Jack Ryan and his companions ran up to them. The
shouts were, however, not for the inhabitants of the farm, but to warn

men who, without being aware of it, were going to destruction.
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 evidentlyrunning 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.

All was then explained. The ship, having lost her reckoning in the fog,
had taken this flame on the top of Dundonald Castle for the Irvine light.

She thought herself at the entrance of the Firth, ten miles to the north,
when she was really running on a shore which offered no refuge.

What could be done to save her, if there was still time? It was
too late. A frightful crash was heard above the tumult of the elements.

The vessel had struck. The white line of surf was broken for an instant;
she heeled over on her side and lay among the rocks.

At the same time, by a strange coincidence, the long flame disappeared,
as if it had been swept away by a violent gust. Earth, sea, and sky

were plunged in complete darkness.
"The Fire-Maiden!" shouted Ryan, for the last time, as the apparition,

which he and his companions believed supernatural, disappeared.
But then the courage of these superstitious Scotchmen,

which had failed before a fancied danger, returned in face
of a real one, which they were ready to brave in order to save

their fellow-creatures. The tempest did not deter them.
As heroic as they had before been credulous, fastening ropes

round their waists, they rushed into the waves to the aid
of those on the wreck.

Happily, they succeeded in their endeavors, although some--and bold
Jack Ryan was among the number--were severely wounded on the rocks.

But the captain of the vessel and the eight sailors who composed
his crew were hauled up, safe and sound, on the beach.

The ship was the Norwegian brig MOTALA, laden with timber, and bound
for Glasgow. Of the MOTALA herself nothing remained but a few spars,

washed up by the waves, and dashed among the rocks on the beach.
Jack Ryan and three of his companions, wounded like himself,

were carried into a room of Melrose Farm, where every care
was lavished on them. Ryan was the most hurt, for when with

the rope round his waist he had rushed into the sea, the waves
had almost immediately dashed him back against the rocks.

He was brought, indeed, very nearly lifeless on to the beach.
The brave fellow was therefore confined to bed for several days,

to his great disgust. However, as soon as he was given permission
to sing as much as he liked, he bore his trouble patiently,

and the farm echoed all day with his jovial voice.
But from this adventure he imbibed a more lively sentiment

of fear with regard to brownies and other goblins who amuse
themselves by plaguing mankind, and he made them responsible

for the catastrophe of the Motala. It would have been vain
to try and convince him that the Fire-Maidens did not exist,

and that the flame, so suddenly appearing among the ruins, was but
a natural phenomenon. No reasoning could make him believe it.

His companions were, if possible, more obstinate than he in
their credulity. According to them, one of the Fire-Maidens

had maliciously attracted the MOTALA to the coast. As to wishing
to punish her, as well try to bring the tempest to justice!

The magistrates might order what arrests they pleased, but a flame
cannot be imprisoned, an impalpable being can't be handcuffed.

It must be acknowledged that the researches which were ultimately
made gave ground, at least in appearance, to this superstitious

way of explaining the facts.
The inquiry was made with great care. Officials came to Dundonald Castle,

and they proceeded to conduct a most vigorous search.
The magistrate wished first to ascertain if the ground bore

any footprints, which could be attributed to other than goblins' feet.
It was impossible to find the least trace, whether old or new.

Moreover, the earth, still damp from the rain of the day before,
would have preserved the least vestige.

The result of all this was, that the magistrates only got for their
trouble a new legend added to so many others--a legend which would

be perpetuated by the remembrance of the catastrophe of the MOTALA,
and indisputably confirm the truth of the apparition of the Fire-Maidens.

A hearty fellow like Jack Ryan, with so strong a constitution,
could not be long confined to his bed. A few sprains and bruises

were not quite enough to keep him on his back longer than he liked.
He had not time to be ill.

Jack, therefore, soon got well. As soon as he was on his legs again,
before resuming his work on the farm, he wished to go and visit

his friend Harry, and learn why he had not come to the Irvine
merry-making. He could not understand his absence, for Harry

was not a man who would willingly promise and not perform.
It was unlikely" target="_blank" title="a.不像的；未必可能的">unlikely, too, that the son of the old overman had not

heard of the wreck of the MOTALA, as it was in all the papers.
He must know the part Jack had taken in it, and what had happened

to him, and it was unlike Harry not to hasten to the farm and see
how his old chum was going on.

As Harry had not come, there must have been something to prevent him.
Jack Ryan would as soon deny the existence of the Fire-Maidens as believe

in Harry's indifference.
Two days after the catastrophe Jack left the farm merily,

feeling nothing of his wounds. Singing in the fullness
of his heart, he awoke the echoes of the cliff, as he walked

to the station of the railway, which VIA Glasgow would take
him to Stirling and Callander.

As he was waiting for his train, his attention was attracted by a bill
posted up on the walls, containing the following notice:

"On the 4th of December, the engineer, James Starr,
of Edinburgh, embarked from Granton Pier, on board the Prince

of Wales. He disembarked the same day at Stirling. From that
time nothing further has been heard of him.

"Any information concerning him is requested to be sent to the President
of the Royal Institution, Edinburgh."

Jack Ryan, stopping before one of these advertisements,
read it twice over, with extreme surprise.

"Mr. Starr!" he exclaimed. "Why, on the 4th of December I
met him with Harry on the ladder of the Dochart pit!

That was ten days ago! And he has not been seen from that time!
That explains why my chum didn't come to Irvine."