then near the rail on the starboard quarter, and, smoking my cigar, was
looking at the harbor disappearing behind the point round Cape
Apcheron, while the range of the Caucasus ran up into the western
horizon.

Of my cigar there remained only the end between my lips, and taking a
last whiff, I threw it overboard.

In an instant a sheet of flame burst out all round the steamer The
boiling came from a submarine spring of naphtha, and the cigar end had
set it alight.

Screams arise. The _Astara_ rolls amid sheaves of flame; but a movement
of the helm steers us away from the flaming spring, and we are out of
danger.

The captain comes aft and says to me in a frigid tone:

"That was a foolish thing to do."

And I reply, as I usually reply under such circumstances:

"Really, captain, I did not know--"

"You ought always to know, sir!"

These words are uttered in a dry, cantankerous tone a few feet away
from me.

I turn to see who it is.