"Bruised a bit. Whatever has happened?"
"The cable has parted and we're ashore on our beam-ends. No danger, I think."
"I'll be out in a minute."
Then he became aware of a smell of burning, and found that the sand hearth with its core of fire had slid downhill and was smouldering among the silken draperies, which were beginning to break into flame.
He crawled back and tore them down and bunched them tightly together, then scooped up handfuls of sand and smothered every cinder he could see.
Miss Drummond's door opened just as he had finished.
"Stop where you are," he cried. "I'll come up for you. Everything's on the slope. I think we'd better sit on the floor and let ourselves down by degrees."
Outside, the wild screaming of the birds mingled eerily with the rush and howl of the gale. It was still quite dark. He could not see her, but groped about till he felt her blankets, then found her hand and eased her carefully down the slope, and they crouched side by side in the angle made by the floor and the side of the ship.
"Will she go down?" she asked quietly.
"Oh, no. No fear of that. We're aground. But whether she'll ever come straight again I don't know. Did it pitch you out of your bunk?"