"Sail Ho!" (continued 8)

This was terrible; for aught I knew he might be standing there listening as he kept his uneasy watch, and for some minutes I dared not stir.

At last though, to my great delight, I heard a step overhead, and now without farther hesitation I stepped out, hurried to the cabin at the end, guided by the light which came through the nearly closed door, entered, and shut it behind me before looking round.

A lamp hung from the ceiling, there was spirit in a flask, and the remains of some food upon the table; but what most delighted me was the sight of three guns lying on a locker near to the cabin-window, which was wide open, and I felt that I should only have to show myself for the boat to be rowed beneath.

My first want was a rope or line, my next a supply of ammunition for the guns, and there was neither.

I felt ready to stamp, with vexation, for I might easily have brought a line wrapped round me, but neither Mr Brymer nor the others had thought of this, and unless I could find a fishing-line in one of the lockers, I felt that I should have to go back on deck.

At that moment I remembered that Captain Berriman had a number of small flags in one of the lockers—that beneath the window. Four or five of those tied together would answer my purpose for lowering the guns, and if tied to the window they would be strong enough for me to slide down.

I lifted the locker-lid, and there they were, quite a bed of them in the bottom of the great convenient store of objects not in everyday use.

That got over one difficulty, but there was that of the ammunition, and turning to the locker on my left I looked in that, to find plenty of odds and ends of provisions, for it had become quite a store-room, but no cartridges.

“Where can they be?” I muttered, as I stood holding the locker-lid and gazing round the cabin for a likely spot for Jarette to have stowed them ready for an emergency, when I heard his step so suddenly overhead that I started in alarm to leave for my place of concealment, when the lid of the locker slipped from my hand and fell with a smart rap.

I felt that I was lost—that it would be impossible for me to get to the cabin and hide before he reached the companion-way, alarmed as he would be by the sound, and looking frantically round I was for leaping into the cot and drawing the curtains, but another thought struck me just as I heard his step, and lifting the lid of the locker beneath the window, I slipped in upon the flags, and let the cover down and shut me in.

The moment I was lying there in the darkness, the place just seeming big enough to hold me lying upon my back with my knees drawn up, I felt that I had done a mad thing, for Jarette would immediately come to the conclusion that it was the shutting down of a locker which made the sound, and come straight to the one I was in, open it, and drag me out. It was too hot, and I could feel that in a few minutes I should be suffocated if he did not find me. That he had entered the cabin I had ample proof, for I heard him move something on the table quite plainly, while directly he came to the locker where I was, and I heard a noise. It was the thump, thump made by his knees as he got upon the lid to kneel upon it and look out of the window.

My heart gave a bound; he did not know then that I was hiding there. But the next moment I was in despair, for the heat was intense, my breath was coming short and painful, and Jarette made no sign of leaving what promised to be my tomb.

Chapter Thirty Eight.

I bore it as long as I could, and then I was on the point of shrieking out and striking at the lid of the locker, when I heard a movement over my head, Jarette stepped down, and I forced the lid open a little way, and drew a long deep breath.

I don’t believe that the air was any better, but there was the idea of its being purer, and the horror of suffocation which had nearly driven me frantic was gone.

I have often wondered since that he did not hear or see the movement of the lid, but his attention was probably taken up by something else, and I heard him go out into the saloon, and then on through the companion-way to the deck.

I opened the lid a little more and peered out, breathing freely now as I kept the locker open with my head; and to my horror I saw that he had left the door wide open, so that with the lamp burning it was impossible for me to get out without the risk of being seen.

But I felt relieved, for I could breathe freely now, and I lay still with the lid raised, listening for Jarette’s uneasy step as he came and went, and thinking of how easy it was to make plans, and how difficult to carry them out. I knew that if we were going to try and obtain the mastery once more we must act at once, for a fresh breeze would separate us at once, and the chance be gone. But how could we do it without weapons?

How I lay puzzling my brains as to where the cartridges could be! I recalled how Walters had stolen them, and he must have carried them forward, where the main portion would be stowed somewhere; but all the same I felt that Jarette would, for certain, have some in this or one of the other cabins, ready for use in case of emergency. But where?

I tried very hard, but I could not think it out, and at last lay there quite despondent and feeling in no hurry to stir, for it only meant going back to the boat to say that I had failed.

There was Walters, of course, but he was insensible, and it was not likely that I could get any information from him. No; the case was hopeless. I had failed, and all my hopes of our gallant little party storming the deck and carrying all before them were crushed.

By degrees, though, the mental wind changed the course of that peculiar weathercock, one’s mind, and I felt better.

Violence would not do, so why not try cunning?

How?

Well, I thought, if I could so easily steal on board, and get actually into the cabin, it must surely be possible for Mr Brymer, Mr Frewen, and two of the men to get up, wait their opportunity, and, in spite of his pistols, seize and master Jarette.

“That’s it,” I said to myself; “the only chance. How could I be so stupid as not to think of it before?”

All excitement again, I was now eager to get back to the boat, so that my friends might take advantage of the darkness, and carry out my plans before morning came. For another night would perhaps prove to be too clear.

I raised the lid a little higher and looked out, but the table was too much in the way for me to see more than the top of the other door-way, and this encouraged me, for that worked two ways—if I could not see out into the saloon, Jarette could not see the locker. But all the same I was afraid to get out. It was so light in the cabin, and everywhere else was so dark, that if he were on deck, and looking in my direction, he would be sure to see what took place.

Then I concluded that I could do nothing till the door was closed, and as soon as an opportunity offered itself, I determined to creep out, and at all risks draw that door to, trusting to Jarette thinking that the closing was caused by the motion of the ship as it gently rocked upon the swell.

At last as I lay there, for minutes which seemed to be hours, I heard my enemy talking loudly, and I knew that he must be speaking to the men in the forecastle.

That would do. He could see nothing now, for between us there were the main and foremasts, and plenty besides—the galley and water-cask, and the long cabin-like range upon the top of which our boat had lain in the chocks.

I crept over the side after propping up the lid, went upon hands and knees to the door, readied out and touched it. That was sufficient: it swung upon its hinges so that Jarette could easily imagine that the motion of the ship had caused the change.

The next minute, still keeping the locker open ready to form a retreat for me in case of necessity, I leaned right out as far as I could, and bending down, strained my eyes, trying to cut the darkness as I whispered sharply—

“Are you there?”

“Yes; got them?” came from the boat, though to me the voice came out of the black darkness.

“No cartridges,” I whispered. “Come closer. No—keep back.”

I said that, not that I knew anything, but I had a kind of impression that Jarette was returning, and dropping down into the locker once more, I lowered the lid, but this time not quite close, for I thrust in a bit of one of the flags, so that there was room for a little air to get in, and that and possibly the idea that I could not be suffocated, made me more at my ease.

I waited some little time, and then began to grow impatient; feeling sure that I had fancied his coming and taken alarm at nothing, I determined to lift the lid and get some fresh air, but I did not stir just then, only lay still, finding my position terribly irksome. I could not hear well either, and at last I began to move cautiously to peer out, when to my horror there was a sharp blow delivered on the lid of the locker, and then another probably given with the butt of a revolver, and Jarette exclaimed fiercely—

“Hang the rats!”

I lay back, breathless, expecting that he would hear the dull heavy throb of my pulses, while I trembled violently, thinking that all was over, and that he was trifling with me, and knew all the while that I was lying there. But by degrees I grew calmer. There were rats enough in the hold. I had heard them, and why should he not have attributed the slight rustling noise I made to one of the mischievous little animals?

At last, to satisfy my doubts, I heard him come and kneel upon the locker again, as if looking out of the cabin-window.

He stayed some minutes, and I began to think that he must see the boat; but I soon set that idea aside and felt that it was absurd, for if he had seen the boat he certainly would either have shouted to warn its occupants away, or fired at them.

“He feels that he is not safe,” I said to myself at last, and to my great relief he got down, muttering to himself, and I could tell by the sound that he was at the table, for I heard a clink of glass, the gurgling of liquor out of a bottle, and then quite plainly the noise he made in drinking before he set down the glass and uttered a loud “Hah!”

Just then I heard voices from forward, loud laughing and talking.

“Curse them, what are they doing now?” exclaimed Jarette, loudly. “Oh, if I had only one man I could trust!”

He hurried out of the cabin, and I did not flinch now from opening the lid and looking out, to find that the door had swung to as soon as he had passed through.

The noise was so boisterous forward that I crept out, pushed the door, and stood in the dark saloon, where I could still see the line of light at the bottom of Miss Denning’s cabin as I crept to the companion, and, excited by curiosity, slipped aside to where I could shelter under the bulwark and see what was going on.

There were lanterns now by the big hatch in front of the main-mast, and I could see quite a group of men at whom Jarette was storming.

It was a curious weird-looking scene there in the darkness, for the men’s faces stood out in the lantern-light, and in spite of their fear of their leader they were laughing boisterously.

“You dogs,” he roared; “not a drop more. Go back to your kennel.”

“Mus’ have little drop more, skipper,” cried one of the men.

“No,” he roared, “not a drop, and it shall be allowances from this night.”

“But there’s heaps o’ good stuff spoiling, skipper.”

“I’ll spoil you, you dog,” snarled Jarette, and I saw him snatch a lantern from one of the men and lean down, holding the light over the open hold. “Hi! below there,” he roared; “leave that spirit-keg alone, and come up.”

In the silence which ensued I heard a muffled muttering come from below, and Jarette dropped upon his knees to hold the lantern right down in the open hold, while the light struck up and made his face and his actions plain from where I stood watching.

“Once more, do you hear? Come up and leave that spirit, or I’ll fetch you with a bullet.”

“Better come up, mate,” shouted one of the men.

“You hold your tongue,” snarled Jarette to the speaker. “Now then, will you come, or am I to fire?”

There was no reply, and Jarette spoke once more in quite a calm, gentle, persuasive voice.

“I say, will you leave that spirit-keg alone and come up?”

Still no answer, and Jarette turned his head to the group of men.

“That’s a fresh keg broached. Who did it?” he said slowly. “I said no more was to be taken. I say—who broached that keg?”

“Oh, well, it was all on us, skipper. You see we couldn’t do nothing in this calm,” said the man who had before spoken, and who seemed to be the most sensible of the group.

“Then you all broke my orders,” cried Jarette, hastily now, “and you shall all see how I punish a man for breaking my orders.”

I looked on as if spellbound, forgetting the boat and my mission as I crouched there in the dark, feeling that a tragedy was at hand, though I could not grasp all and divine that this was the crowning-point of the mutiny.

For Jarette bent right down over the open hold, lowering the lantern, whose light played upon the barrel of a pistol.

“Now,” he cried, “once more, will you come up and leave that spirit-barrel, or am I to fire?”

“Fire away,” came up in muffled tones, but quite defiantly, and as the last word reached my ear there was the sharp report of the pistol, whose flash shone out brighter than the lantern. Then a horrible cry came from below, and for a few moments I could see nothing for the smoke which hung in the air. But from out of it came an excited burst of talking and yelling.

“Stand back,” roared Jarette. “I have five more shots ready, and you see I can hit. Serve the scoundrel right.”

“But look, look!” shouted the man who had spoken before; and as the smoke dispersed, I saw him pointing down into the hold, while the other men, sobered now, stood huddled together in alarm.

Then with a wild yell of horror one of them threw up his hands, shouting “Fire, fire!” ran forward, while a fearful figure suddenly appeared at the mouth of the hold, climbed on deck, and then shrieking horribly, also ran forward with Jarette and the others in full pursuit.

Chapter Thirty Nine.

It was a horrible sight, one which made me cling to the bulwarks absolutely paralysed, for the man who had climbed on deck was one mass of blue and yellow flames, which flickered and danced from foot to shoulder, and in those brief moments I realised that he must have fallen and overset the spirit-keg when Jarette fired, saturated his garments, and no doubt the fallen lantern had set all instantaneously in a blaze.

It was impossible to stir. My legs trembled, and every shriek uttered by the poor wretch, as he ran wildly here and there, thrilled me through and through. One moment it seemed as if he were coming headlong toward me, and I felt that discovery was inevitable; but before he reached the open hold, he dashed across the deck to the starboard bulwark, turned and ran forward again shrieking more loudly than ever, while the rapid motion through the air made the flames burn more furiously, and I could distinctly hear them flatter and roar.

His messmates, headed by Jarette, were not idle; they shouted to him to stop; they chased him, and some tried to cut him off here and there; but as if the idea of being stopped maddened him, the poor wretch shifted, dodged, and avoided them in the most wonderful manner, shrieking more wildly than ever, as a man who had been below suddenly confronted him with a tarpaulin to fling round him and smother the flames.

At last, with the sharp tongues of fire rising above his head, he made one maddened rush forward, and the whole of the party in pursuit; while his cries, and the sight of the man dashing on like a living torch through the darkness of that awful night, made me long to close my eyes and stop my ears. But I could not—it was impossible. I could only cling helplessly to that bulwark, praying for the power to help, but unable to stir.

It takes long to describe all this, but it was only a matter of a minute or two, before, with the flames rushing up to a point above his head and streaming behind him, he rushed for the bows.

I grasped in an instant what he intended to do, and felt that at last I could act. For, seeing that he meant to leap overboard, I made a start to run back to the cabin and shout to those in the boat to pick him up, when he caught his foot in a rope, and fell upon the deck with a heavy thud; and before he could rise, the man with the oilskin overcoat flung it over him, rolled him over and over in it, and extinguished the flames.

In the midst of the loud talking which followed, I heard Jarette’s voice above all the rest.

“It was his own fault,” he cried. “Here, carry him below. I shall not take the blame.”

“But you shot at and hit him,” growled a man angrily.

“As I will at you, you dog,” roared Jarette, “if you disobey my orders. Quick!—get him below.”

I saw Jarette bend down to the moaning man, for two of the crew held lanterns over him; and then, as they were all crowding down the hatchway, I hurried into the cabin, closed the door after me, and going to the window, I leaned out, and called in a whisper to Mr Brymer, but there was no answer.

I called again and again, raising my voice till, had any one been on deck, there must have been an alarm raised; but still there was no reply from the boat, and feeling at last that my companions must have rowed along by the ship to try and find out what was the matter, I was about to go back and run along till I could hail them and implore the doctor to come on board to try and save the poor wretch’s life, when, all at once, there was the faint splash of an oar, and Mr Brymer exclaimed—

“Ah, at last! I was afraid you were being hunted. What were they doing? What was the meaning of those cries, and the torches they were rushing about the deck with?”

I explained in few words, and, saying I would fetch a rope, implored Mr Frewen to come up and help the poor creature.

“Come? Of course I will, Dale,” he said; “but it seems curious work to do—help the men who have sent us adrift on the ocean in an open boat.”

“Yes,” I cried excitedly; “but wait while I get a rope.”

“Yes; quick, my lad,” said Mr Brymer. “It is our only opportunity.”

I made no attempt now at concealment, but ran through the saloon, and out on the deck, to secure the first coil of rope I could find.

I got hold of one directly, not neatly coiled, but tumbled down anyhow; and then, looking forward to see if any one was on deck, I was conscious of a dull bluish glow, which I attributed to the lights by the forecastle-hatch, from which I could hear a low muttering of voices dominated by Jarette’s sharp angry snapping.

Then grasping the fact that there appeared to be no one on deck, I ran back into the dark saloon, tapped smartly on the door of Miss Denning’s cabin, cried, “Help coming!” and darted through the door, closing it after me.

“Got a rope?” came from below; and my answer was to lower it down as quickly as I could before passing it twice round the legs of the fixed table.

Then came a sharp whisper—

“All fast?”

“Yes; all right,” I said; and the next moment Bob Hampton was climbing in.

“Sent me to help you, my lad. Hooroar! the ship’s our own again.”

In another minute Barney was up alongside, and he was followed by Mr Frewen and Mr Brymer. These all seized guns.

“They’re not loaded,” I said sadly.

“Never mind, my lad; appearances go a long way,” said Mr Brymer. “The scoundrels will not know. Now then, pick up something for a weapon, Dale, if it’s only the cabin poker.”

“Are you going to fight?” I said in a low tone. “I thought you were going to help that poor wretch.”

“I can attend him as well when he is our prisoner, Dale, as if we were Jarette’s.”

“Of course,” I said excitedly. “But hadn’t you better have Dumlow too?”

“Can’t climb up, my lad,” said Bob Hampton, in a husky whisper; “and Mr Preddle’s too fat.”

“Ready?” said Mr Brymer.

“Ay, ay,” came from the men, and “Yes” from Mr Frewen.

“Then come on.”

The mate threw open the door to lead the way, and then hesitated for a moment or two, for the saloon was flooded by a pale bluish light.

“I hoped we should have darkness on our side,” he said, “but—”

“Look, look!” I cried wildly; “the ship’s on fire.”

We all ran to the companion together, three on one side of the saloon-table, two on the other; while I could hardly believe my eyes as I saw flooding up from beyond the main-mast great soft waves of bluish fire.

“It is the casks of spirits in the hold,” cried Mr Brymer, excitedly. “They’ve done for it at last. But come on quickly: we can pass that without getting much harm; and as soon as we have secured the scoundrels, we must try the pump and hose.”

We tried to go along the starboard side, but the flames came out in such strong pulsations there, that we were obliged to cross to the port side, where there seemed to be about ten feet clear.

“Now then,” cried Mr Brymer; “they’re all below, and have not taken the alarm. A quick rush, and we have them.”

He was half-way along the clear pathway formed along the deck between the flames floating up from the hold and the port bulwark, and his figure stood up strangely unreal against the bluish light, when there was a heavy report below in the hold, and a rush of flame which extended from side to side of the ship. But after the report there was no roar or crackling sound of burning, for the blue and orange flames came pulsing up in great waves silent and strange, the quiet mastery they had attained being appalling.

The explosion—that of a spirit-cask, one of the many in the hold—brought up the men from the forecastle, wild with excitement; but we only saw them for, a moment, and then they were screened from us by the fire, which was singularly clear from smoke, and rose steadily upward and away from the main-mast, whose sails hung down motionless in the calm.

We all stood motionless, unable to grasp the extent of this new calamity, and listened to the yelling and shouting of the frightened men, who now broke loose entirely from the slight control Jarette had held principally by means of his revolver. For death in a more horrible form threatened them than that from the pistol which had held them in subjugation, and with one consent they all began to shout the word “Boats!”

Just then there was the report of a pistol, and Jarette’s voice rose loud and clear.

“Silence—idiots—fools!” he shouted. “It is your own doing, and now you want to run away and leave a good ship and all its valuable cargo—ours, do you hear?—all ours—to burn. Bah!”

“The boats, quick!—the boats!” shouted one of the men.

“Throw that fool overboard, some of you,” cried Jarette, contemptuously; “he has not the spirit of a mouche. Bah! what is it? A cask or two of spirit in the hold. Come along, brave lads. The pumps and buckets; we will soon make grog of the spirits, and it will cease to burn.”

“No, no! The boats!” cried two or three. “We are all lost!”

“Yes, if you do not obey,” cried Jarette, speaking slowly through his teeth, and with a very marked French accent, as he did when greatly excited. “I go not to lose our great prize, for which I have fought and won. Every man now a bucket, and you four to the pump and hose.”

“Draw back a little,” whispered Mr Brymer; “they have not seen us.”

“Shall we get buckets, sir?” said Bob Hampton in a gruff whisper.

“No; it is useless. There are nearly fifty of those casks of strong spirits there below, and no efforts of ours could stop that fire.”

“But you will not let it burn without an effort?” whispered Mr Frewen.

“I shall let it burn, sir, without an effort,” said Mr Brymer, drawing back, and leading Mr Frewen toward the companion, I being so close that I could hear every word, which was only intended for the doctor’s ears. “I’ll tell you why,” he said. “As those casks burst, the spirit will run through the cargo in all directions, the flame will glide along the surface, and as the spirit heats, the hold will be full of inflammable gas, which will keep on exploding.”

“Yes,” said Mr Frewen, angrily; “but an abundance of water—”

“Would not stop the flashing of that spirit here and there, doctor, till, sooner or later, it reaches the blasting-powder. That must be reached, and then the ship will be rent open.”

“Great heaven!” cried Mr Frewen.

“And the fire will be extinguished then. My good sir, with a well-trained crew, working calmly, we might perhaps reach the powder and cast it overboard; but, situated as we are now, any efforts of ours would be worse than folly.”

“Then—the boat!”

“Yes, but don’t hurry or grow excited; the vessel may burn a day or two before the final calamity comes. We have plenty of time to do our duty.”

“Yes, I understand,” said Mr Frewen, and he hurried towards the saloon.

“Aren’t we going to try and put out the fire, Mr Brymer, sir?” said Bob Hampton.

“No, my lad; we’ll leave that to Jarette and his gang. Come and help.”

By this time we had reached the cabin-door, from beneath which the faint light shone, and Mr Frewen exclaimed—

“Are you there, Miss Denning?”

“Yes, yes,” she cried eagerly. “Pray, pray help us.”

“Yes. One minute; is the door locked on the inside?”

“Yes,” came from within, in company with a sharp snapping sound which was repeated, while the doctor felt outside, and convinced himself that it was secured there too, and that we had no means of unfastening it.

“Stand back from the door, right to the other side of the cabin,” said Mr Frewen, and, drawing back some distance, he ran at the panel, raised his foot, struck it just above the handle, and it was driven right off, and he saw Miss Denning standing there, pale and large-eyed, holding a little taper in her hand, while in the bed-place lay her brother, gazing at us wildly, but for his countenance to change and become restful and calm as he saw that he was in the presence of friends.

“I told you they would not desert us, Lena,” he said faintly; and then his head sank back as if he were too weak to raise it from the pillow.

Mr Frewen stepped close up to the bed-place as I joined Mr Denning and laid my hand in his, for his eyes had seemed to invite me to come to him. Then, as if I had not been there, he whispered quickly to the invalid—

“Denning, you don’t like me, but we are in a perilous strait. Believe me, I will do everything man can for you and your sister now. Will you trust me?”

“Yes.”

Mr Frewen turned to Miss Denning, and said firmly—

“Dress quickly, as if for a long journey.” She looked at him wonderingly. “Yes,” he said, and his voice sounded almost harsh. “In five minutes or less you must both be down in the boat. Hat, cloak, waterproof, and any necessary that you think may be useful. Nothing more. You understand?”

She bowed, and began hurriedly to collect the few things she required, while, without waiting to be told, I dragged pillow and blankets from the cot, and ran out with them to the stern-window, beneath which I could plainly see the boat now.

“Mr Preddle—Dumlow,” I cried, “stow these aft;” and I threw down the articles I had brought, and went to fetch others from the cabin, passing Bob Hampton and Barney, who were collecting everything they could find in the way of provisions, tins, bottles, bags, from the captain’s stores, and throwing them down.

By the time I was back, Miss Denning was ready, and she was about to help her brother, but he hung back.

“No, no,” he said. “Take her first, Frewen.”

She would have resisted, but I said quickly—“The ship is on fire; we must not lose a moment. Pray come.”

She put her hand in mine, and I led her through the saloon, now full of a lurid light, and into the captain’s cabin, where the rope still hung down.

“Be ready to help, Mr Preddle,” I said, as I hauled it up, and handed the end to Bob Hampton, who came in loaded.

“Make a loop, Bob, and help lower Miss Denning down.”

“That I will, my dear lad,” he said, shooting his load on one of the lockers. “Don’t you be skeart, but just you trust to me. That’s your sort,” he cried, as he passed the rope round her, and knotted it. “Now then, you’ll just take a tight grip of the rope there with both hands, and trust to me, just as if I was going to give you a swing.”

“I’ll trust you, Hampton,” she said, with a quiet smile.

“That’s right, miss; you’ll be like a baby in my arms. Now, Barney, boy, lay hold of the rope. Nay, you needn’t, she’s light as a feather. Give way to me, my dear, just as if I was your father, and I’ll lower you right enough.”

I could not help thinking how pretty and gentle and brave she looked as she left herself in Bob’s hands, while he knelt on the locker, lifted her up, passed her out of the cabin-window, held for a moment or two by the knot, and then gently lowered her down.

“Done lovely,” said Bob. “Better let Neb Dumlow cast off the rope, Mr Preddle, sir. You can hand the lady into the starn arter-wards. That’s your sort, sir,” as he hauled up. “Why, some gals would ha’ kicked and squealed and made no end o’ fuss. Want this for Mr Denning, shan’t us?”

“Yes,” I said, and at that moment, supporting the poor fellow below the arms, Mr Frewen and the mate helped Mr Denning into the cabin, panting heavily even from that little exertion.

“I’ll be—as quick—as I can,” he sighed. “There is no hurry,” said Mr Brymer, quietly; “we have a wall of fire between us and our enemies.”

“Go on heaving down that there prog, Barney,” whispered Bob from behind his hand. “I don’t hold with running short out in a hopen boat.”

Barney grunted, and while Bob passed the rope round Mr Denning so that he could sit in the bight, and then made a hitch round his breast so as to secure him in case his weak hold with his hands gave way, the sailor kept various articles of food in tins flying down to Neb Dumlow, who caught them deftly and stowed them rapidly forward in the bottom of the boat.

The next minute Mr Denning was tenderly lifted by Bob Hampton and Mr Frewen, and his legs were passed out from the window, the rope was tightened, then he swung to and fro, and a minute later Dumlow had left the catching and stowing to cast off the rope which was now left hanging, so as to afford us a ready means of retreat in case it should be necessary.

With the help of Mr Preddle and the sailor, Mr Denning was soon lying back in the stern, and now the mate leaned out to give a few directions to Dumlow.

“Have you got that painter fast to the ring-bolt so that you can cast off directly?”

“Ay, ay, sir. Hear the pumps going?”

“Yes; go on stowing the stores sent down as well as you can. Mr Preddle will help you.”

“There, doctor,” he said the next minute, “now we can cast off at a moment’s notice if there’s danger.”

“From the explosion?”

“It would not hurt us,” said Mr Brymer, coolly, for now that Miss Denning and her brother were safe, he did not seem to mind. “When the powder goes off it will be amidships, and strike up. We shall only hear the noise, and perhaps have a few bits of burning wood come down near. What I fear is Jarette and his party when they take to the boats. But I think we can out-sail them.”

“Then what are we going to do now?”

“Collect everything that I think may be of use, so work away, Dale, my lad, and help me. Hampton, Blane, get another breaker of water. Take the one on the poop-deck, and lower it down over the stern.”

Bob Hampton grunted, and after seeing to a few more things being lowered into the boat, we three went quietly toward where the fire was hissing furiously, and a great cloud of steam rose now from the hold. But the blaze was as great as ever, and as we looked, and I wondered that the main-mast and its sails had not caught fire, we heard the clanking of the pumps cease, and Jarette’s voice rise above the noise and confusion.

“Boats,” he said laconically. “But no hurry, my lads. Water and stores in first. We’re all right for hours yet.”

It was curious to be there, behind the main-mast, listening to all that was going on forward, and yet seeing nothing for the fiery curtain at which we gazed, and which cast a lurid reflection on either side, and brightened the sea till it looked like gold. And it appeared the more strange that the men had not the slightest idea of our being on board, as we could tell by the orders shouted from time to time.

“There,” said Mr Brymer at last, in answer to Mr Frewen’s uneasy looks, “the lads have got that breaker of fresh water down by now, so we’ll just take the captain’s little compass and chronometer, and a few more things from the store, and be off. Ah, here they are.”

For just then the two men came down coolly enough from the poop-deck, reported the water on board, and then eagerly set to work, carrying more stores, blankets, and all else we could by any possibility want, till the mate cried hold, enough.

“We’ve got all we can stow, I’m sure,” he said.

“Then pray let us get away before it is too late,” whispered Mr Frewen.

“Afraid, doctor?”

“Yes—for those poor shivering people below, sir—and, well, yes, I am alarmed too, knowing that at any time the deck may be rent up beneath our feet and the vessel sink.”

“Yes; it is unpleasant to think about, and there is the danger of those scoundrels lowering one of the boats and coming round here for stores that they have none of there. Ah, there goes one of them down.”

For plainly enough came the chirruping of the falls as the boat was lowered from the davits.

“Now then, down with you, Frewen. You next, my lads; I don’t think I can remember anything else. You after the men, Dale, and I come last, as I’m captain for the time.”

We all obeyed with alacrity, and I breathed more freely as I sat down in the boat. Then Mr Brymer slid down, and threw the rope back through the cabin-window.

The next minute the painter was withdrawn from the ring-bolt, and Bob Hampton sent the boat away with a tremendous thrust; oars were got out, and we rowed out into the darkness to lie-to about three hundred yards from the ship, just as a dark object came along from forward, and we saw that, as the mate had expected, the boat which had been lowered had come round to the stern-windows for the men to mount, if they could, in search of stores.

“None too soon. Dale,” said the mate, coolly, and a deep breath of relief escaped my lips as I replied in his words—

“No, sir; none too soon.”

Chapter Forty.

As we lay there in our boat, only a short distance from the burning ship, it seemed to me impossible that it could be long before Jarette and his men discovered us, and came in pursuit. For I felt sure that they would give us the credit of having been beforehand with them, when they saw how the stores had been put under contribution; and knowing how much more easy it would be for them to remove the things from one boat to another than to obtain them from the ship, we should, if overtaken, be absolutely stripped. Something to this effect I whispered to Bob Hampton, but he shook his head.

“Not they, my lad; they’re in too much of a scare. Don’t suppose they’ve got any room in their heads to think about anything just now. They know fast enough that the poor old ship will soon blow up, and what they want to do is to get some more prog, and then row off soon as they can.”

I was going to say more, but I had a warning from the mate to be silent, and I sat there watching the men make a good many tries before they reached the cabin-window; but how they did it at last I couldn’t quite make out, for they were in the shadow, while all around them spread the lurid glare cast by the flames which rose from the burning hold.

These seemed to have reached their greatest height soon after the fire first broke out, and directly the first cask of spirits had burst. Then the fire went steadily on till it began to wane slightly, when another cask would explode, and flames rush up again—those great waves of fire which lapped and leaped, and floated up out of the hold, appearing from where we lay to lick the sails hanging from the fore and main-masts. But these never caught, the golden and bluish waves rising steadily and spreading to starboard and port, and every now and then sending out detached waves to float on the black night air for a moment or two before they died out.

It was very terrible and yet beautiful to see the great bursts of flame gliding up so softly and silently, almost without a sound; there was every mast and stay glistening in the light, and the sails that were hanging from the yards transparent, or half darkened on the main and mizzen-masts, while those on the fore-mast beyond the fire shone like gold.

I wondered how it was that the sides of the deck did not begin to burn, crackling, splitting, and sending up clouds of black smoke dotted with brilliant sparks, as I had once seen at the burning of a coal brig in Falmouth harbour; but they did not, and the utter stillness of the night, in that hot calm, which had on and off lasted for days, had so far saved the masts.

But as I watched, I felt that their turn must come, and that sooner or later I should be watching them turned into pyramids—all brilliant glow—till they fell with a crash, hissing and steaming, into the sea.

I pictured all that clearly enough in my mind’s eye, feeling in my expectancy a sensation of awe as the conflagration went on—this gradual burning of the spirits in the casks, which kept on exploding one by one with a singular regularity.

And all the time, as I watched, there in the shadow at the stern were the crew, busily throwing out such stores and necessaries as they could find.

I said that I could not tell how they managed to reach the cabin-window, but I suppose they spliced two oars together, and leaned them pole-like from the boat up toward the cabin-lights, and then one of the most active must have climbed.

There was a great deal of shouting and talking, and the light in the cabin enabled us to see them going and coming to the window loaded, and heaving things down.

By-and-by another boat came into sight, gliding along over the golden water, and we could see the faces of the men shining in the light as they gazed at the burning ship, and every now and then we could make out all they said, Jarette’s abuse and orders being quite distinct as they worked more busily than ever. But still they did not see us, though whenever they stirred we could plainly make out their actions, and at times even could distinguish the objects that were brought to the window and thrown down.

This was more especially the case after the second boat had come from forward, for several more men had ascended by the rope they had lowered, and the second cabin-door was opened, so that both the stern-windows were now illuminated; and as the bigger waves of light floated upward, every now and then quite a glare struck through the companion-way, lighting up the saloon, showing the men hurrying here and there, and then making for the windows to throw something down to their companions in the boats.

All at once I felt a hot breath on my cheek, and then Bob Hampton’s lips close to my ear.

“They’re a-getting a whole jorum o’ things, my lad, as won’t be much use to ’em. I’d rather have a cask o’ fresh water than one o’ them boat-loads o’ odds and ends.”

I nodded and watched for a time, and then turned to look aft at the faces of my companions, all intent upon the strange scene before them, wondering why Mr Brymer did not give orders for the men to row away before we were discovered.

But he did not open his lips, and by degrees the reason came. For no doubt the slightest splash of an oar would have made the water flash, and drawn Jarette’s attention to us where we lay at the edge of the circle of light shed by the burning ship.

I can give no account of the time occupied by the various events of that night, for some things are strangely jumbled up in my mind consequent upon my excited state; but, oddly enough, others stand out bright and clear as if lit-up by the blaze, and there were moments when the silent burning and the floating away of those waves of light beyond the busy black and gold figures at the cabin-window seemed to be part of some strange dream.

All at once, as the men were hurrying to and fro, one of the spirit-casks exploded so loudly that I saw them all dash for the windows. Then came another and another report in such quick succession, that it was almost like one. There was a tremendous burst of flame, which floated high up, and I felt that the masts must catch now, and then the cabin-lights stood cut clear without a figure visible; a burst of talking, and then a roar of laughter telling that all had safely reached the boats.

The next minute the Frenchman’s voice came clearly to us as he ordered the men to mount again, and this was answered by a confused clamour.

“You miserable gang of cowards!” shouted Jarette, sharply; and his words were so clear coming across the water that they might have been spoken a dozen yards away.

“Why don’t you go up yourself?” cried one of the men, evidently from the next boat.

“Because I order you,” he shouted.

“And because you are afraid.”

I did not catch what he said, but there was a little stir in one of the boats, and directly after I saw a figure appear at the window of Captain Berriman’s cabin and begin to climb in.

“There he is,” whispered Bob Hampton. “Sarve him right if the boys rowed away and left him.”

I was too much interested in the scene before me to pay much heed to Bob Hampton’s words, and sat watching Jarette, as he turned from the window and disappeared. Then, directly after, I heard him shout and shout again, something which sounded familiar, but I could not quite make it out even when I heard him calling again, but nobody in the boats seemed to stir.

Bob Hampton grasped the fact though, for he laid his hand on my knee, and whispered excitedly—

“Why, Mr Dale, sir, he’s gone up to fetch Mr and Miss Denning, and he can’t find ’em.”

To endorse his words Jarette appeared the next minute at the stern-windows and cried—

“Did any of you see those passengers?” There was of course a chorus of Noes, and the man ran back again shouting Mr Denning’s name, and we could hear the banging of cabin-doors. Then I saw the man’s shadow as he came back into the captain’s cabin to fetch the lamp, with which he went back, and, as I judged, ran from cabin to cabin. The next minute he appeared upon the poop-deck, his figure thrown up by the light and plainly seen as he ran here and there, and then disappeared, to be seen at the stern-window.

“They’re nowhere about,” he cried.

“How rum now, aren’t it?” muttered Bob Hampton. “Now I do call that strange.”

“Didn’t either of you see them?” shouted Jarette.

“No.”

“Did you go into their cabin?”

“No, no.”

“They must be somewhere.”

“All right then,” shouted a voice. “You go and find ’em. We’re off.”

Jarette was back at the window in an instant.

“Stop!” he cried, in his clear sharp voice.

“Pull away, my lads, we’ve had enough of this,” cried the same voice. “We don’t want to be blowed to bits.”

We heard every word clearly, and the hurried splashing of the oars.

“I told you to stop,” cried Jarette, authoritatively.

“Pull, lads! She’ll bust up directly, and suck us down. Pull!”

“Stop!” roared Jarette again, as the oars, splashed rapidly, and the boats’ heads both appeared in the light, as they left the ship.

“Why, we shall have to save him ourselves,” I thought in horror, as something seemed to rise in my throat, so enraged was I with the cowardly crew.

There was a sharp report, a wild cry, and a man who was standing upright in the bows of the first boat toppled over and fell into the sea with a splash of golden water.

The men ceased rowing.

“One,” cried Jarette sharply. “I can hit eleven more without reloading, for I never miss. There, go on, my lads. I don’t ask you to come back.”

A low murmuring sound arose, and we saw that instead of the boats going on forward they were returning into the shadow once again, as Jarette shouted aloud mockingly—

“One less to row. Why didn’t you pick him up?”

Again the low murmuring growl arose, and my mouth felt hot and dry, as with eager eyes I vainly searched the surface of the water, just where there was the plain demarcation between black shadow and the golden light.

“The wretch!” I thought. “Why don’t they rise against him?” But a fresh current of thought arose, and in a confused way I could not help thinking that it was fair retaliation. The man who had been shot and fell into the sea was evidently the one who had incited the two boats’ crews to leave Jarette to a horrible death. Was he not justified in what he did?

Then as with a strange contraction at my heart I realised the fact that Jarette’s victim had not risen to struggle on the surface of the water, I could not help feeling what power that man had over his companions, and what a leader he might have proved had he devoted himself to some good cause.

By this time the boats were right under the stern, and as I watched the lighted-up window one moment, the glistening, motionless water the next, I saw Jarette climb out, rope in hand, and glide down into the darkness.

“How horrible!” I thought, as the cold perspiration gathered on my face—“only a minute or two, and one of these men living, the next—dead.”

And then I leaped up in the boat and fell back, for from the ship a terrific rush of flame sprang up skyward, mounting higher and higher, far above the tops of the masts as it appeared to me; and then, as the fire curved over in every direction, there was a terrible concussion, and all instantaneously a short sharp roar as of one tremendous clap of thunder, cut short before it had had time to roll.

Chapter Forty One.

The boat we were in rose as a long rolling swell which lifted the bows passed under it and swept on, while I gazed in awe at the falling pieces of burning wood, which were for the most part quenched in the sea, though others floated and blazed, shedding plenty of rays of light, and showing two boats being rowed with all the power of their occupants right away from where the ship rocked slowly, half hidden by a dense canopy of smoke which hung overhead.

The great waves of burning spirit were there no more. It was as if they had suddenly been blown cut, and in their place there were volumes of smoke, through which, dimly-seen, were sparks and patches of smouldering wood. And as the burning pieces which were floating here and there gradually died out, a strangely weird kind of gloom came over the scene, which grew more and more dim till the sea was black once more, and the sole light came from the ship—a feeble, lurid glow nearly hidden by steam and smoke.

And now we were half-stifled by the smell of the exploded powder and the steam evolved when the burning fragments fell in all directions, to be quenched over acres of water around the ship. It was a dank, hydrogenous odour, which made me hold my fingers to my nose till I forgot it in the interest with which I watched the ship. For Mr Brymer said sadly, but in a low voice, for fear that a boat should be within hearing—

“Poor old girl! she ought to have had a few more voyages before this. She’ll go down directly.”

But the minutes passed, and the ship still floated and burned slowly, though it was a different kind of burning now. No soft floats of spirit-blaze rose gently and silently, but little sluggish bits of fire burned here and there where the tar had melted, and the flame was yellow and the smoke black; in other places where the wood had caught there were vicious hissings, spittings, and cracklings, as if it were hard work to burn. And so hard did it seem in some places that the scraps of wood gave it up as a bad job, and went out.

But there was plenty of mischief still in the hold, from whence a dense body of smoke rose, the rolling volumes being dimly-seen by the reflections cast upon them, and tingeing the suffocating vapour of a dull red.

We sat there almost in perfect silence, watching the ship for quite an hour; but though she was expected from moment to moment to heel over a little first to one side, then to the other, she still floated upon an even keel, and her masts with their unfilled sails retained their places. But we dared go no nearer for fear of the death-agonies of the monster coming on, and our being sucked down into the vortex she made as she plunged beneath the sea which had borne her triumphantly so many times in the past.

The desire was strong amongst us to begin talking, but Mr Brymer forbade a word being spoken.

“Jarette may be waiting somewhere close at hand with his two boats, till he has seen the last of the ship. We have had troubles enough; we do not want to increase them by a fresh encounter with the scoundrel.”

So there we sat watching, with the dull smouldering still going on in the hold of the ship. Sometimes it flashed up a little, and promised to blaze fiercely; but it was only a spasmodic attempt, and it soon settled down again to the dull smouldering, with a few vicious sparks rising here and there to hide themselves in the dull, rolling clouds, and we were in momentary expectation of seeing the vapour-enshrouded masts begin to describe arcs in the cloud, and then slowly settle down after the sinking vessel. And as I watched and calculated, I seemed to see the water rising slowly around the faintly-marked black hull, till it covered the ports, reached the deck, and then began to pour over into the burning hold, when of course there would be a fierce hissing, steam would rise in volumes, which would cover the clouds of smoke, and then all would be over, and we should be left on the wide ocean to try and fight our way to the land.

How dim the sparks and tiny, darting flames grew, and how black the ship! I listened for the splash of oars, and the sound of voices; but I heard neither for a time, and then only in faint whisperings, whose import I could not grasp.

Then our silence was broken by a slight moaning, for the doctor had gone to attend Walters, where he still lay insensible; and after that I faintly grasped the fact that in that darkness aft Mr Frewen had been attending to the captain and to Mr Denning. But I knew it all in a very misty way, and then I knew nothing whatever, for everything was a blank till I started up excitedly, and Mr Brymer said—

“Steady, my lad, steady; nobody is going to throw you overboard.”

I had been asleep for hours, and I moved out of the way now, feeling ashamed to look round; but when I did, it was to see that Mr Brymer, I, and two more were the only people awake.

“Then the ship hasn’t sunk,” I said, as I looked at her about five hundred yards away, with a pillar of smoke rising out of her hold, and the masts, yards, and sails all in their places intact.

“Yes; she still floats,” said Mr Brymer, quietly; “and we are going closer to see how she stands.”

“Where are Jarette and the men?”

“They rowed away to the east,” replied Mr Brymer, “and are quite out of sight.”

“Then we can talk aloud,” I cried.

“Ay, and shout if you like.”

It was morning, and there were signs of the sun being just about to roll up above the smooth sea, as the men gently dipped their oars so as not: to waken the sleepers, and the boat began to move softly toward the ship.

“It is a puzzle to me that she has not gone down, Dale,” said Mr Brymer, in a low voice. “That explosion was enough to drive out her sides, as well as rip up her deck; and I am beginning to think that after all she may float.”

“But she is on fire still,” I said; “and though burning slowly, the fire must be eating its way through the bottom.”

“Perhaps not, my lad,” he replied. “There was an immense amount of cargo solidly stowed below, and it may be only that which is burning.”

“But you will not venture to go on board?” I said.

“Why not, my lad?”

“She may suddenly sink.”

“She does not look now as if she would; at all events not during this calm. Yes; I am going on board, and you may come too if you like.”

I looked at him wonderingly, and felt a strange shrinking; but I fancied that I could detect a faint smile at the corner of his lip, and this touched me home, and made me speak at once.

“Very well,” I said. “I’ll go with you, sir.”

“That’s right, my lad,” he said, laying his hand on my shoulder. “Why, Dale, you will be chief mate of some ship, young as you are, almost before I get to be captain. But we won’t waste time passing compliments. What should you say if we find that the old ship is strong enough to carry us into port?”

“Oh, it is impossible,” I cried.

“Not so impossible perhaps after all; but we are getting near, and we’ll see.”

“But suppose she is so near sinking that the addition of our weight proves to be enough to make her begin settling down?”

“Well, I should be greatly surprised if it did,” he said with a smile. “But we’ll be on the safe side. As soon as we mount on deck through the cabin-window, the boat shall be backed out of the way of danger, and our first task shall be to cut loose a couple of the life-buoys. Then, if the ship drags us down, we shall be sure to rise again and float.”

I could not help a shudder at the idea of being dragged down in such a horrible vortex, perhaps to be entangled in some part of the rigging, and never rise again; and seeing what I was thinking, Mr Brymer laughed.

“No fear, my lad. She will not sink now, unless there is a storm; perhaps not even then. Row right round, my lads,” he continued to Bob Hampton and Barney; and we made a circuit of the ship, passing from astern right forward, without the hull showing any damage; and though Mr Brymer touched her just about opposite to where the principal body of smoke arose, there was no perceptible heat to be felt. Then as we pressed on under the bowsprit, I looked up at the bob-stay and the rigging about that spritsail where I had climbed; and we began to go back on the other side, to find the hull intact, and no sign of damage, but here the side was decidedly warm. Then on to the stern and under the first window, where a rope was still hanging out.

“Will you go first, Dale, or shall I?” said Mr Brymer.

For answer I began to climb, and in a very short time reached the window and crept in.

Then the rope was drawn taut again, and the mate climbed in after me, turned, and spoke gently—

“Row aft about a hundred yards, my lads. It is only for form’s sake.” And as the men began to paddle gently away, he said to me quietly—

“There is no fear of her going down, Dale, for many hours, if at all. I want to see what damage there is forward, and whether we can come aboard and attack the fire with any chance of success.”

“But shall we not be safer in the boat?” I said.

“Most decidedly not. And fancy, boy, there are three sick and wounded people, and a lady! It is our duty to study them, and besides, after all, we may save the ship.”

This sent a thrill of enthusiasm through me as we passed out of the cabin, littered with all kinds of stores and fittings, out along the damaged saloon, and thence through the companion on to the deck, which was blackened with pieces of burnt wood, scraps of a heterogeneous kind that had probably been sent skyward by the explosions, to fall back half-charred.

The smell of burnt powder now was terrible, and I could not help stopping.

“What is it?” said Mr Brymer.

“Do you think there is any more powder below?” I said, as I thought of the possibility of another explosion.

“Indeed I don’t,” said the mate, decisively. “Not a grain. It is all honest fire, my lad, smouldering away in the cargo, and waiting for a little encouragement in the shape of wind to burst out into an unconquerable blaze.”

We had been advancing again through the charred embers and fragments, to stand at last by a large ragged cavity, torn up in the deck. The whole of the hatches and combings were blasted away, and a clean sweep had been made for fully thirty feet onward, and twenty or so across; and everywhere was of a blackish grey, showing the effects of the blasting-powder. Still there was room enough on both sides to walk along by the hole; and as we looked down we could see that, in spite of the destruction, with one exception the great cross-beams which supported the deck were intact.

“She will not sink, Dale,” said the mate, quietly; and as a feeling of confidence on that question made me feel better, the fire suddenly flamed up in one place, burning briskly with a good deal of crackling and sputtering, making me feel doubtful of the ship’s stability on that side.

Mr Brymer gave me a nod, meant for encouragement, as he went on—

“All the force of the powder went upwards, as it usually does. If it had been dynamite, the explosion would have struck down, driving out the bottom, and then of course the ship would have sunk.”

“But the fire!” I said; and the anxiety I felt affected my voice, making it sound husky.

“Oh, the fire,” he said coolly. “We must fight that. It is dangerous, but the explosive spirit has burned out, or been destroyed; the powder has gone, and we have nothing to fear now but the slow working of our friend or enemy, whichever you make it.”

“But it may burst out furiously at any moment.”

“It may, my lad, but I hardly think it possible. Of course a great deal of the cargo is highly combustible, but things will not burn quickly without room and plenty of air. Fire shut in only smoulders, and eats its way slowly, as you see it there. Come, I think we may hail the boat, and get our friends on board.”

“But do you think it will be safe?”

“Safer than leaving them in an open boat.”

“But the mast—the main-mast? Suppose the fire has eaten its way through that?”

“If it had the mast would fall; but the fire has worked forward, and, as far as I can see, the mast is untouched. Run up to the main-top, it is clear now. Have a look round, to see if you can make out the two boats with our friends.”

I looked at him sharply, and he laughed. “Not afraid that the main-mast will give way with your weight, are you?”

I felt the colour burn in my cheeks at this, for he had read my thoughts exactly; and without another word, I sprang to the side, climbed above the main-chains, and made my way upwards. But I had not gone far before, as I rose higher and more over the burning hold, I became aware of a hot, stifling fume, and the irritating smoke which rose from beneath me.

But I persevered, and though it increased for a time, a few feet higher still the oppressive sensation of breathing these hot fumes grew less; and by the time I had reached and climbed into the top, the smoke was so much dissipated as to trouble me very little indeed.

The moment I was up I laid hold of a rope and began to look round, my eyes falling, naturally enough, first upon our boat lying a short distance away, with Mr Frewen, who had just awakened, bending over Walters; and I watched him anxiously, to see if I could make out how my messmate was. But I was brought back from thoughts of him and his position by the mate’s voice, as he hailed me from the deck.

“Well,” he said, “what can you see?” I looked sharply round before answering, and there was the wide sea in all directions, glistening in the morning sunshine. “Nothing,” I said at last. “Try again. Take a good look round, my lad. The boats look small in the distance. They can hardly have passed out of sight.”

I shaded my eyes, and looked long and carefully east, west, north, and south, but could see nothing, and said so.

“Well, that’s good news; but I don’t want them to see that the ship is still floating, and come back again. Go up to the main-topgallant mast-head, and have a look from there.”

I mounted higher, and reached the head, to pause there and survey, but as far as I could see there was nothing visible.

“That will do; come down,” shouted Mr Brymer; and I descended as quickly as I could to the deck, when we took a hurried peep at the forecastle, to find there and in the galley plenty of traces of the hurried departure of Jarette and the crew.

“They do not seem to have been disposed to stop for the explosion, Dale,” said Mr Brymer, smiling. “Now let’s hail the boat, and have our friends on board.”

“But do you really think it safe for them to come?” I said again.

“I told you before, my lad, safer than in an open boat. My good fellow, escaping as we were last night, we were glad to do anything; but think of the sufferings of Miss Denning and our wounded in such close quarters! They must come on board while we fight the fire; and if matters get too bad, there will be the boat all ready, swinging astern, and we can take to it.”

The boat was hailed, one of the gangways amidships opened, and by means of a sling, which Bob Hampton and Barney soon had rigged, Miss Denning and our invalids were quickly hauled on deck. Then after the boat had been made fast, they were left in charge of the doctor and Mr Preddle, who had orders to join us as soon as the sufferers were attended to in the cabin; while Mr Brymer led us forward to see if something could not be done to save the ship.

Chapter Forty Two.

Ours appeared to be a herculean task, for the fire had been burning many hours now, as after a little examination Mr Brymer decided that it would be best to attack it from the starboard side, where a bold man could approach the worst part and pour in water from buckets if the hose from the pump could not be brought to bear.

As I looked down into the blackened hold, surrounded by the jagged planks of the deck, which had been splintered and torn in the most wonderful way, the place looked to me like what I had always imagined a volcano to be. This was very small, of course; but there was the glowing centre, from which arose a column of smoke towering and curling up for some distance, and then spreading out like a tree.

The glow of the smouldering fire could be seen, but with the sun now shining brilliantly its appearance was anything but terrible, the greater light completely dimming the lesser; but as I stepped out on to the beam from which the planks had been torn by the explosion, I was made fully aware of the danger being great, for a peculiar dizziness suddenly seized me, and I was caught by the collar and dragged back to the strip of ragged deck on the starboard side.

“None o’ them games, Mr Dale, sir,” said a gruff voice in my ear, as I clung to the bulwark, and a cold perspiration gathered on my forehead.

“Anything the matter?” cried Mr Brymer.

“Not much, sir,” growled the sailor; “on’y Mr Dale, here, trying to dive down into the hold to look for the fire.”

“Why, Dale!” cried Mr Brymer, hurrying up from where he had been forward examining the hose left by the mutineers after their feeble attempt to extinguish the fire, “did the fumes attack you?”

“Yes,” I said faintly, as I pressed my hands over my forehead; “I suppose it was that.”

“Some’at queer burning below, sir,” growled Bob Hampton.

“Or the gas from the combustion,” said the mate, leading me a little more from the part where the smoke arose.

“Pretty nigh combusted him, sir, if I hadn’t got hold on his arm.”

“Well, it’s a warning for us,” said Mr Brymer. “Now then, come and pass this hose along.”

I felt better now, and walked forward to where the pump was rigged, and helped to drag the hose along the narrow path beneath, the bulwarks to where Neb Dumlow was now stationed with the brass nozzle at the end of the canvas tube, and Mr Brymer instructed him how to direct the stream of water as soon as the pump was started.

“Better let me pump, sir,” he grumbled. “I understands that a deal better.”

“I set you to this, man, because of your wound. You are not fit to take your turn at the pump.”

“Well, I like that, sir. It makes me mut’nous, it do. Why, you wants all the strength yonder to take spells in pumping,” grumbled Dumlow; “wants men, don’t yer, while this here’s boy’s work, or might be done by the gal. A baby could handle this squirt.”

“If you can pump, for goodness’ sake go forward, and don’t talk now,” cried Mr Brymer, impatiently. “Here, Dale, is that sickness gone off?”

“Oh, yes,” I cried eagerly.

“Take the branch, then, and direct the stream. Right down, mind, where the glow rises. As he says, we want all our strength there, and you can serve us better here.”

I seized the brass nozzle and held it ready.

“Be careful,” cried Mr Brymer. “Keep back so that the fumes don’t overcome you, and call out if you want help.”

I nodded, and he hurried forward, while as I stood there in the hot sunshine waiting for the water to come, I directed the nozzle so as to strike one particular part of the smouldering ruins just beside where the great spiral of smoke rose up.

The next minute clink-clank came the strokes of the double-handled pump, invisible to me, for it was on the far side of the smoke which rose from the forward part of the deck. But no water came, and after a minute or two I heard them talking loudly, and the clanking ceased. Then came the splash of a bucket over the side, and though I could see nothing, I could picture the throwing down of that bucket, and the handing of it up with the sparkling of the water as it streamed back; and I knew what the gurgling and splashing meant, as the contents freshly drawn were poured into the top of the pump.

Then the clanking began again, and I waited listening to the steady working up and down of the handles, and the strange, gasping, sucking sounds which rose hollowly from the piston.

But still no water came, and I listened to the splash of the bucket as the process of filling the big barrel of the pump was repeated. Then clang-clank again, with gurgling, hissing, and splashing; and I felt that the pump must be broken or worn-out.

“They will have to take to the buckets,” I said half-aloud; and in fancy I saw what a slow, laborious task that would be, and how hopeless it was to imagine that, short-handed as we were, we could cope with that terrible fire steadily eating its way down through the cargo, and which would certainly before long burst forth with uncontrollable fury.

“It’s all over,” I said to myself; and my heart sank once more as I began to think that we ought before long to get back to the boat, and trust to it alone, for although open and comparatively frail, it would not have a terrible enemy on board, insidiously waiting to destroy us.

“Oh, how disappointing!” I muttered, as I passed the metal nozzle from my right to my left hand, so as to wipe the perspiration from my face, when all at once there was a quick, throbbing sensation; something ran through my left hand. There was a splash, a hiss, and a cry, and Mr Preddle rushed back into the shelter of the main-mast, from behind which he had suddenly appeared.

“Oh, I say, Mr Dale,” he shouted, “you shouldn’t!”

The stream of water had come with a sudden rush, and struck him full in his smooth, plump, round face.

I tried to say, “I beg your pardon,” but I was choking with laughter and could not speak. But I could act, for I rapidly changed the nozzle back to my right hand, and directed it down at the spot I had selected for my attack, and as the clear, bright jet of water struck the smouldering cargo the effect was startling.

That fire might almost have been some fierce, dragon-like monster, suddenly attacked by its most deadly foe, for in an instant there was a savage hiss, followed by a series of crackling explosions, sputtering, popping, and shrieking even. For the steam began to generate and rush up from the hold, instantaneously changing from its natural invisibility to dense white clouds of vapour, which rose and spread, and grew so thick that I could not see where to direct the jet of water, but had to trust to my ear for the spot to attack.

“Hurray! hurray!” came faintly from forward, where the pump clanked steadily; and I responded to the cheer, but my voice was stilled by the hissing and shrieking arising from the hold. But I cheered again, and kept on, feeling quite excited, and more and more as if I were attacking a den of dragons, or serpents, so strangely unusual were the noises which followed every fresh direction of the stream.

“I say, Dale, you shouldn’t, you know,” came from close by me, in a tone full of protest; and I quite started to see Mr Preddle’s face looming out of the mist in which I was closely enveloped, and which grew more and more dense each minute.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” I shouted.

“Oh, don’t say that, Dale,” he cried back, the voice sounding very peculiar through the hissing and shrieking of the steam. “I am quite ready to forgive you, my dear boy.”

“But I didn’t really,” I yelled.

“Oh, Dale, don’t—don’t! Why, I saw you take aim at me with that thing across this dreadful gap.”

“I—can’t talk—now,” I shouted. Then, contradicting myself,—“Going to help pump?”

“Yes; but what a fearful noise!—and you have made me so wet.”

“How are you getting on?” shouted Mr Frewen. “That’s right.”

I could not see him for the steam; but his voice came from the other side of the deck, and I must have altered the direction of the jet a little, for a fresh series of explosions arose to prove how much more serious the hidden fire was than we could judge it to be from what was visible.

Crick, crack, sputter, and then report after report, as loud as those made by a revolver, while each steam-shot was followed by a ball of white vapour which came rushing up as from the mouth of a gun.

“Hurrah!” came from by the pump again, and Mr Preddle came slowly along to pass me and get forward.

“I suppose I can get by you,” he said.

“No, no; don’t try it,” I cried excitedly. “I must not stir, and there is so little room. Go back and round with Mr Frewen.”

“No, no; I daren’t.”

“The fire isn’t there,” I said, as the screaming and hissing were louder than ever.

“I’m not so much afraid of the fire as I am of the water,” cried Mr Preddle. “You want to squirt me again.”

I couldn’t say “I don’t,” for his words tickled and yet annoyed me, so that I felt that I really did want to deluge him with the water from head to foot.

“Will you promise me not to squirt if I go that way?” he shouted.

“Honour—bright,” I yelled. “Couldn’t see you.”

That was a fact, for from cut of the hold, and spreading all over the ship, the dense white fumes hid everything; and though Mr Preddle was now only about a yard away, I could not see anything but a dim, blurred patch; while facing me a dull, luminous disk all blurred and hidden from time to time showed where the sun was dealing his slanting beams.

“Well, I’m going to trust you,” said Mr Preddle, “and I beg you will not do it again.”

“All right,” I shouted; and the next minute I felt that I was alone to carry on the war against the enemy below.

“How stupid of him to think that!” I said aloud, with a laugh.

“I don’t see anything stupid. It was stupid of you to play tricks at such a time,” said Mr Preddle.

“Why I thought you were gone,” I shouted.

“No; I waited to see whether you were going to keep your word,” he replied; and then I heard no more till Mr Brymer shouted—

“Want any help, Dale?”

“No, sir.”

“Steam too much for you?”

“No, sir; all right. I’ll call if I want help.”

The pump clanked steadily on, and without any more than a half-stoppage as they made a change for resting, and I kept on searching out the hottest places by following up the loudest hissing and sputtering of the water as it changed into steam, and rose and floated upward till I thought that if the mutineers were able to see it, they would conclude that the ship was burning right away to the water’s edge, for the steam, as it floated up in that huge volume, would have all the appearance of smoke.

Then I started, for from close behind me came Mr Brymer’s voice—

“How are you getting on, my lad?”

“I don’t know; I can’t see.”

“No, but I can. Capitally,” he cried. “There must be a tremendous body of fire down below; far more than I thought.”

“But is there any fear of our pumping too much down and sinking the ship after all?”

Mr Brymer burst into a cheery laugh.

“I don’t think we should sink her by our pumping, Dale. We should get tired first, I’m afraid. Why, my good lad, I don’t know whether my calculation is right, but I should say that half the water you send down there must float up again in steam.”

“Think so, sir?” I shouted, altering the direction of the jet a little, and feeling startled at the consequences, for the shrieking and hissing which followed became deafening.

“I’m sure,” shouted my companion. “Quite below in my calculation. You can keep on, can’t you?”

“Oh yes,” I said.

“That’s right. I couldn’t do it better. Go on; every drop’s telling in extinguishing the fire, or wetting other parts of the cargo so that they will not burn. But what a fiery furnace it is! I had no idea it was so bad.”

“Do you think—” I began.

“Yes—what?”

“That it has burned through to the ship’s bottom?”

“No; and it will not now,” he shouted. “There is so much heat there that an immense body of steam must be rising, and that will help to extinguish the fire.”

“Then I am doing some good, sir?”

“Good? Yes; you are winning the fight. I must get back now, and relieve Mr Preddle. I left him and the doctor pumping.”

I did not hear him go, but when I spoke again there was no answer, and I devoted all my energy to my task, though it had become so monotonous that my thoughts began to stray, and I found myself wondering how matters were going in the cabin—whether they were very much alarmed by the noise of the steam, or whether they felt as confident as the mate did about our ultimate mastery of the fire, and how Walters and Mr Denning were.

Just then a gruff, familiar voice came out of the steam behind me.

“Mr Brymer’s orders, sir, as you’re to hand me the nozzle, and go aft and get a refresher. Says you must be choked enough.”

“Did he order me to go, Bob?” I said.

“That’s it, sir. Give’s hold.”

I handed the nozzle.

“Talk about a fog,” he cried; “this is a wunner. I say, Mr Dale.”

“Yes.”

“Sounds like something good being cooked, don’t it? I s’pose there’ll be a bit o’ something to eat soon. I’m growing streaky, and could eat anything, from biscuit up to bull-beef. Well, what’s the matter?” he cried, as a fiercer shrieking came along with clouds of vapour. “That go in the wrong place? Well, will that do?”

He shifted the direction of the nozzle, but the noise was as bad as ever.

“Well, you are hard to please, and you’ll have to take it now as I like to give it you, so off you go, my lad.”

“All right, Bob,” I replied; “I’m going,” and saturated with the moisture of my strange vapour-bath, I went along the narrow passage by the bulwarks, to find to my astonishment that I had walked out of a dense fog into the clear sunshine; and when I looked back, it was to see the white vapour towering up as if to reach the skies.

Chapter Forty Three.

I was faint and hungry, but I could not help standing there for a few minutes in the hot sunshine, which sent a pleasant glow through my damp clothes, and watching the wonderful great wreaths of steam rolling and circling up in the bright light, which made them look as if the pearly lining of sea-shells were there in a gaseous state in preparation before sinking in solution down into the sea.

Here the wreaths looked soft and pearly and grey, there they were flushed with a lovely pink which, as the steam-cloud curled over, became scarlet and orange and gold. In places where they opened as they ascended, the gold-rayed blue sky showed through, to give fresh effects of beauty, while high up, there at times were the upper parts of the masts standing out as if they belonged to some smaller ship sailing away through a thick sea-fog of an ocean far above the level where I stood.

I was gazing wonderingly at the beautiful effects produced by the bright sunshine upon the vapour, forgetting all about our danger for the moment in spite of the steady clank of the double pump, which came in regular pulsation above the hiss and roar of the steam, when my name was suddenly pronounced behind me, and turning sharply, I saw Miss Denning standing there, looking very pale, and with a scared expression in her eyes that was painful to see.

She had evidently just come to the companion-way and caught sight of me, and now held out her hands, with a smile coming into her troubled face.

“I am so glad,” she cried. “You will tell me the truth. My brother has sent me to see. Are we in great danger?”

“Oh no, I think not,” I cried, as I took her hands, and felt as if I had been neglecting a sister and a sick brother to gratify my desire to watch some coloured clouds.

“You are not deceiving me?” she cried. “Tell me, is not the danger very great? Come and tell John.”

She hurried me in through the saloon to where her brother was back in his own cabin, lying upon his mattress, looking terribly weak and ill. His face brightened though as he saw me, and he too held out his hands.

“Ah, Dale,” he said feebly, “I wanted to see you. It is so hard to lie here without being able to help, and I sent Lena to get news. Tell us the whole truth. Don’t keep anything back.”

I told him all I knew, meeting his great sunken eyes frankly enough, and he seemed relieved.

“Then there is hope?” he said at last.

“Certainly, I think so,” I replied. “They are mastering the fire, and it cannot burst out afresh, for the cargo not burned will be drenched with water.”

“But it may have worked its way through the ship’s side,” he said, with a shake of his head. Then, suddenly—“Look here, I want you, if I break down altogether, and my sister here is left alone, to take my place, and be as it were her brother. We have both liked you from the first day we met. Will you promise this?”

“I will when it becomes necessary,” I said quietly; “but you are going to be better.”

He shook his head, and Miss Denning gazed at me wildly.

“Oh, come,” I cried, “don’t look at the black side of things. It was enough to make you much worse, having to go through all that trouble; but we’ve got rid of the mutineers, gone through an explosion and a fire, and all sorts of other trouble. You’ll soon feel better when we are all straight again.”

“That’s what I tell him,” said Miss Denning eagerly, “but he only shakes his head at me.”

“And he doesn’t know so well as I do.”

“Had your breakfast, Dale, my lad?” cried Mr Brymer cheerily. “Good-morning, Miss Denning. Well, Mr Denning, we’re winning the battle.”

“Then you will save the ship?” cried Mr Denning.

“Oh yes, I think so now,” said Mr Brymer quietly. “Miss Denning, it is almost an insult to ask you, but if you could find time to help us a little!”

“Yes,” she said eagerly. “What can I do?”

“I would not ask you, but we are all forced to go on pumping to extinguish the fire, and to a man we are getting exhausted.”

“And you want food—breakfast?”

“That’s it, my dear young lady; and if you could collect a few scraps together for us—”

“It is all ready in the cabin next to the captain’s.”

“Hah! I might have known,” cried the mate, taking Miss Denning’s hand to raise it to his lips. “God bless you for all you have done for us, Miss Denning. If my little wife at home could only know everything, she would be down on her knees praying for your safety. Look here, Mr Denning, don’t you be down-hearted. I can read you like a book, better than the doctor. Half your complaint is worry about your sister here.”

“Well,” said Mr Denning with a faint smile, “suppose I grant that it is.”

“Why, then, you would be honest, that’s all. Now don’t you fidget about her, for there are on board this ship six men—I was going to say and a boy, but I can’t, for that boy counts as a man in the spirit to do all he can, so I shall say seven good men and true—who will do everything they can to protect as sweet a young English lady as ever stepped. There isn’t one of us, from grim-looking Neb Dumlow or brown Bob Hampton up to the doctor, who wouldn’t cheerfully give his life to save her from harm.”

“Yes, yes,” cried Mr Denning, with the weak tears in his eyes, “I know.”

“And I too,” said Miss Denning, in a choking voice, “though I do not know what I have done to deserve it.”

“You don’t?” cried Mr Brymer; “then I’ll tell you, my dear. There, I say it, and mean it. You have behaved like a true, sweet English lady should, ever since you have been on board. Do you think, rough sailors as we are, we haven’t seen your devotion to your brother? Do you think we haven’t all loved you for your genuine patient English pluck all through troubles that would have made scores of fine madams faint. Here, I’m getting into a knot, instead of getting something to eat, and going back to my work. Mr Denning, don’t you fidget, sir. We’ll pull you through. And you, Miss Denning, if you’ll go on seeing that the poor fellows have a morsel now and then, we’ll bless you a little more. Come along, Dale, we must get back.”

We hurried out, but I saw Miss Denning sink down on her knees sobbing by her brother’s side; and, as he put his left arm round her neck, he waved his right hand to me.

“It’s no use talking, Dale, my lad,” said Mr Brymer huskily, “we must save the ship—we will. Now, then, let’s get a handful of food a-piece and look in on the captain before we go back.”

I followed him into the right cabin, where a freshly-opened tin of beef, some biscuits, and a can of fresh water stood ready on a white cloth, and we both began to eat ravenously.

“There’s an angel for you, Dale,” mumbled the mate, with his mouth full. “Right kind of angel too, who can open meat-tins for hungry men, and who knows that even now it’s nicer off a white cloth. I don’t wonder at the doctor.”

“What about the doctor?” I said curiously, as I too ate as if I had not had anything for a month.

“Never you mind. Fill your fists and come along. Eat as we go.”

We each covered a biscuit with meat and laid another on the top, to form the hardest sandwiches ever made by man, and then hurried into the next cabin, where Captain Berriman was lying on a mattress.

“Ah, Brymer! At last!” he cried. “Well?”

“Yes, it’s well, skipper,” said Mr Brymer. “I think we shall save the ship.”

Captain Berriman’s lips moved, as his eyes closed for a few moments.

“Can you eat this?” said the mate, offering his sandwich.

“Oh no. Miss Denning has been attending to me, bless her!”

“Amen, and a double blessing,” said Mr Brymer. “There, keep a good heart, man, and pray for another day or two’s calm. We’ll do everything possible. Good-bye.”

“I know you will, Brymer. Go on, then. You will all do your best.”

He smiled at me then, and I followed the mate, who was hurrying along to the end of the saloon.

“Let’s look at Walters first.”

“No. You go; I can’t, my lad. If I do I shall feel as if I must throw him overboard. He might have saved us from all this. Go and see him, and don’t let him starve; though I suppose Mr Frewen’s feeding him now on physic.”

He hurried away, as I felt that in all probability Miss Denning had been there to see to the wretched lad; and so it proved, for on the locker close to his head was a glass of fresh water, and the white handkerchief bound round his head, still moist with eau-de-cologne, was evidently one of hers.

His eyes were closed as I entered, but after a minute he opened them and looked at me fixedly.

I could not help shuddering, and thinking how horribly bad he looked, but the repelling feeling gave way to pity directly, as I thought of how sharply he was being punished for all he had done—wounded, suffering severely in body, and far worse, I was sure, in mind.

I hesitated for a few moments, hardly knowing how to approach him, for mentally I felt farther from him than ever. We had never been friends, for I knew that he had never liked me, while now, as I gazed at him, and thought of all the sufferings he had caused, I felt that we ought to be enemies indeed. And so I behaved to him like the worst enemy I ever had, and as he gazed at me fixedly I went and laid my hand upon his forehead.

“You’re precious hot and feverish,” I said. “You had better have the door open too.”

I propped the cabin-door wide, so that the air might pass through, and then added, gruffly enough—

“Shipbuilders are awful fools to make such little round windows,” but, as I said it, I felt all the time that the little iron-framed circular window that could be screwed up, air and water-tight, had been the saving of many a ship in rough seas.

“Hadn’t you better drink some water?” I said next, as I saw him pass his dry tongue over his parched lips.

“Please,” he said feebly; and, as I took the glass of water, passed my arm under his head to hold him up and let him drink, I said to myself—