The Titania and the approaching vessel cleared each other easily, but Villiers had little time to pay further attention to her. Ahead were a number of dhows, strung out in an irregular line, practically motionless in the flat calm.
"Good heavens, what's that!" ejaculated Bobby. "There's an almighty smash."
How it occurred was a mystery, but the fact remained that the overtaking liner and the vessel that had just passed the Titania were in collision. It was one of those instances that have taken place and will take place in the future—unaccountable yet none the less disastrous. In clear weather and in a perfectly calm sea two steamers crashed into each other.
Above the noise of grinding steel and the hiss of escaping steam came a clamorous panic-stricken yell from hundreds of throats.
"Not British this time," commented Jack, as he ordered the helm to be put hard over and the boats swung out ready for lowering.
"Get the searchlights running, Bobby," he added, "and inform the Old Man."
But the Old Man was at that moment bounding up the companion-ladder, a conspicuous figure in his white drill uniform.
Directly the two brilliant beams of the searchlights were brought into action Harborough took in the situation at a glance.
One of the colliding vessels was a liner. She was badly damaged for'ard and was deep down by the bows. The other, a chartered Belgian steamer conveying Mussulman pilgrims to Jiddah, the port of the Holy City of Mecca, had already sunk, having been cut completely in two by the impact.
"Have those boats swung inboard again, Mr. Villiers," he ordered. "We'll lay right alongside that fellow. There'll be time before she goes."