It was a little before this period that one of the officers of the ship, with the well-meant intention of ascertaining that all was fast below, descended with a lantern. He discovered one of the spirit-casks adrift, and sent two or three sailors for some billets of wood to secure it. While they were absent, he unfortunately dropped the lamp, and letting go his hold of the cask in his eagerness to recover it, the former suddenly stove, and the spirits communicating with the light, the whole deck at that part was speedily in a blaze. The fire spread rapidly, and all their efforts at extinguishing it were vain, although bucket after bucket of water, wet sails and hammocks, were immediately applied. The smoke began to ascend the hatchway, and although every effort was made to keep the passengers in ignorance, the terrible news soon spread that the ship was on fire. As long as the devouring element appeared to be confined to the spot where the fire originated, and which they were assured was surrounded on all sides with water-casks, there was some hope that it might be subdued; but soon the light-blue vapour that at first arose was succeeded by volumes of thick, dingy smoke, which ascended through all the hatchways and rolled over the ship. A thorough panic took possession of most on board. The deck was covered with six hundred men, women, and children, many almost frantic with excitement—wives seeking their husbands, children their mothers; strong men appearing as though their reason was overthrown, weak men maudlin and weeping; many good people on their knees in earnest prayer. Some of the older and more stout-hearted soldiers and sailors sullenly took their seats directly over the powder-magazine, expecting momentarily that it would explode and put them out of their misery. A strong pitchy smell suddenly wafted over the ship. “The flames have reached the cable-tier!” exclaimed one; and it was found to be too true. The fire had now extended so far, that there was but one course to pursue: the lower decks must be swamped. Captain Cobb, the commander of the _Kent_, was a man of action, and, with an ability and decision that seemed only to increase with the imminence of the danger, ordered the lower decks to be scuttled, the coverings of the hatches removed, and the lower ports opened to the free admission of the waves. His instructions were speedily obeyed, the soldiers aiding the crew. The fury of the flames was, of course, checked; but several sick soldiers and children, and one woman, unable to gain the upper deck, were drowned, and others suffocated. As the risk of explosion somewhat diminished, a new horror arose. The ship became water-logged, and presented indications of settling down. Death in two forms stared them in the face.