By the time the wind had shifted slightly I was half choked, and staggered against the rail to recover my breath. The jolly-boat had reached the water in safety, and the sailors and Captain Hannock were not long in entering it. I tried to shout to them, but the sound only ended in a violent cough, due to the smoke, which every moment was getting thicker.
At last I got my wind, and then cried out at the top of my voice,
"Help! Stop the boat! Help!"
No one paid the slightest attention.
"Pull away, boys," I heard Captain Hannockcall out; and an instant later the jolly-boat had left the schooner's side!
In vain I repeated my cry. If the master of the Spitfire heard me, he gave no heed, and as for the sailors, they were too busy doing their duty to give me a thought.
Deserted! Left to fight for life amidst the flames! Oh, how bitterly I realized the awful position in which I was placed!
The wind blew in such a manner that soon the jolly-boat was hidden from view by the smoke. Evidently all had left the schooner in safety but myself.
What was I to do now? Had my hands been free
