rits 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