Chapter 16 - Page 2

and the gloom of a bitter
disappointment began to weigh upon our spirits.

In another hour the mists had totally disappeared, and it was
broad daylight. I and M. Letourneur stood watching Curtis as he
continued eagerly to scan the western horizon. Astonishment was
written on his countenance; to him it appeared perfectly
incredible that, after our course for so long had been due south
from the Bermudas, no land should be in sight. But not a speck,
however minute, broke the clearly-defined line that joined sea
and sky. After a time Curtis made his way along the netting to
the shrouds, and swung himself quickly up to the top of the
mainmast. For several minutes he remained there examining the
open space around, then seizing one of the backstays he glided
down and rejoined us on the poop.

"No land in sight," he said, in answer to our eager looks of
inquiry.

At this point Mr. Kear interposed, and in a gruff, ill-tempered
tone, asked Curtis where we were. Curtis replied that he did not
know.

"You don't know, sir? Then all I can say is that you ought to
know!" exclaimed the petroleum merchant.

"That may be, sir; but at present I am as ignorant of our
whereabouts as you are yourself," said Curtis.

"Well," said Mr. Kear, "just please to know that I don't want to
stay for ever on your everlasting ship, so I beg you will make
haste and start off again."

Curtis condescended to make no other reply than a shrug of the
shoulders, and turning away he informed M. Letourneur and myself
that if the sun came out he intended to take its altitude and
find out to what part of the ocean we had been driven. His next
care was to distribute preserved meat and biscuit amongst the
passengers and crew already half fainting with hunger and
fatigue, and then he set to work to devise measures for setting
the ship afloat.

The conflagration was greatly abated; no flames now appeared, and
although some black smoke still issued from the interior, yet its
volume was far less than before. The first step was to discover
how much water had entered the hold. The deck was still too hot
to walk upon; but after two hours' irrigation the boards became
sufficiently cool for the boatswain to proceed to take some
soundings, and he shortly afterwards announced that there were
five feet of water below. This the captain determined should not
be pumped out at present, as he wanted it thoroughly to do its
duty before he got rid of it.

The next subject for consideration was whether it would be
advisable to abandon the vessel, and to take refuge on the reef.
Curtis thought not; and the lieutenant and the boatswain agreed
with him. The chances of an explosion were greatly diminished,