We passed out into the dining saloon—a counterpart, I learned later, of the dining-room in Mr. Gale’s former cottage at Hillcrest. We were presently joined by a stout and grizzled man of perhaps sixty, with a slight sinister obliquity in one eye. He was arrayed in a handsome blue uniform, and was presented to me as Mr. Joseph Biffer, captain of the Billowcrest. I was pleasantly surprised to see that Mr. Sturritt was also to be with us. The customs on the Billowcrest, as I presently learned, were quite democratic, and William Sturritt, though nominally steward, remained the trusted friend and companion of Chauncey Gale, as he had been for many years. It is true there was an officers’ mess, at which both Mr. Sturritt and Captain Biffer usually preferred to dine, but at the Admiral’s table (they had conferred the title of Admiral on Gale) there was always a welcome for his officers, while on occasions such as this they were often present by request. Gale and his daughter were seated at opposite 50ends of the table, Ferratoni and myself next Miss Gale, while Captain Biffer and Mr. Sturritt occupied the same relative position to the Admiral.

The Admiral wasted no time in coming to the fun.

“Captain Biffer,” he said, “we want you to take us to the South Pole.”

Mr. Biffer continued the grim process of seasoning his soup for several seconds without replying. Perhaps some rumor of the expedition had already come to him. Then he fixed his sound eye severely on Gale, while he withered the rest of us, and particularly myself, with the other.

“When do you want to start?” he asked.

There was that about Mr. Biffer’s tone and attitude which indicated, so far as he was concerned, an entire lack of humor in the proposition. Even Gale, I thought, seemed a trifle subdued as he answered:

“Oh, I don’t know; we’ll consider that after Mr. Chase has told us what we are going to need to be ready. In three or four months, perhaps.”

Once more the deflected vision of Captain Biffer laid its scorn heavily upon us.

“And get down there and stuck in the ice below Cape Horn about the middle of March, just when their winter and six months’ night begins.”

It was a clean hit for the Captain, and I gave him credit. Gale was clearly out of it for the time being, 51and looked at me helplessly. His very dismay, however, encouraged me. A man must be in earnest, I thought, to look like that. I hastened to his rescue.

“I have naturally considered the Antarctic solar conditions,” I said, with some dignity, though I confess that with the Captain’s piercing searchlight upon me, the latter was not easy to maintain. “I am aware that their seasons are opposed to ours, and that the year at the poles is divided into a day and a night of six months each.”

Gale, who had been regarding me anxiously, at this point relieved himself in an undertone.

“Six months,” he murmured. “Think of going out to make a night of it in a country like that! Oh, Lord, what is life without a latch-key?”

“I have considered these facts,” I repeated, “and while a period of several months of semi-darkness and cold is not a cheering anticipation to those accustomed to the more frequent recurrence of sunlight, I am convinced that, under favorable conditions, it is not altogether a hardship; also, that in the pleasant climate which I believe exists about the earth’s axis, the extended interval of darkness and semi-twilight would be still less disturbing, and may have been overcome in a measure, or altogether, by the inhabitants there, through artificial means.”

52I could see that Chauncey Gale was reviving somewhat as I proceeded, and this gave me courage to continue, in spite of the fact that the Captain’s contempt was only too manifest. As for Mr. Sturritt, he was non-committal, while Ferratoni appeared to have drifted off into a dream of his own. But Edith Gale sustained me with the unshaken confidence in her eyes, and my strength became as the strength of ten.

“As for the time of starting,” I continued——

“Wait,” interrupted Gale, “go over the whole scheme again for the benefit of those who didn’t hear it before. Then we can consider ways and means afterwards.”

Accordingly, and for the third time that day, I carefully reviewed my theories and plans for the expedition. As I proceeded I observed that Captain Biffer’s contempt softened into something akin to pity, while, on the other hand, Chauncey Gale rapidly regained his buoyant confidence.

“That’s where you come in, Bill,” he laughed, as I spoke of the balloon car and its condensed stores.

Mr. Sturritt nodded eagerly.

“And you, Johnnie,” as I referred again to the possible inhabitants in the undiscovered world.

“And Mr. Ferratoni is not to be left out,” answered Miss Gale. “Mr. Chase says that a wireless 53telephone is the one thing needed to make his plan perfect.”

“To keep the balloon in communication with the ship, in event of our making the voyage overland would be of the greatest advantage,” I admitted, “if it can be done.”

Ferratoni’s face flushed.

“Yes, oh, yes,” he said anxiously, “it can be done. It is the chance.”

“And would you be willing to go on a voyage like that, and leave behind your opportunities of recognition and fortune?” I asked.

Ferratoni’s face grew even more beautiful.

“Fortune? Recognition?” He spoke musically, and his English was almost perfect. “It is not those that I would care for. It is the pursuing of the truth, the great Truth! Electricity—it is but one vibration. There are yet many others—thought, life, soul! Wireless communication—the answering of electric chords—it’s but a step toward the fact, the proving of the Whole Fact. To-day we speak without wires across the city. Later, we shall speak across the world. Still later, between the worlds—perhaps even—yes, yes, I will go! I have but shown the little step. I would have the time and place to continue. And then the new world too—yes, oh, yes, I will go, of a certainty!”

A respectful silence had fallen upon the table. 54Chauncey Gale’s face showed thoughtful interest. Mr. Biffer was evidently impressed. Me he had regarded as a crazy land-lubber with fool notions of navigation. In Ferratoni he acknowledged a man of science—a science he did not understand and therefore regarded with reverence and awe. Edith Gale’s face wore the exalted expression which always gave it its greatest beauty. For myself, I had been far from unmoved by Ferratoni’s words. I felt that it would be hard to feel jealousy for a man like that, and still harder not to do so. Gale recovered first, and turned to me.

“What about the superintending of the balloon?” he asked. “Who have you got for that?”

I knew as little of practical ballooning as of navigation, but as a boy I had experimented in chemistry, and the manufacture of gases. More lately I had done some reading, and I had ideas on the subject. I said therefore, with becoming modesty, that I had made some study of aeronautics and that, as the science had not yet progressed much beyond the first principles of filling a bag with gas and waiting until the wind was in the right quarter, I believed I might safely undertake to oversee this feature of the enterprise, including the construction of the boat-sledge-car combination.

“And I can take a hand in that, too,” said Gale.

55“I’ve got a pretty good mechanical head myself; I’ve planned and built about a million houses, first and last. Commuters say I can get more closets and cubbyholes into a six-room cottage than anybody else could set on the bare lot. I’ll take care of that boat. Now, how about the time, Chase? When do we start?”

“I had thought,” I answered, “that it might require a year for preparation. If we started a year from now, or a little later, we would reach the Antarctics easily by the beginning of the day or summer season, and might, I believe, hope to reach a desirable position at or near the ice-barrier by the beginning of the winter night. During this we would make every added preparation for the inland excursion to be undertaken on the following summer——”

“Say, we’d be apt to get some frost on our pumpkins laying up against an ice-wall through a six months’ night, wouldn’t we?” interrupted Gale.

I called attention to the comfort with which Nansen and his associates had passed through an Arctic night with far fewer resources than we should have on a vessel like the Billowcrest.

“Look here,” said Gale, “what’s the use of waiting a year? Why not go this year?”

“Why,” I suggested, “we could hardly get ready. There will be food supplies to get together, 56instruments, implements, the balloon, and then the engaging of such scientists as you might wish to take along——”

“Scientists,” interrupted Gale, “what kind?”

“Well, perhaps a meteorologist, a geologist, an ornithologist——”

“See here, what are all those things? What are they for?”

“To observe and record conditions,” I said. “An ornithologist, for instance, would classify and name any new birds that we might find in the Southern Hemisphere, and an——”

“Hold on,” interrupted Gale, “we don’t want any of that yet. We’ll discover the country first. We’ve got science enough right here to do that, I guess, if anybody has. Besides I’m a pretty good hand at naming things myself, and if we find any strange animals or birds wandering about down there without titles, I’ll just give ’em some.”

“Oh, Papa,” laughed Miss Gale.

“Why, yes, of course; and now as to those other things. Mr. Sturritt here can give an order in five minutes for enough provision to last ten years, and have it on board in twenty-four hours. Whatever instruments and material you need for your balloon and telephone machine can be had about as quick, I’m thinking, and if we need any mechanics of any kind I can put my finger on a hundred of them to-morrow. 57If we’ve got to lay up six months against an ice-wall we’ll want something to do, and will have time enough to build things to fit the case in hand. What I want to know is, if we can be ready to start from here in a week, so’s we’ll miss this winter up here and get safe in the arms of that ice-wall before winter sets in down there! I’m simply pining to get up against that two thousand foot ice-bluff, and I don’t want to wait a year to do it. What do you say, Bill, can we be ready to start from here in a week?”

My heart sank. It was but a huge joke then, after all, and this was his way out of it. But Sturritt, who knew him, was taking it seriously.

“Yes—that is—why certainly, in—er—three days!” he said with nervous haste.

“I can be ready to-morrow,” said Ferratoni, quietly.

“I am ready to start to-night,” said Edith Gale.

I hastened to add that the materials needed for the balloon could doubtless be procured without delay.

“And you, Biffer?” Gale turned to the Captain who had been a silent unprotesting martyr during this proceeding. “Are you ready to start in a week for the South Pole?”

“Admiral,” said the Captain solemnly, and making a sincere effort to fix him with both eyes at once, 58“you own this boat and I’m hired to sail it. I don’t believe in no South Pole, but if there is one, I don’t know of a better place for a crowd like this. And if you give the order to go to the South Pole, I’ll take you to the South Pole, and sail off into space when we get there, if you say so!”

Mr. Biffer’s remarks were greeted with applause and a round of merriment in which the Captain paid himself the tribute of joining.

“We’ll have the balloon for navigating space, Captain Biffer,” said Edith Gale.

“And my opinion is that we’ll need it, ma’am, if we ever get back.”

But amid the now general enthusiasm Chauncey Gale had sprung to his feet. There was a flush of excitement on his full handsome face, and when he spoke there was a ring of decision in his voice.

“Everybody in favor of starting a week from to-day, for the South Pole, stand up!” he said.

There was a universal scramble. Captain Biffer was first on his feet. Gale seized a glass of wine and holding it high above his head, continued:

“To the Great Billowcrest Expedition! Missionary work for Johnnie; electricity for Ferratoni; balloons for Chase; tablets for Bill; the ship for the Captain; homes and firesides for me, and the South Pole for us all!”