Mark dropped the lantern with a crash, and the candle within it flickered for a moment and went out, as a horrible thought struck him, and turning back to the ladder he sprang up, and was about to shout, but his better sense prevailed, and he ran to where the first-mate stood by the bulwarks talking to one of the men.
“Well, have you quieted him?”
“Mr Gregory! Here! I want to speak to you,” said Mark huskily.
“What, has he bitten you?”
Mark dragged at his arm, and as soon as they were on the other side, panted out in a low whisper:
“There’s something on fire down below.”
“What!” shouted the mate in his surprise and horror. Then recovering himself, and knowing the risks attending a scare, “Poor boy!” he cried aloud. “Well, we shall be obliged to have that dog shot.”
This quieted the men, who were advancing, and they went back to their places, while Mr Gregory walked Mark slowly by him to the cabin-door.
“Are you sure you smelt fire?” he whispered.
“Yes, sir, and there is smoke coming out from between those lower hatches.”