The Feu Follette was already doing her best; that is, the best under such sail as was safe to carry. But there, to windward, and yet two miles distant, some part of the pirate village was burning, and none might say yet what part it was.

The one thing certain was that it could not be the great chamber. That was of rock; it might be destroyed by an explosion; never by fire. So there was a ring of exultation in Dolores’s tone when she sent the hail along:

“Loose both topsails and set them! Caliban, thou small villain, out and loose the outer jib. Main-sheet here! Oh, haul, bullies! Flat — more yet — so, belay!”

Then the girl flung the man from the wheel, seized the spokes herself, and began to nurse the schooner to windward