that two of our men jumped in and sank with them."

Ramsey covered her face. "What did your father do?"

"He let himself down by one of the derrick posts. As he did so, and when
they who had tried to rescue us had failed, the mate, who is a famous
swimmer, sprang overboard, as near the larboard wheel as the fire would
let him, struck out round it, climbed up on it into the paddle-box, and
tried to reach the cabin deck by the kitchen stair. But a sweep of the
flames drove him back into the river, and he was just sinking when Mr.
Gilmore, you know, drew him into his skiff.

"At the same time your uncle Dan came tumbling down from a pilot-house
window and staggered with us back to the stern rail, for all the stairs
were burning. It was idle to call for help. The whole thing had lasted
but a minute or two. Phyllis didn't want help and we had just that
instant to get down in.

"Those who had gone ashore could not see us. The smoke hid us. So did
the texas. Your uncle Dan dragged a mattress out of it and dropped it
over the stern, away down onto the fantail, scores of feet below. The
flames made the boat's shadow as black as ink. We thought the yawl was
down there, but some of the crew had swum out from the shore and pulled
away in it to pick up the mate--and us, of course, if we were with him.

"Your uncle, though fearfully burnt, took me on his back and showed
Phyllis how to climb down beside him by the bracket work and posts and
balustrades of the guards, as I could have done, but he wouldn't let me.

"If the wind had been the other way we should have perished right there.
But the guards of the ladies' cabin ran round the stern, as they do on
this boat, and her fantail, below, stretched still farther aft. So we
got down to those guards easily. But in the ladies' cabin the fire had
worked aft faster than outside, and on those guards the heat was
torture. We could only hang from them and drop. Your uncle went first,
then Phyllis and then I, he catching us, for down there he had light
enough, looking up, and as we fell the flames shot through the cabin
stern windows. He caught us, but then he said, 'I'm gone, Phyllis,' and
crumpled down at her feet. Then I cried for help but Phyllis said we
didn't need to call, and we didn't. We'd been seen at last, on the
guards as we climbed down. They called to us to stick to the boat till
swimmers could reach us. But we couldn't. The wind had turned, the heat
was worse than ever, the