Then he was there, at the ladder, his hands finding the wood rungs. Jack hauled himself up the ladder, clawing his way up. By the time he got to the top, and climbed over the rail, flames had engulfed the foremast, climbing the wood as agilely as any top man.

With a gasp that was half sob, Jack turned, heading for his cabin.

[...]

The deck jumped and lurched. Everything slid around again, including Jack. He fetched up against the door, and the chest slammed into him. A tongue of flame erupted through the door, and suddenly his left sleeve was on fire. Yelling, gasping, Jack tried to beat out the flames with his right hand.

He heard another hideous groan, and glanced up, just in time to see the overhead skylight collapsing, coming down on top of him.