Montague followed, and they rowed away.
Just at that moment Surly Dick sprang on the bulwarks, and, holding on by the mizzen-shrouds, took off his hat and cheered: "Ha! ha!" he shrieked, with a fiendish laugh, "I've escaped you, have I?
escaped you--hurrah!" and with another wild shriek he leaped on the hot deck, and, seizing a bucket, resumed his self-imposed duty of deluging the fire with water.
"Pull, pull lads! We can't leave the miserable man to perish," cried Montague, starting up, while the men rowed after the frigate with their utmost might.

But in vain.

Already she was far from them, and ever increased the distance as she ran before the gale.
As long as the ship lasted the poor maniac was seen diligently pursuing his work; stopping now and then to spring on the bulwarks and give another cheer.
At last the blazing vessel left boats and schooner far behind, and the flames rose in great flakes and tongues above her top-masts, while the smoke rolled in dense black volumes away to leeward.
While the awe-stricken crew watched her, there came a sudden flash of bright white flame, as if a volcano had leaped out of the ocean.

The powder-magazine had caught.

It was followed by a roaring crash that seemed to rend the very heavens.