‘What were you doing there?’ thundered the skipper; ‘come, sir, no nonsense with me. The lives of the whole ship’s company have been endangered, and I _will_ find out the cause. What did you come down for? Tell me at once. As captain of this vessel, I have a right to question you.’ Harold Greenwood had heard of other rights possessed by the captain of a vessel, such as putting mutinous subjects under arrest, and fearful of what the consequences of telling an untruth might be, he stammered out that he only came down to fetch a cigarette. ‘And where did you light your cigarette, Mr Greenwood?’ continued the captain relentlessly. ‘In the berth,’ blurted out the young man, ‘but I threw the match into the basin, don’t you know? I am _sure_ I did. I always do; and that can’t do any harm, eh?’ ‘Steward, go with Mr Greenwood, and get the lucifer out of the basin,’ said the skipper; and whilst Harold tremblingly followed the servant, the captain leaned his head upon his hand, and seemed lost in thought. The search was unsuccessful. No trace of a burnt lucifer could be found in the basin. ‘But I’m _sure_ I did,’ stammered Greenwood. ‘_I_ will tell you what you did, Mr Greenwood,’ interrupted the captain angrily. ‘You lighted your cigarette, and dropped the still burning match into the box, and set fire to my vessel. You are well aware that smoking is prohibited in the saloon, yet by your disobedience and carelessness you have endangered the lives of my passengers and crew. Had it not been for the presence of mind of my second officer, the whole ship would have been blown out of the water.’ ‘I’m sure, sir, I’m very sorry, don’t you know?’ ‘_Sorry_, sir! what use would your being sorry have been when we were all dead men? You’re a fool, sir, that’s what you are--a d--d fool! You can leave me now. I shall enter the facts as they occurred, into my official log, and you will be charged with the damages, and I only hope your father may stop your allowance in consequence, and leave you less money to waste on cigarettes and matches, for the future. I have nothing further to say to you, sir, and you can go.’ Harold Greenwood sneaked out of the austere presence, looking very small and pitiful, and found to his horror, on reaching the deck, that the whole conversation had been overheard by the inquisitive passengers, who had listened attentively to it through the skylight. And he had the further mortification of hearing Jack Blythe’s cool-headed pluck lauded on all sides, by the same tongues that reproached him for his stupidity and want of care. ‘Allow me to congratulate you, Blythe,’ said Captain Lovell, ‘you possess all the attributes of a hero.’ ‘We owe you a vote of thanks,’ added Mr Vansittart. ‘Had it not been for your courage, sir, we might all have been blown to smithereens by this time, and our limbs scattered to the four quarters of the globe.’