Then it was that the cry of fire was raised which had called the crew away from their demon purpose.
From the behaviour of the captain and his mate, it might have been supposed that the fire had been extinguished; and, for a time, such was the belief. Surely, before setting on to belabour the culprit as they were doing, they had seen that the fire was out? Such would have been the natural conclusion, and so everyone judged. It soon came out that they judged wrongly. The two officers were half-mad with drink and rage; and, without attempting to get the fire under, they had set upon the black and were expending their anger in blows, while the latter kept howling at the top of his voice, mingling with his cries for mercy the more startling cry of “fire!” It was this that had so suddenly alarmed the crew.
Was the fire out? or was it still burning? These were the questions that passed from mouth to mouth in quick and apprehensive utterance.
As soon as it was ascertained where it had occurred, a rush was made into the cabin—the men crowding together through the entrance, and treading upon one another’s heels in their haste to be assured of the truth and relieved of the terrible suspense—for there is no calamity on board a ship so much dreaded as fire.
The suspense of the Pandora’s crew was not of long duration. It became certainty—a certainty that the fire was not yet extinguished! On entering the cabin, they saw this at a glance. Thick sulphurous smoke was rising through the open hatchway, and the cabin was already filled with it. There must be fire to produce such a smoke, and fire still alive and active—for it was not the smoke of a fire that had been lately extinguished! No; it was still alive—still burning—still spreading and increasing! That was evident to all as soon as they entered the cabin, and saw the smoke issuing up through the hatchway.
But if there remained any doubt on the mind of any one it was soon removed; for, at that moment a loud explosion was heard in the store-room below—like a blank-shot or the bursting of a steam-boiler—and, almost simultaneous with the report, a gush of thick vapour, mingled with blue flame, came rushing up the hatchway.
Chapter Forty Nine.
It needed no conjuror to explain that report. Every one knew what it meant. It was caused by the exploding of the strong iron-bound cask—burst open by the gas engendered by the fire within. Of course the spirit was now spilled over the floor of the store-room and everywhere on fire; so that every combustible article within reach—and of these there were many—would soon catch the flame. There were dry barrels of biscuits, and quantities of bacon, hams, with lard, oil, and butter. It was remembered that there was a barrel of pitch, too, close to where the brandy-cask had been kept. All these would catch freely and burn rapidly and readily—especially the barrel of pitch, the head of which was open. It was thought there was no gunpowder for, although there had been a large quantity of coarse blasting-powder aboard, it was part of the original freight, and had all been delivered to King Dingo Bingo in exchange for the slaves. So at least was it supposed at the time, and this hypothesis served a useful purpose—since it enabled the crew to act with more coolness than they would otherwise have done. There is no situation more calculated to destroy presence of mind than to be aboard a ship on fire, and to know that somewhere among the flames there is a barrel of powder.