By this time the work of rescuing the other occupants of the boat had been completed. The female passengers had been sent into the after cabins, there to be rigged out in motley garments of blankets, sailcloth, and what not. The male passengers were sent willy-nilly into the fo'c'sle, where they and the crew of the lost ship were accommodated with the spare clothing of our men. The captain of the vessel, a short, red-faced man, was almost beside himself at the loss of his vessel, asserting in no mild tones that she had been fired maliciously, and that he knew the culprit and would hand him up to justice at the first port we touched. Strangely enough, he uttered no expression of gratitude for the deliverance of the ship's company and passengers from the perils of the deep, nor did he seem sensible of the services we had rendered.
The ill-fated vessel was the Phoenix of London, bound for Richmond and other parts of Virginia with a full cargo and a great number of settlers, mostly men of means who were dissatisfied with the state of things at home, and hoped to live with greater freedom in the New World. Many of them had lost their all, yet the worst sufferers seemed by far the most stouthearted of the forlorn crowd.
The Phoenix was but four days out from the Downs when, just after sunset, the alarm of fire was raised, and soon dense volumes of smoke were seen issuing from the fore hatch, apparently from the lamp and oil room. Already the flames had taken a good hold, and in spite of the utmost efforts of the crew, aided by many of the passengers, the fire steadily gained, till just before midnight the order was given to abandon the ship.
Directly the whole of the passengers and crew were embarked, the boats pushed off and shaped a course for the Lizard, and having the burning ship 'twixt them and us, they were prevented by the thick cloud of smoke and the roar of the flames from seeing our lights or hearing our signal guns.
Daylight showed them our sails well down to the west'ard, so, on making sure that we were proceeding in their direction, they abandoned the attempt to reach land, and waited for us to come up. 'Twas as well they did so, for all were of the opinion that none of the boats would have reached shore.
Having been unable to change my saturated clothing, the after cabins being, as I have said, given over to the women, I borrowed some clothes from one of the men, putting on a thick pilot coat over all, for the air was raw, especially after our lengthy sojourn in the Tropics.
Then, to regain warmth, I began to pace the deck vigorously. In the midst of my walk the poop door opened, and a girl appeared. In spite of her quaint appearance--for she wore a skirt fashioned from a red blanket and a coat that belonged to Captain Jeremy--my heart gave a sudden bound, for I was face to face with my sister Constance!
CHAPTER XXXII
Constance's Story
The surprise and recognition were mutual. Only the untoward state of my sister's garments prevented her from throwing herself into my arms. As it was, she could only grasp my hand and exclaim: