not been a murmur nor a
whisper of going to the boats, which floated on either side and astern.

But the captain and the two mates knew that before long there must be a
rush of fire up through the great hatch, that the sails would
immediately catch, and then the masts and rigging would rapidly be a
blaze from stem to stern.

Mark had just returned from one of his visits to the front of the cabin,
where the helpless women stood gazing at the dimly-seen crowd about the
hatch, going and coming, and blotting out the dim light of the lanterns
placed here and there. He was close to his father as once Mr Gregory
came up, blinded with the smoke, and half suffocated.

"I can't hit upon the place," he said angrily. "We're wasting time,
Captain Strong, for the smoke comes up all over, and we have never yet
touched its source."

"No," said the captain gloomily; "but we must persevere."

"Oh, yes, sir, we'll persevere; never fear for that."

"If I could only think of what would be likely to light by spontaneous
combustion, it might help us."

"I can help you to that," said the mate.

"The fire's gaining fast, sir," said Small, the boatswain, coming up;
"Mr Morgan says we must have more hands below."

A thrill ran through the men, and one of them threw down his bucket.

"It's labour in vain, captain," he said. "Better keep our strength for
the oars."

"Take up that bucket, sir," roared the captain furiously, "or--"

He did not finish his sentence but took a couple of strides forward, and
the man resumed his work.

"I give orders here," said the captain in a loud deep voice. "Now, Mr
Gregory, what is it?"

"Matches. A chest or two must have been sent by some scoundrel
described as something else, and the pressure or crushing in of the case
has ignited them."

"That does not help us, sir," said the captain bitterly. "I want to
know where they are."

"Matches--did you say matches?" cried a highly-pitched voice; and Jimpny
dropped his bucket and started forward.

"Back to your work!" cried one of the men, but the captain stopped him.

"Yes, matches, my man," he said, for there was a faint hope that Jimpny
might know something.

"There were chests of 'em down below where I lay," said Jimpny eagerly.
"I could smell 'em strong all the time."

"Smell them?" cried Mr Gregory.

"Yes, sir, onion phosphory smell, you know."

"Hurrah!" cried the first-mate excitedly. "Axes, my lad, and lanterns.
We know now."