dunnage; lively, now!"

When they were in the carriage, and rolling quietly along through the
sandy streets, Captain May said they were just in time, for he was
ready to drop down the river that night.

"Then I'd better go to a hotel," said Mark.

"What for?" asked Captain May.

"Because I'm to go to Boston by steamer from here, and Ruth is to go
with you."

"Steamer nothing;" shouted Captain Bill. "You're coming along with us
on the Wildfire. Steamer, indeed!"

This seemed to settle it, and Mark wrote home that evening that, having
received a "pressing invitation," he was going to sail to New York with
Captain Bill May in the Wildfire.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE BURNING OF THE "WILDFIRE."

"Aunt Emily," as the children called her at once, because she was Edna
May's aunt, welcomed them as warmly as Captain May had done, and
everything in the cabin of the Wildfire was so comfortable that they
felt at home at once. Supper was ready as soon as they were, and as
they sat down to it Mark said he wished "Aunt Clo" could see it, for he
thought it would give her some new ideas of what Yankees had to eat.

After supper each of the children wrote a letter home, and Mark and
Captain May walked up to the post-office to mail them.

About nine o'clock a tug came for the ship, and very soon they had bid
good-bye to Savannah, and were dropping down the muddy river towards
the sea. As it was a fine moonlit night, the children stayed on deck
with Mrs. Coburn to see what they could of the river, which here forms
the boundary line between the States of Georgia and South Carolina. On
both sides, as far as they could see, the marshes were covered with
fields of growing rice, and every now and then they heard the sound of
music coming from the funny little negro cabins which were scattered
here and there along the banks.

They passed the old forts Jackson and Pulaski, both on the south side
of the river, and both deserted and falling to ruin, and very soon had
left behind Tybee Island, with its flashing light, at the mouth of the
river. The tug left them when they reached the siren buoy that keeps up
a constant moaning on the outer bar; one after another of the ship's
sails were loosed and "sheeted home," and then Captain May said it was
"high time for the watch below to turn in."

The sea was so calm and beautiful the next day that even Mark did not
feel ill, nor was he during the voyage. As for Ruth, she knew, from her
ex