of a fishing fleet away ahead,
and nearer to the shore. But these we had no thought for, since the
deserted yacht was beating up to us, and we stood right in her track.

"Get a grapnel forward, and look out there," cried Dan, who was in
command; and Billy stood ready, while we could hear the swish of the
waves against the cutter's bows, and every man instinctively put his
hand on his pistol or his knife.

As if to help us, the wind fell away as the schooner came up, and she
began to shake her sails; making no way as she headed almost due east.
It seemed a fit moment for effort, and Dan had just sung out "Give
way," when every man who had gripped an oar let go the handle again and
sat with horror writ on his countenance. For, almost with the words of
the order, there was the sound as of fierce contest, of the bursting of
wood, and the spread of flame; and in that instant the decks of the
yacht were ripped up, and sheets of fire rose from them to the rigging
above. The light of this mighty flare spread instantly over the sea
about her, and far away you could look on the rolling waves, red as
waves of fire. A terrible sight it was, and terrible sounds were those
of the wood rending with the heat, of the stays snapping and flying, of
the hissing of the flame where it met the water. But it was a sight of
infinite horror to us, because we knew that one who might yet live was
a prisoner of the conflagration--the one passenger, as it seemed then,
of the vessel which was doomed.

"Give way," roared Dan again, for the men sat motionless with terror.
"Are you going to let him burn? May God have mercy on him, for he needs
mercy!"

The words awed them. They shot the long-boat forward; and I stood in
her stern to observe, if I could, what passed on the burning decks. And
I saw a sight the like to which I pray that I may never see again.
Martin Hall stood at the main shrouds, motionless, volumes of flame
around him, his figure clear to be viewed by that awful beacon.

"Why doesn't he jump it?" I called aloud. "If he can't swim, he could
keep above until we're alongside"; and then I roared "Ahoy!" and every
man repeated the cry, calling "Ahoy!" each time he bent to his oar, his
voice hoarse with excitement. But Martin Hall never moved, his gaunt
figure was motionless--the flames beat upon it, it did not stir; and we
drew near enough anon and knew the worst.

"Devils' work, devils' work!" said Dan; "he's lashed there--and he's
d