Cold as it was, Jimmy lay for a long time on the sloop¹’s deck when he had been stripped of the diving gear. How he had crawled out of the hole and climbed the ladder was not clear to him; he thought that he must have untangled the line as he fell and have been driven forward by an overpowering longing² for the upper air.  
He found some trouble in explaining to Moran what had happened, for he felt limp and shaky yet. And he shuddered³ at the thought of going down again.
 
“When we once get the box out of the hold,” he said, “there should be no trouble in swinging it on board.”
 
Moran smoked out a pipe before he took his turn. When the copper⁴ helmet disappeared, Jimmy got a firm grip on the signal line; and while he waited he looked about.
 
The days were rapidly shortening, and the light was growing dim. The horizon seemed to be creeping in on them, obscured by smoky fog, which stirred and wreathed about as the wind sprang up. Small ripples⁵ were splashing round the sloop, and the swell⁶ was steeper.
 
“I hope Hank will manage to sling⁷ that box,” Jimmy said to Bethune, who nodded as he steadily⁸ turned the pump.
 
“We may get another turn or two, but that will be all. There’s a breeze behind the heave that’s working in.”
 
Neither of them said anything further, but waited with what patience they could summon until Moran came up.
 
“I got the box out of the hold before I was beat; the next man shouldn’t have much trouble in hitching⁹ a sling round it,” he said, and glanced out to sea as he added significantly: “He’d better get through mighty¹⁰ quick.”
 
A gust¹¹ of wind rent the fog, and a long, low mass, shining a dead, cold white, appeared in the gap. Then, while the haze¹² streamed back, another pale streak¹³ showed up on the opposite bow.
 
“They’re all around us!” Jimmy exclaimed hoarsely¹⁵.
 
The men were not easily daunted¹⁶, and they had borne enough in the North to harden them, but the sight was strangely impressive, and their courage sank. This was a peril¹⁷ with which none of them except Moran had grappled; and he had no cause for thinking light of it. The pack-ice was gathering¹⁸ round the island, hemming¹⁹ them in, and the sloop would be crushed like an eggshell unless she could avoid its grip. Then, to make things worse, a blast of bitter air whipped the men’s anxious faces, and the sea broke into short, angry ripples.
 
“We have got to quit,” said Moran despondently²⁰. “But I surely want that box.”
 
“You shall have it, if I can get the sling on,” Bethune replied. “Help me on with the dress as quick as you can.”
 
He flung a hasty glance about. A long raft of ice with ragged²¹ edges was drifting nearer, and the fog, disturbed by the rising breeze, rolled across the sea in woolly streamers.
 
“It looks as if I had to finish the job this time,” he said with a harsh laugh. “I no longer have the cheap hotel to fall back on.”
 
When he had been down for some time, Jimmy, turning the pump in obedience²² to the plucking of the signal line, began to wonder when he would come up. Bethune seemed particular about his air supply, and Jimmy surmised²³ that he found it needful to move the case along the bottom to get a clear lead for the lifting line because the Cetacea had altered her position. Moran put his hand on the crank when required, but at other times he stood motionless, watching the ice with an imperturbable²⁴ brown face. Indeed, Jimmy, as a relief from the tension, began to speculate about his comrade and wonder what he thought. Though they had toiled²⁵ hard and faced many perils²⁷ together with mutual²⁸ respect and confidence, he felt that he knew very little about the man. Moran’s reserve and stolid²⁹ serenity³⁰ were baffling. When strenuous³¹ action was required he could be relied upon, but even then he was seldom hurried, and his movements somehow suggested that his splendid frame was endowed with unreasoning, automatic powers. For all that, Jimmy knew that such a conception of his friend was wrong. He had seen the cool judgment³² and indomitable courage that controlled the man’s strength in time of heavy stress.
 
All this, however, was not of much consequence. Jimmy fixed³³ his eyes upon the frothing patch of bubbles that broke the troubled surface of the swell. It was stationary³⁴, and Bethune had already stayed below an unusual time. He was not in difficulties, because when Jimmy jerked the line he got a reassuring³⁵ signal in reply. It looked as if the man expected to bring up the case.
 
In the meanwhile the ice was driving nearer, propelled by wind and tide, and its low height suggested that it had formed in some shallow bight. If this were so, it might not ground before reaching the sloop. Still, its progress was not rapid, and Jimmy did not think there was any urgent need to recall Bethune, particularly as he must finish his task or abandon it.
 
At last the bubbles began to move back. It was difficult to follow them because the swell was streaked³⁶ with foam³⁷, but although they were occasionally lost for a few moments, they reappeared. Then the top of the ladder swung against the rail and soon the copper helmet rose out of the sea. Bethune flung an arm on deck and grasped a cleat, but he seemed to have some difficulty in getting any farther, and they dragged him on board. His face was livid when they released him, and he lay back on the skylight without speaking for some moments. Then he gasped³⁸ painfully:
 
“The case is slung³⁹; I had to move it clear of her. Heave up!”
 
They sprang to the line he had brought and hauled it in; Jimmy trying to control his fierce impatience⁴⁰. Care was needed lest the sling get loose in dragging along the sand. At last the line ran perpendicularly⁴¹ down, and they were encouraged by the weight they had to lift. Even Moran showed excitement as a corner of the box broke the surface. Throwing himself down, he swung it on board with a powerful heave. Then he and Jimmy dropped down limply on the deck and gazed at their treasure. The box was thick and bound with heavy iron, the wood waterlogged; but, making allowances for that, it obviously contained a large quantity of gold. Jimmy felt exultant⁴², but after a time Bethune disturbed his pleasant reflections.
 
“Look at the ice!” he exclaimed.
 
The floe⁴³ was bearing down on them, and in the distance, half hidden by the fog, a taller mass seemed to have stranded⁴⁴ on the reef, for the spray was leaping about it and there was a great splash as a heavy block fell off. Moran glanced at the floe and ran forward. Jimmy joined him and they hurriedly got the chain cable in; then, with Bethune’s help, they reefed the mainsail and stowed the folding ladder and pumps below, but they had a struggle to lift the kedge anchor. It seemed to have fouled⁴⁵ some waterlogged timber below; but they would not sacrifice it by slipping the warp⁴⁶, because they knew it might be a long time before they could come back. When they finally broke it out Bethune had already hoisted⁴⁷ the mainsail. There was no time to lose, for the fog was getting thicker in spite of the rising wind, and a glimmering⁴⁸ mass of ice had crept up threateningly close. Moreover, the light was going and the sea getting up. Hurriedly setting a small jib, they stood out for open sea.
 
“Make the best offing you can,” directed Jimmy, leaving Moran at the helm. “I’ll get the stove lighted, and after supper we’ll open the case.”
 
It was nearly twenty-four hours since he had eaten anything and he was beginning to feel faint from want of food. Indeed, he had some difficulty in getting the fire to burn and was conscious of an annoying, slack clumsiness. When the meal was ready he called Bethune down and handed out Moran’s share.
 
“I’ve been extravagant⁴⁹, but we have ............