“Perhaps the fiends have placed the young bride there!”
The thought was almost too horrible.
With desperation and vengeance in his face, Wildfire Ned leaped into the hold below, sword in hand.
Led by instinct, but why he knew not, Ned rushed madly to the stern of the vessel.
In the lower hold he perceived a long fusee burning.
There remained but two or three inches of it.
In a few seconds it would reach the powder.
“’Tis for life or death,” said Ned.
With a fearful leap he descended into the lower hold.
All was pitch-darkness around him.