It was true that the captain of the _Erratic_ was married, and therefore uninteresting; the first lieutenant, too, was so grave and reserved, that, though interesting, he was inaccessible. It was whispered that he had been crossed in love, and was not to be consoled by any of the fair young beings, who, in their warm compassion, would readily have undertaken that task. But though disconsolate, he was not ill-natured; he was always ready to accommodate more happy individuals by exchanging duties, or such other kindnesses as were required, so that all agreed that Duncan was the best fellow in the world. It was evening, a social party surrounded the Governor’s table, among whom sat Captain Hepburn, who was a special favorite there. Suddenly the alarm of fire in the town was raised, no uncommon event when nearly the whole of the buildings were of wood. But there was on this occasion apparently more danger, or more fear than usual; the sounds of the uproar reached the dining-room, where Sir Charles was entertaining his guests; and in a few minutes the table was deserted, the whole party of gentlemen sallying forth to see what was going on. There was reason for the outcry. The dark canopy of heavy smoke, reddened up to the zenith by the reflection of the fire; the crackling long tongues of fierce flames, which shot up high above the roofs, and leaping madly off, like disembodied spirits for a moment visible, ascended to the sky; the loud pealing of the startling alarum; the cries and shouts; the rush of many feet; the heavy roll of the fire-engines, tearing helter-skelter to the spot, all combined to show that this was no common conflagration. One whole block of houses was so completely in a blaze that to isolate the flame by pulling down others, and cutting off communication, seemed the only thing left to do. There were no lives in jeopardy, but property to a large amount was in danger; the presence of the Governor gave a stimulus to exertion, and all worked with a will; sailors, soldiers, firemen, towns-people and strangers. The scene was awfully grand, as scenes where fire has the mastery must be. Other elements are majestic in their might, but none have such a character as fire. The energy, self-will, malice, and cruel vigor of this fearful power, give the beholders an idea of life which no other can present. Yes, living fire is its fitting appellation. Living: a life instinct with the spirit of mischief, such as nothing earth-born can compare with. And while all worked as if for life and death, and the enemy still rose and triumphed, seeming at once to invite and mock their efforts――another alarm was raised of the same nature in a quarter at some distance from the first. Whether the fire had crept along the ground, or been carried by a burning brand, or sprang up from some internal cause, could not be known; it was too certain that there it was, and part of the crowd moved off in that direction to ascertain the cause.