When the flame took hold of the wick, so that I could look about me, I saw the lady Aurelia lying among the smashed up gear to leeward. She had been lying down, reading in a sort of bunk which had been rigged up for her on the locker-top. The shock had flung her clean out of the bunk on to the deck. At the same moment an avalanche of gear had fetched to leeward. A cask had rolled on to her left hand, pinning her down to the deck, while a box of bottles had cut the back of her head. A more complete picture of misery you could not hope to see. There was all the ill-smelling jumble of steward's gear, tumbled in a heap of smash, soaking in the oil from the fallen lamp. There was a good deal of blood about. Aurelia was lying in all the debris half covered with salted fish from one of the capsized casks. They looked like huge leaves. She seemed to have been buried under them, like a babe in the wood. She grew calm when she saw me. “There are candles under the bunk,” she said. “Light two or three. Tell me what has happened.” I did not answer till I had lighted three or four more candles. “The ship's on her beam ends,” I said. “It's the captain's fault. But never mind that. I must get you out. Are you badly hurt, do you think?” “I'm all right,” she said with a gasp. “But it's being pinned in here. I thought I was going to be pinned down while I was being drowned.” “Shut your eyes, please,” I said. “Bite your lip. It'll hurt, I'm afraid, getting this cask off your hand. Are you ready. Now.” I did it as gently as I could; but it made me turn all cold to think of the hand under all that weight. “Can you withdraw your hand, now?” I asked, tilting the cask as far up as I could.