ssel--_Marten W. Garman._

"Why, that's the old Consul's name," said several voices.

Uncle Richard had already heard the name from his brother, and, looking
up, he saw the name of their father standing out in its gold letters
amidst the flames, which were curling up the vessel's side. Jacob Worse
seized the nozzle of the hose, and with one sweep forced the water to
such a height that the fire was quenched for the moment.

But now it was plain to all that the ship's fate was sealed, and even if
there were some among the spectators who might owe Garman and Worse a
grudge, still they could not but feel that it was a pity for the proud
ship to be thus doomed to destruction.

Morten had returned after his interview with his father, and was
standing close by Uncle Richard. Every eye was fixed on the ship. The
fire increased every second, and with a loud roar the flames burst out
above the roof of the storehouse, and at each blast of wind the
conflagration waxed higher and higher, until the heat by the engines
became almost intolerable. The more furiously the fire raged, the more
silent grew the crowd. No orders were heard, and the shouts of
encouragement from the seamen died away; while the strokes of the pump
no longer fell with the same determined regularity. Even Jacob Worse
lost heart.

But now a shout is heard from a small boy belonging to the West End, who
had climbed up into the rigging of a coaster which lay off one of the
warehouses. "She's giving way! She's off! Hurrah! She's off!"

A murmur of disapproval went through the crowd at this ill-timed joke.
But see! it almost seems as if the joke were a reality. The excitement
increases every moment, and with it are heard cries of hope and fear.
Yes!--no!--yes! she really is moving. She's off! The pumps are deserted
amidst breathless expectation, while the sound of voices waxes higher
and higher, not only in the yard itself, but among the crowd who
surround it, till it becomes a cheer, a joyous cry of hundreds; men,
women, boys, all shouting they know not what, till all is mingled in one
tumultuous roar.

For see! she's starting. The huge dark mass begins to move; and inch by
inch, with ever-increasing speed, the massive hull glides out through
the flames; her shining sides disappear foot by foot through the smoke;
the golden band flashes in the glare, and high as if in triumph does the
bow rear itself heavenwards, while the stern dives deep into the waves.
Then