“No fear, my lad. She will not sink now, unless there is a storm; perhaps not even then. Row right round, my lads,” he continued to Bob Hampton and Barney; and we made a circuit of the ship, passing from astern right forward, without the hull showing any damage; and though Mr Brymer touched her just about opposite to where the principal body of smoke arose, there was no perceptible heat to be felt. Then as we pressed on under the bowsprit, I looked up at the bob-stay and the rigging about that spritsail where I had climbed; and we began to go back on the other side, to find the hull intact, and no sign of damage, but here the side was decidedly warm. Then on to the stern and under the first window, where a rope was still hanging out.
“Will you go first, Dale, or shall I?” said Mr Brymer.
For answer I began to climb, and in a very short time reached the window and crept in.
Then the rope was drawn taut again, and the mate climbed in after me, turned, and spoke gently—
“Row aft about a hundred yards, my lads. It is only for form’s sake.” And as the men began to paddle gently away, he said to me quietly—
“There is no fear of her going down, Dale, for many hours, if at all. I want to see what damage there is forward, and whether we can come aboard and attack the fire with any chance of success.”
“But shall we not be safer in the boat?” I said.
“Most decidedly not. And fancy, boy, there are three sick and wounded people, and a lady! It is our duty to study them, and besides, after all, we may save the ship.”
This sent a thrill of enthusiasm through me as we passed out of the cabin, littered with all kinds of stores and fittings, out along the damaged saloon, and thence through the companion on to the deck, which was blackened with pieces of burnt wood, scraps of a heterogeneous kind that had probably been sent skyward by the explosions, to fall back half-charred.
The smell of burnt powder now was terrible, and I could not help stopping.