All night the ship flew like a frightened bird towards her port, under such a press of canvas as Captain May would not have dared carry had not the necessity for speed been so great.  As the night wore on the decks grew hotter and hotter, until the pitch fairly bubbled from the seams, and a strong smell of burning pervaded the ship.  At daylight the American flag was run half-way up to the mizzen peak, union down, as a signal of distress.  By sunrise the Highlands of Navesink were in sight, and they also saw a pilot-boat bearing rapidly down upon them from the northward.

As soon as he saw this boat Captain May told his passengers that he was going to send them on board of it, as he feared the fire might now break out at any minute, and he was going to ask its captain to run in to Sandy Hook, and send despatches to the revenue-cutter and to the New York fire-boat Havemeyer, begging them to come to his assistance.

Mrs. Coburn and Ruth readily agreed to this plan, but Mark begged so hard to be allowed to stay, and said he should feel so much like a coward to leave the ship before any of the other men, that the captain finally consented to allow him to remain.

The ship’s headway was checked as the pilot-boat drew near, in order that her yawl, bringing the pilot, might run alongside.

“Halloo, Cap’n Bill,” sang out the pilot, who happened to be an old acquaintance of Captain May’s.  “What’s the meaning of all that?” and he pointed to the signal of distress.  “Got Yellow Jack aboard, or a mutiny?”

“Neither,” answered Captain May, “but I’ve got a volcano stowed under the hatches, and I’m expecting an eruption every minute.”

“You don’t tell me?” said the pilot, as he clambered up over the side.  “Ship’s afire, is she?”

The state of affairs was quickly explained to him, and he readily consented that his swift little schooner should run in to the Hook and send despatches for help.  He also said they should be only too proud to have the ladies come aboard.

Without further delay Mrs. Coburn and Ruth, with their baggage, were placed in the ship’s long-boat, lowered over the side, and in a few minutes were safe on the deck of the pilot-boat, which seemed to Ruth almost as small as Mark’s canoe in comparison with the big ship they had just left.

As soon as they were on board, the schooner spread her white wings and stood in for Sandy Hook, while the ship was headed towards the “Swash Channel.”

As she passed the Romer Beacon Captain May saw the pilot-boat coming out from behind the Hook, and knew the despatches had been sent.  When his ship was off the Hospital Islands he saw the revenue-cutter steaming down through the Narrows towards them, trailing a black cloud behind her, and evidently making all possible speed.

By this time little eddies of smoke were curling up from around the closely battened hatches, and Captain May saw that the ship could not live to reach the upper bay, and feared she would be a mass of flames before the fire-boat could come to her relief.  In this emergency he told the pilot that he thought they had better leave the channel and run over on the flats towards the Long Island shore, so as to be prepared to scuttle her.