“Sam! Jack!” yelled the captain, “your fork—anything. Boys—water.”
He rushed round to the back, closely followed by the black figure, on which the firelight glistened, and began tearing away the burning brushwood. This was being tossed aside by Sam the next moment, and then buckets of water were brought, and none too soon, for the angle of the house was now blazing furiously.
But the water made little impression, and the captain shouted:
“Quicker, boys! More, more!”
“There ain’t no more,” growled Sam, sourly.
“What!”
“Stand back, all of you,” cried the captain in a stern voice. “Jack! the women! get them to a distance. The place must go, and you know—”
“Look out!” shouted Norman, and he ran forward and threw something at the bottom of the blazing wall.
There was one sharp flash, a puff of hot flame, a great cloud of smoke, and then darkness, with the side of house and kitchen covered with dull sparks.
“Hurrah!” rose from the boys; and the captain drew a deep breath, full of thankfulness.