"Not taking on about that silly cup, I hope—no; what can it be then, a megrim? No. Well, I can't imagine any thing worse, to save my life. Here, let me read you this, it is fine—it is where Jane Eyre feels herself deserted, and this comparison about 'the dried-up channel of a river' thrills one. Just hear it;" and she was about commencing—
"Not now—not now, Miss Lamarque; stern realities demand our attention. Lay your book aside, be calm, be firm, but listen to me seriously. Christian Garth informs me, nor he alone—my own eyes have done the rest—that the cotton in the hold has taken fire from the lightning yesterday; has been slowly smouldering ever since the mast was struck—and that the ship's hours are numbered!"
"O God! O God!" and she bowed her head upon her clasped and quivering hands. "But, Captain Ambrose—he did not tell you so?" looking up suddenly. "Christian Garth, indeed! his impudence is surprising—another hoax, I suppose," and she tried to smile; "such a coarse creature, too!"
"We shall see, but for the present say nothing; only get up and dress as quickly as you can, but it is important to be very quiet, for fear of causing confusion. I have promised discretion."
"Call Dominica, then, for me, Miss Harz," gasping and stretching forth her arms. "I can do nothing for myself—nothing—I am so weak, so helpless. Yet I must believe he is—you are mistaken!"
"I trust it may prove so. But let me assist you; Dominica is best employed making ready the little ones and giving them food—strengthening them for the struggle. She will be nerveless if she knows the truth, and you are not in a condition to conceal it."
"Just as you will, then. My trunk—will you be so kind as to unlock it and give me out the tray—that picture? After that I can get along alone."
I silently did as she desired, and saw her place a covered miniature about her neck before she arose. Very few minutes sufficed this morning for her toilet—usually a tedious and fastidious one—her dress, her bonnet, her shawl, were hastily thrown on, her watch secured with the few jewels lying upon the night-table; the rest of her valuables were with other boxes in the hold, the repository of all unneeded baggage, and these, of course, she could scarcely hope to save in case of fire, even if lives were rescued.
Then, together, we went out, just in time to join the little troop of young children and nurses on their way to the deck. Miss Lamarque did not reply to their tumultuous greeting, but, silently taking the baby Florry, her namesake, in her arms, kissed her many times. I had told her while, she was dressing, of the smoke-wreaths about the base of the broken mast, and she believed in the testimony my eyes had afforded me far more than in the reports of Christian Garth. We did not encounter Mr. Lamarque when we first went on deck; he had gone forward to smoke, some one said; but Captain Ambrose was standing alone, telescope in hand, and to him we addressed ourselves, quietly.
He seemed startled when I disclosed the result of my observation—for I did not choose to commit the pilot—but he did not attempt to deny the truth of the condition of things, and conjured us both to entire quiet and composure, and, if possible, to absolute silence. The safety of five hundred people, he said, depended on our discretion; the ship might not ignite for days, if at all, he thought, so carefully had the air been excluded from the cotton by the process of tight calking, so as to seal it almost hermetically; indeed, the fire might be wholly extinguished by the pumps, which were constantly at work, pouring streams of water around and through the hold; and a panic would be equal to a fire in any case. Such were his calmness and apparent faith in his own words, that they did much to allay Miss Lamarque's fears. My own were little soothed—I never doubted from the beginning what the end would be.