About eight o’clock in the evening
We all wait in silence , some few on the forecastle , the great proportion of us on the poop . As for the picrate , for the time we have quite forgotten its existence ; indeed it might almost seem as though its explosion would come as a relief , for no catastrophe , however terrible , could far exceed the torture of our suspense . While he had still the remaining chance , Curtis rescued from the store-room such few provisions as the heat of the compartment allowed him to obtain ; and a lot of cases of salt meat and biscuits , a cask of brandy , some barrels of fresh water , together with some sails and wraps , a compass and other instruments are now lying packed in a mass all ready for prompt removal to the boats whenever we shall be obliged to leave the ship . About eight o'clock in the evening , a noise is heard , distinct even above the raging of the hurricane . The panels of the deck are upheaved , and volumes of black smoke issue upwards as if from a safety-valve . An universal consternation seizes one and all : we must leave the volcano which is about to burst beneath our feet . The crew run to Curtis for orders .