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.'