On reaching deck the sea was beneath, and the incandescent atmosphere around us. I saw Torrence through a yellow haze, holding fast to the lever, and cramming his handkerchief into his mouth. I staggered toward him with the bucket, and pressed a wet sponge upon his head; doing the same immediately for myself. The water saturated us, and enabled us to get our breath, which came in gasps. I plied the sponges constantly and regularly, at the same time watching the horizon for a change, with the deepest anxiety; but the sea was dazzling and the volatile gases which ascended both blinding and stifling. As far as the eye could reach, before, behind, and upon either side, great lurid flames leaped up from the ground, and beyond the limit of their powers this deadly vapor surrounded and penetrated every tissue of our being. At each breath, these poisonous gases burned and scorched their way into our lungs, shriveling our lips and throats like the fumes of sulphur. Again and again I rushed below for water, and again staggered on deck scarcely able to support my load. But it was not until the sixth or seventh trip, when the hair on our heads was positively singeing, and the skin or my brother’s face looked like parchment, that I made the fearful discovery that the water was nearly out! I was drawing upon the last cask. What was to be done? It would be useless to talk to Torrence; he would drive the air ship into hell before he would turn back, as he had already said. Should I endeavor to overpower him, seize the lever myself, and retreat, if indeed it were yet possible to do so? or should I die in furthering his insane determination? I crawled on deck with the last bucket of water, still undecided. "The water is out!" I yelled through the roaring of the flames. "Do you still persist?" Torrence did not answer, but pointed below, and in an agony of horror I saw what he meant. Our end was at hand; for the vessel was sinking into the fiery mass beneath. "It’s the heat!" he said hoarsely. "It’s too late to talk about returning. The fire has damaged the vibrator. We can’t keep her afloat an hour to save our souls; and the end may be nearer ahead than behind us!" He then stood quietly watching our gradual descent into the pestilential fumes with an indifference that amazed me. I should not say that he was indifferent, but that he had every appearance of it. We sank upon the deck, side by side, mopping ourselves with the last spongeful of water and wondering how soon the end would come. Suddenly Torrence jumped up and staggered to the rail. "It is cooler!" he shouted; "I feel it. We are still high above the fire. If we can keep afloat for ten minutes longer we are saved!" "How do you propose to do it?" I gasped. "Throw out the gold! Throw out the gold!" he roared,