to the weather rail.  Ken followed, and they had barely reached the rail when the big liner rolled slowly over on to her side.

Dave sprang out on to her steel side which was now perfectly level.

‘Hurry!’ he shouted.  ’She’ll pull us down if we’re not clear before she sinks.’

He sprang out into the water.  Ken followed his example, and the two paddled vigorously away.  Luckily for them, the ship did not sink at once.  She lay upon her beam ends for four or five minutes, and gave them time to get to a safe distance.  They were perhaps forty yards away when there came a loud, hissing, gurgling sound.

‘She’s going!’ cried Ken.  Turning, he saw her stern tilt slowly upwards.  Then, with hardly a sound, the fine ship slid slowly downwards, and a minute later there was no sign of her except a great eddy in which swung a tangled mass of timber, lifebelts, canvas chairs, and all sorts of floating objects from the decks.

[Illustration:  ‘He sprang into the water.’]

‘The brutes!’ growled Dave.  ’This means that the Turks have got submarines.’

’I doubt it.  That was probably the work of an Austrian or German craft.  Well, thank goodness, they only got the ship and not the men.’

‘Ay, we’ll get our own back for this before we’re through,’ growled Dave.  ‘My word, but it’s cold!  Hope they’re not going to be long picking us up.’