Then an explosion, that seemed to the anxious prisoners as if the building itself had been destroyed, sent them reeling to the farthest limits of their narrow prison. They clutched the hot wall for support. The mingled smoke of powder and burning wood was so thick that they could see but a few feet. Phil felt a sharp pain and glanced down with horror to see blood flowing down his leg. He knew he had been wounded; he did not know how seriously. He peered through the thick smoke for his companions. Sydney was near him, his clothes torn, showing the effects of the explosion. O’Neil was not visible. Phil groped through the suffocating smoke toward the door. He heard a crash of splintered wood accompanied by a glad cry from the sailor, and then the cell was lit up by a red glow of fire through the hole made by the boatswain’s mate in the oaken door. O’Neil stood, peering through the breach; the explosion of the shell had started, and he had, with his powerful hands, enlarged it. His glance was calm, but the sight, to Phil, was calculated to unnerve the stoutest heart. The hall outside was a veritable furnace, and it was their only road to safety. They were surely lost. How could they pass through this scorching heat alive? “Come, it’s our only chance,” cried O’Neil. “It’s sure death here. The building may fall at any minute.” [Illustration: _THE THREE PRISONERS RUSHED THROUGH THE FLAMES_] Singly the Americans crawled from the comparative cool of their cell to the hall, through the breach in the door. The door of the building had been left open by the retreating guards, and showed white through the red glare of the flames. Hand in hand the three prisoners rushed through the scorching flames. The red tongues reached out on all sides toward their retreating forms. A second afterward they were all buried in sand up to their necks in order to quench the smouldering fire in their clothes. “I thought our numbers were made[1] that time,” exclaimed O’Neil when they had succeeded in extinguishing the flames. “It was that shell what done the business. I’d like to see the man who fired it. I’d give him my month’s pay. The shell exploded just on the outside of the door and splintered it so that I could get my hands on the pieces. But come, this is none too safe, we must get to the seashore.” With shells exploding over their heads they ran pell-mell through the deserted town to the beach. As a view of the sea flashed before the lads, they cried out in excitement. The dark hull of a war vessel steamed a quarter of a mile off shore. They saw the bright flashes from her gun ports followed by a harsh screech of shell and then a crash and explosion which seemed to be at their very feet. O’Neil looked about him.