A dark, confused mass appeared some way out at sea. It was a vessel whose
position could be seen by her lights, for she carried a white one on
her foremast, a green on the starboard side, and a red on the outside.
She was evidently running straight on the rocks.
"A ship in distress?" said Ryan.
"Ay," answered one of the fishermen, "and now they want to tack,
but it's too late!"
"Do they want to run ashore?" said another.
"It seems so," responded one of the fishermen, "unless he has
been misled by some--"
The man was interrupted by a yell from Jack. Could the crew
have heard it? At any rate, it was too late for them to beat back
from the line of breakers which gleamed white in the darkness.
But it was not, as might be supposed, a last effort of Ryan's to warn
the doomed ship. He now had his back to the sea. His companions
turned also, and gazed at a spot situated about half a mile inland.
It was Dundonald Castle. A long flame twisted and bent under the gale,
on the summit of the old tower.
"The Fire-Maiden!" cried the superstitious men in terror.
Clearly, it needed a good strong imagination to find any human
likeness in that flame. Waving in the wind like a luminous flag,
it seemed sometimes to fly round the tower, as if it was just going out,
and a moment after it was seen again dancing on its blue point.
"The Fire-Maiden! the Fire-Maiden!" cried the terrified
fishermen and peasants.
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