Howard, the captain’s seven year old son, considered the turtle a new kind of steed, and bestrode its broad back in great glee. The bare-footed youngster was brown as a berry, and carried a toy sailor which had been christened Lord Nelson. The fact that his lordship was minus an arm only increased the affection with which he had been regarded for two years past, when he supplanted a golden haired doll, which Howard soon after consigned to a watery grave.
Captain Stafford had been standing by the main hatch, watching the turtle, and seeing to it that his reckless son did not get a finger bitten off, when he became sensible of a faint, almost imperceptible odor. It was so vague as to be almost intangible—probably not half a dozen on board would have noticed it even had they stood where the captain did then. At first he tried to think it might be only imagination, and this view of the matter was strengthened when he walked to another part of the deck not far off and detected no odor whatever. He returned to his former position and sniffed the air as a hound does when scenting danger. Again that slight smell of gas.
Captain Stafford knew what sort of a cargo was stowed under his feet, and from that moment he thought no more of the turtle. Walking to the carpenter-shop, he beckoned to its occupant. “Carpenter, get the main hatch off at once.”
Cardiff coal is extraordinarily liable to spontaneous combustion, and not a few of the many ships that carry it from Cardiff and Swansea all over the world catch fire. Often the danger is discovered in time to be checked, but one of the peculiarities of this cargo is, that it may burn for days and even weeks in the center of the mass without giving the least sign, only to break forth at last in uncontrollable fury. The Lochleven carried 4,000 tons of this commodity, consigned to San Francisco.
The carpenter brought out his tools and began removing the hatch-cover, while such of the crew as were aloft “tarring down” the rigging wondered what this unusual proceeding meant. The moment the aperture was laid open the nostrils of those who looked down were saluted by a smell like that of a sulphur match that has been lighted and then immediately extinguished. It was not overpowering, and the captain was the first man to descend the ladder. The carpenter followed with an iron testing-rod, and then the mate, with several of his watch. The latter were equipped with spades. Placing his hand upon the coal, the captain found it slightly warm on the surface, and the crew commenced digging according to his directions. Then the carpenter inserted the testing-rod, which was withdrawn presently, and showed that no fire existed thereabout, although the coals were badly heated.
“Now, carpenter, take off the other hatches, and use the tester in the other parts of the ship. And you, Mr. Maitland, get the rest of your watch down from aloft. Let them bring below every spade on board, and dig trenches wherever the coal is heated.”
The captain’s lungs were not strong and he was seized with a fit of coughing, brought on by inhaling gas. This compelled him to go on deck for a time, and he saw Mrs. Stafford approaching.
“What is wrong, Edward, and why are the hatches being opened? You look troubled.”
“Nothing serious, I hope. The cargo is badly heated, but we find no fire as yet.”
Mrs. Stafford glanced at her husband interrogatively, as if to divine whether he concealed anything. She was a woman of commanding presence, and though hardly thirty-five, her abundant hair was perfectly white.