Elizabeth sped round the circle, drawing near to one of the hatchways when she tripped on a bit of rope that should have been coiled, her large skirt swooshing out to the side. One of the youngest sailors, the one Mr. Boyd had caught thieving, reached for something, but before Ann could take in the whole of the scene, there was a crash of glass and Elizabeth screamed.
“Fire!” the boy yelled.
Red and orange flames licked the hem of Elizabeth’s dress. Ann raced to help her. Oil from the overturned lamp spilled dangerously down the smooth boards. The fire chased it in its wake, lighting one of the ropes on fire, which burned like a fuse toward a larger coil of rigging. Some of the oil ran toward a food barrel, and the fire followed it, drinking up the path, and igniting the bottom of the wood. Damage to the supplies and ship was inevitable, but saving Elizabeth was paramount.
“Hold still!” Ann yelled, grasping both sides of Elizabeth’s skirt and beating them together.
More flames crawled up Elizabeth’s dress, and Ann swatted the fabric together with increased force. Heat and smoke filled her nostrils as she attempted to stifle the flames, but they outran her. She continued, breathless and terrified until Brother Wheatley snatched the skirt out of her hands.
His large hands worked quickly, more successful at smothering the cloth. “Bring water,” he yelled to another one of the passengers, and a few people went scurrying off.
Ann watched as Brother Wheatley worked, and within another minute, the dress was no longer a threat, but quite badly singed. Relieved, she finally glanced around.
Ann felt the heat before she saw the river of fire that roared across the deck.
“Get back, all of you,” the familiar voice of Mr. Boyd ordered as he rushed toward them. “Flynn!” he yelled toward the bow and gestured to the rising fire.
Like the other passengers near her, Ann pressed against the side of the railing as Mr. Boyd jumped into the fray. He plunged toward the large coil of rope and the small sailor next to it and swatted at the snake of fire that wove toward him. Flames seemed to jump all about, but Ann noticed Mr. Boyd’s decisive actions. At one point she thought perhaps his shirtsleeve had caught on fire, but the smoke and the flames grew so rapidly, she soon lost sight of Mr. Boyd behind them.
The boatswain gave a unique whistle call, and sailors started running toward the waist of the deck. Within moments, more sailors emerged from hatches. Mr. Crenshaw and Mr. Flynn came too, joining Mr. Boyd to help with the largest fire.
Some of the sailors worked to put out the lesser flames, others carried buckets and sand, dousing the rope and swabbing the deck to remove the oil once the immediate danger was gone. The biggest fire still raged, inching closer to the main mast.
Ann’s mind was dizzy with the commotion, but she attempted to see through the smoke. She couldn’t make out specific forms. What had happened to Mr. Boyd?
Finally, the mass of sailors started to break up, and every flame appeared extinguished.
The second mate, Mr. Crenshaw, strode across the deck toward them. “Are you all right?” he said in his gruff voice to Elizabeth.
“Yes,” she replied, her voice shaking. “I am so very sorry. I didn’t see the lantern there. It is broad daylight, after all.”
“That fool of a seaman came from the deepest part of the hull with it but didn’t take the correct precautions to extinguish it. Do not blame yourself. Itwas an error on the sailor’s part. He will be thoroughly punished. He could have set the whole ship on fire!”
The captain walked across the deck and crossed his arms. “The boatswain shall dole the punishment, Mr. Crenshaw, as is always customary.”
“But it was an accident!” Elizabeth called. “It was my fault. I lost my footing, and I shouldn’t have been moving so fast.”
The captain turned toward her. “A sailor ought never leave a light unattended anywhere on the ship. Mr. Rollins should have known better.”
The second mate raised his hand. “Which is why I think he ought to suffer—”
“Mr. Crenshaw.” The captain’s voice was loud and slow and deliberate. “As I said”—he cut a glare in the man’s direction—“our boatswain, Mr. Flynn, will deal with Mr. Rollins.”
Mr. Crenshaw’s jaw flexed, and he turned to the group. “You passengers, it is time you cease this ridiculous game and be on your way.”
As the passengers dissipated, the captain gathered the sailors together and gave a stern speech to all of them, including adding more drills to their workload. Ann studied the group but couldn’t see Mr. Flynn or Mr. Boyd among them.
“I’m so glad you are both safe.” Brother Wheatley looked directly at Ann and then sent a concerned glance toward Elizabeth. “Shall we turn in?”
Elizabeth agreed and Ann slid her arm through her friend’s.
Elizabeth studied the ground. “I feel dreadful.”
“Accidents happen,” Ann said. “Any one of us could have done that.”
Elizabeth dipped her head, her mouth set in a dour line. Brother Wheatley retrieved his violin case and tucked it under his arm.
The three of them walked to the hatchway, and Ann turned to her friend. “I’ll come check on you later,” she said softly.
