I'll go no further, only to say, that all throughout this awful and sickening execution, the battle-ship was going ahead at full speed, lest some of the unhappy wretches should attempt in their agony to clamber back on board again.
When it was all over, the decks were sluiced down, but not properly cleaned, so that blood still lurked dark in cracks and seams.
Then laying down his little pipe, Abdularram, in his jewelled uniform, stalked stately forth from his room.
"They have gone?" he said.
"Yes, sahib."
"Thank Allah! He has delivered His enemies and ours into our hands. Breakfast, and prayers, now, Suleiman."
The breakfast was no mockery, but surely the prayers were.
After all this, well knowing the advantage and restorative power of rest, Abdularram ordered every man who could be spared to lie down and sleep.
And motionless for hours upon the blue bosom of the great deep, lay the midget fleet, and the huge and stately battleship.
CHAPTER XVIII