Dick and Alexandros scrambled in, while Maurice ran to help Justinian; but, before he could reach him, he was ingulfed in the waves of the sea, and half blindly saw a huge stone fall from heaven on his uncle and the struggling Greek. The waves foamed around the pair, but, without a cry, Caliphronas had been struck down, a bleeding, smashed-up mass, under the cruel rock; while Justinian, also struck on the chest, could make no effort to save himself. Borne up by the force of the sea, Maurice felt rather than saw the boat rush past him towards the beach, but with an almost superhuman effort he managed to clutch his insensible uncle and keep afloat. The waters around were seething furiously, great stones kept splashing down on all sides, and above he could but see a sky of intense black smoke, through which played forked flashes of red fire.
The sea, having dashed right up to the cliffs, began to retire, upon which Dick and Alexandros leaped out of the boat to lighten her, and thus try to float her back into deep water. Maurice staggered to his feet, with his uncle in his arms, and strove to reach the boat. Borne outward by the retreating waters, the light craft swept past him, but he also, abandoning himself to the waves, was carried seaward. In another second the boat was in deep water, and Dick, who had never let go the gunwale, leaped in with Alexandros. They looked anxiously through the gloom for Maurice and the Demarch, and as at this moment a flash of scarlet fire lighted up the furious sea, they caught a glimpse of them, and, in spite of the still outward-rushing water, tried to row obliquely towards the pair. For a moment it looked as if they could not be saved, but fortunately, Maurice, though half stunned, still retained his senses, and was able to clutch the oar which Dick held out towards him. By this he was drawn gradually to the boat, which was rocking violently in the disturbed sea.
“Take—uncle!—uncle first!”
Dick, with the assistance of Alexandros, managed to pull the insensible man on board, after which, Maurice, half dead with exhaustion, also scrambled into the boat, and, the sea now being calmer, they rowed rapidly out to sea.
The volcano was now spouting fire furiously, and by the glare they were able to see the entrance of the breakwater. By a miracle, they escaped the falling stones, but, just as they were gliding past the massive masonry, they saw the boat of Temistocles dashed to pieces, and all on board go down in the crimson flood. Much as they wished to save the unfortunate men, they were unable to do so, for every second they expected to be dashed to pieces, so, with the strength of despair, they shot out of the harbor far into the sea beyond. Justinian, Helena, and Zoe were all lying insensible at the bottom of the boat, Maurice was at the helm, and Alexandros, with Dick, was pulling for dear life, so as to get beyond the range of the projectiles shot from the volcano.
Alas, the beautiful Island of Fantasy! it was now nothing but a pillar of fire, and all the dead Melnosians, the living pirates, had been reduced to ashes in that terrible furnace. Already streaks of glowing lava began to move slowly down the sides of the mountain, colossal tongues of fire shot upward to the silent stars, and explosions, like distant cannonading, shook the mountain to its base. The noise was something deafening, but, luckily for the fugitives, they were now beyond the rain of stones, rocks, and bombs, while the sea, though still disturbed, was comparatively quiet.
They were floating on an ocean of blood, for the crimson glare of the spouting fire smote sky and sea alike with its fiery blaze, and away in the distance arose the deserted Melnos, with its peaks crowned with thick vapors, from whence flashed streaks of fire.
The ever-turning wheel of time had come full circle, and the long extinct volcano was once more a burning mountain, vomiting death and destruction on all sides; while far beyond, on the scarlet waters, floated the little boat containing five human beings, all that remained of the inhabitants who had dwelt in the beautiful valley of Melnos.
CHAPTER XL.
DEATH PAYS ALL DEBTS.
The day is ended, the night is near—