“I don’t know what it means,” replied the puzzled incendiary. “You saw the fire, and so did I; and I can’t see why the blaze don’t come up through the deck.”
“It is very odd, Bill; and I can’t see through it any better than you can,” added Bark. “It don’t look as though we were to have a burn to-day.”
“We are bound to have it!” insisted Bill Stout. “I shall try next time in one of the mess-rooms.”
“With all the pains and precautions to prevent fire on board, it seems that the jolly craft won’t burn. No fellow has been allowed to have a match, or even to take a lantern into the hold; and now you can’t make the vessel burn when you try with all your might.”
“The Evil One is working against us,” continued Bill, who could make no other explanation of the repeated failures.
“If he is, he is on the wrong side; for we have done nothing to make him desert us,” laughed Bark. “We certainly deserve better of him.”
“I am going below to see what was the matter this time,” added Bill, as he raised the trap-door.
Bark offered no opposition to his purpose, and Bill went down the ladder. He was not gone more than a couple of minutes this time; and when he returned he looked as though he had just come out of the abode of the party who was working against him. He seemed to be transfixed with wonder and surprise; and for a moment he stood in silence in the presence of his fellow-conspirator.
“What’s the matter with you, Bill? You look like a stuck pig that has come back to haunt the butcher,” said Bark, trying to rally his associate. “Did you see any spirits in the hold? This is a temperance ship, and the principal don’t allow any on board.”
“You may laugh, Bark, if you like; but I believe the evil spirit is in the hold,” replied Bill impressively.