Page:The Fate of Fenella (1892).djvu/270

 would be saved. A rattle at the door. Jacynth, almost awake, cried "Come in," an invitation quite superfluous, for the door was burst open.

"Look alive, sir!" shouted the bos'n, entering hurriedly. "Ship's afire, and the boats are being got ready!"

"And Ronny?" said Jacynth, wide awake now the nightmare of the burning stockings uplifted.

"The young un's all right, I seed to him first, and his father's got him in tow. Better slew on as many things as you can. It'll be bad in the boats till morning breaks."

Jacynth was not long in dressing, foregoing in his haste the luxury of his worsted stockings, which he had full time to regret. When he went on deck a strange sight met his eye. The passengers, fully two hundred in number, were massed together aft of the bridge, most of the women bareheaded and all showing signs of hasty dressing. From one of the hatches near the wheel a dense volume of smoke poured forth, now and then with increasing frequency; lit up by tongues of flame on either side of the hatch, a line of blue-jackets plied hose and bucket in ineffectual struggle with the growing furnace. A singular quietness prevailed. There was a murmur of conversation among the closely-packed crowd of passengers. A sharp word of command from the first officer in charge of the fire brigade rose from time to time above the howling wind