That fire might almost have been some fierce, dragon-like monster, suddenly attacked by its most deadly foe, for in an instant there was a savage hiss, followed by a series of crackling explosions, sputtering, popping, and shrieking even. For the steam began to generate and rush up from the hold, instantaneously changing from its natural invisibility to dense white clouds of vapour, which rose and spread, and grew so thick that I could not see where to direct the jet of water, but had to trust to my ear for the spot to attack. "Hurray! hurray!" came faintly from forward, where the pump clanked steadily; and I responded to the cheer, but my voice was stilled by the hissing and shrieking arising from the hold. But I cheered again, and kept on, feeling quite excited, and more and more as if I were attacking a den of dragons, or serpents, so strangely unusual were the noises which followed every fresh direction of the stream. "I say, Dale, you shouldn't, you know," came from close by me, in a tone full of protest; and I quite started to see Mr Preddle's face looming out of the mist in which I was closely enveloped, and which grew more and more dense each minute. "I didn't do it on purpose," I shouted. "Oh, don't say that, Dale," he cried back, the voice sounding very peculiar through the hissing and shrieking of the steam. "I am quite ready to forgive you, my dear boy." "But I didn't really," I yelled. "Oh, Dale, don't--don't! Why, I saw you take aim at me with that thing across this dreadful gap." "I--can't talk--now," I shouted. Then, contradicting myself,--"Going to help pump?" "Yes; but what a fearful noise!--and you have made me so wet." "How are you getting on?" shouted Mr Frewen. "That's right." I could not see him for the steam; but his voice came from the other side of the deck, and I must have altered the direction of the jet a little, for a fresh series of explosions arose to prove how much more serious the hidden fire was than we could judge it to be from what was visible. Crick, crack, sputter, and then report after report, as loud as those made by a revolver, while each steam-shot was followed by a ball of white vapour which came rushing up as from the mouth of a gun. "Hurrah!" came from by the pump again, and Mr Preddle came slowly along to pass me and get forward. "I suppose I can get by you," he said. "No, no; don't try it," I cried excitedly. "I must not stir, and there is so little room. Go back and round with Mr Frewen." "No, no; I daren't." "The fire isn't there," I said, as the screaming and hissing were louder than ever. "I'm not so much afraid of the fire as I am of the water," cried Mr Preddle. "You want to squirt me again." I couldn't say "I don't," for his words tickled and yet annoyed me, so that I felt that I really did want to deluge him with the water from head to foot. "Will you promise me not to squirt if I go that way?" he shouted. "Honour--bright," I yelled. "Couldn't see you."