By mounting on a chair at the rear Philip found he could get a sight over the heads of those before him to the deck. There was rushing and shouting there, but up the staircase came the thud of crows and axes and something like the dashing of buckets of water. Could there be a fire below, or above, on the Old Province? The idea made him pale. But lanterns flashing back and forth in the gray mist made the only light yet visible. There was no smell of smoke. Still, up the stairs came louder than ever the breaking open of boxes and a jargon of distant activity. It was as if the freight had to be shifted. He waited a few seconds longer, but there was no more to be learned yet; that was clear. It was better to get back to the state-room and try to keep Gerald quiet in the uncertainty. Perhaps it was no serious occurrence, after all.
He jumped from his perch and turned his heel on the excited company and the flickering lights and shadows. He could answer no questions that met even him, on all sides. Evidently there was suspense—mystery. Louder and louder roared the steam from the pipes; and the shouts from below and the thumping
