Now, though he flung her on to the edge of the hold, so that her knee and her elbow were grazed and bruised, she only cried:-- "No--not you--ME," and struggled up again.

But not quickly enough.
Peter had already gone down two of the cabin steps into the cloud of thick smoke.

He stopped, remembered all he had ever heard of fires, pulled his soaked handkerchief out of his breast pocket and tied it over his mouth.

As he pulled it out he said:-- "It's all right, hardly any fire at all." And this, though he thought it was a lie, was rather good of Peter.

It was meant to keep Bobbie from rushing after him into danger.