I look fearfully across at the terrifying wall of water, which is drawing closer with each passing second, and still growing in thickness as the roof is pulled back further. Not even the Ark – a vessel over several hundred feet long, and which not even the Great Flood could destroy – will be able to withstand the sheer force of the falling water, which is over twice the length of the Ark. It will smash the Ark into a thousand pieces, and I dread to think what it will do to flesh and bone.

While I stand mute, my hands trembling in terror, Francesca drains the water from her lantern and refits it with a fresh wick and oil she produces from her pack. Having lit the lantern and waited for Blodklutt – the only other remaining member of our company to still have a lantern – to do likewise, she grabs me by the arm and pulls me after her. ‘We won’t stand a chance out here on the deck. We need to find the safest part of the ship. And it’s not going to be here – in the open, where the waterfall will hit us with the force of an avalanche. We need to get inside the Ark and find somewhere safe. So let’s move!’ she says.

Blodklutt and Armand help von Konigsmarck to his feet before following our lead. We move around the side of the Ark, searching for a means of entry into the three-storey high building set atop the deck of the vessel like some great wooden hall. Not long passes before we come across a massive wooden door, approximately halfway down the length of the building. Putting our shoulders against it, we manage to push it open. With a terrified glance over my shoulder at the thundering waterfall – which is now no more than fifteen yards away – I race after my companions into the Ark, slamming the door behind me.

In the eerie glow cast by our lanterns, we sprint along a small corridor that runs perpendicular to a larger, central corridor, which appears to run the entire length of the Ark and is bordered by hundreds of stables and pens. Reaching this larger corridor, we turn right and follow Francesca towards a central junction, where smaller corridors span off to the left and right. There is also a central stairwell with separate ascending and descending flights of stairs that give access to the upper and lower levels of the Ark.

‘We need to get down to the lower levels,’ Francesca says, making for the descending stairs.

‘Down? Don’t you mean up?’ von Konigsmarck asks, clutching his wounded chest and struggling to keep pace with the tomb-robber.

‘No, we need to go down,’ Francesca calls over her shoulder, reaching the stairs and bounding down them five at a time. ‘If the Ark capsizes, then the bottom of this ship is going to become the top. Where we are currently standing will be flooded, but air will be caught in the hold. If we can get to the bottom of the Ark before it flips, we should be safe.’

‘I feel as though I’m descending into the belly of a whale again,’ Armand moans, pulling up sharply at the top of the stairs. His eyes dart around the stables and pens spanning off the central corridor as he searches for some other way out; the Frenchman evidently scarred by his experience aboard the Drebbel.

‘Like it or not, this is our only way out of this,’ Francesca says. ‘Stay here and you will surely die.’

‘Francesca’s right,’ I say, grabbing Armand by the sleeve, and pulling him down the stairs. ‘Think of a cup that you invert and submerge in water. Air remains trapped inside it. This will be no different.’

‘I have a very bad feeling about this,’ Armand says, his voice heavy with foreboding.

Just as I’m about to give Armand greater encouragement we are almost knocked off our feet as the Ark, caught in the waterfall, is pulled sharply to the left. Knowing that it will only be a matter of seconds before we are sucked into the wall of water, we grab hold of the supporting stair-rail and brace ourselves. Our ears ringing in the deafening roar, we stare expectantly at one another, waiting for the inevitable impact.

There’s a tremendous crash as the full force of the Dead Sea hammers down on the left-hand side of the vessel – the first section of the Ark to be dragged in – which shudders violently, forcing us to cling on for dear life. Unable to remain stable in such extreme conditions, the Ark lurches sharply again to the left, pushed down by the force of the water. With each passing second, the waterfall forces the left-hand side of the Ark to sink deeper and deeper into the water, until we are clinging on to the stairwell in an almost vertical position. Then, as a terrified scream is caught in my throat, the Ark capsizes.