Pale, transfixed, frozen, I lifted my eyes to the man, who seemed to represent my fate for the moment.  “Was it the lightning?” I asked, after a pause, during which his pitying eye rested on me drearily.  “Did the fire occur in that way?”

“Yes, the lightning it was; and God’s hand, which sent the shaft direct, alone can deliver us.”

I seemed to hear the voice of Bertie speak these words.  Things grew confused; I wavered as I stood, lifted my hand to my head; the face of Christian Garth grew large and dim, then, faded utterly.  I knew no more until I found myself seated on a coil of rope, leaning against the bulwark, while a young girl stood beside me, fanning and bathing my face, and offering me a glass of water.

“You are better now,” she said, kindly; “the man at the wheel called me as I was passing, and pointed out your condition, and I led you here, and ran for water.  Being up so early is apt to disagree with some people.”

“What are these people crawling about the deck for?  Is all hope over, or was it only a dream?” I asked.

“Oh, you are quite wild yet from your swoon; it is only the calkers stopping up the seams, one of the captain’s queer whims they say; but how they are to dance to-night, those magnificos I mean, without ruining their slippers with this pitch, I cannot see!  Thank Goodness!  I belong to a church, and am not of this party, and don’t care on my own account, nor does the captain, I believe.  I was placed under his care at Savannah, and I suppose it is only to stop the ball that—­”

She was interrupted by the approach of the officer under discussion, but he passed us gloomily and went on to inspect the workmen so unseasonably employed, as it seemed, in a labor that, save in a case of long voyages, is always performed in port.

His melancholy air, and the preoccupation of his manner, confirmed my worst fears.

Again I sought the Ixion of the vessel, who calmly and stolidly performed his duty as if, indeed, Fate directed, without a change of feature now, or expression.

“Has the captain no hope of rescue, Mr. Garth?”

“Oh yes; he thinks we shall meet a ship or two between now and noon—­we ’most always do, you know”—­rolling his quid slowly, and hesitating for a while; “keep heart, keep heart!  I had thought from your face you were stronger; besides, the pumps are doing good work in the hold:  who knows what may come of it, who knows?”

Alas! alas!  I could not rise to the level of this dim hope.  “Think of the burning crowd, the sheet of flame, the terrible destruction!” I murmured; “I must go now and apprise those poor wretches below that their time is short; they have a right to know.”

His vice-like hand was on my arm.  “You do not go a step on such an errand,” he muttered.  “It is the captain’s business; he will ’tend to it when the time comes, for he is a true man, and, the bravest sailor on the line.  He means to do what’s right, never fear.  It is my dooty to hold you here until he comes, onless you promise me to be discreet.”