The appearance of this bold personage was appreciated in different ways by the crew; part of them completely rallied round him, either from love of money or daring; others submitted because they could not help themselves, reserving their right to protest later on; besides, resistance to such a man seemed, for the present, difficult. Each man went back to his post. The 20th of May fell on a Sunday, and was consequently a day of rest for the crew. A council was held by the captain, composed of the officers, Shandon, Wall, Johnson, and the doctor.

“Gentlemen,” said the captain in that voice at the same time soft and imperious which characterised him, “you are aware that I intend to go as far as the Pole. I wish to know your opinion about this enterprise. Shandon, what do you think about it?”

“It is not for me to think, captain,” coldly replied Shandon; “I have only to obey.”

Hatteras was not surprised at the answer.

“Richard Shandon,” continued he, not less coldly, “I beg you will say what you think about our chance of success.”

“Very well, captain,” answered Shandon, “facts are there, and answer for me; attempts of the same kind up till now have always failed; I hope we shall be more fortunate.”

“We shall be. What do you think, gentlemen?”

“As far as I am concerned,” replied the doctor, “I consider your plan practicable, as it is certain that some day navigators will attain the boreal Pole. I don’t see why the honour should not fall to our lot.”

“There are many things in our favour,” answered Hatteras; “our measures are taken in consequence, and we shall profit by the experience of those who have gone before us. And thereupon, Shandon, accept my thanks for the care you have taken in fitting out this ship; there are a few evil-disposed fellows amongst the crew that I shall have to bring to reason, but on the whole I have only praises to give you.”

Shandon bowed coldly. His position on the Forward, which he thought to command, was a false one. Hatteras understood this, and did not insist further.

“As to you, gentlemen,” he continued, turning to Wall and Johnson, “I could not have secured officers more distinguished for courage and experience.”

“Well, captain, I’m your man,” answered Johnson, “and although your enterprise seems to me rather daring, you may rely upon me till the end.”

“And on me too,” said James Wall.

“As to you, doctor, I know what you are worth.”

“You know more than I do, then,” quickly replied the doctor.

“Now, gentlemen,” continued Hatteras, “it is well you should learn upon what undeniable facts my pretension to arrive at the Pole is founded. In 1817 the Neptune got up to the north of Spitzbergen, as far as the eighty-second degree. In 1826 the celebrated Parry, after his third voyage to the Polar Seas, started also from Spitzbergen Point, and by the aid of sledge-boats went a hundred and fifty miles northward. In 1852 Captain Inglefield penetrated into Smith’s Inlet as far as seventy-eight degrees thirty-five minutes latitude. All these vessels were English, and Englishmen, our countrymen, commanded them.” Here Hatteras paused. “I ought to add,” he continued, with a constrained look, and as though the words were unable to leave his lips —“I must add that, in 1854, Kane, the American, commanding the brig Advance, went still higher, and that his lieutenant, Morton, going across the ice-fields, hoisted the United States standard on the other side of the eighty-second degree. This said, I shall not return to the subject. Now what remains to be known is this, that the captains of the Neptune, the Enterprise, the Isabel, and the Advance ascertained that proceeding from the highest latitudes there existed a Polar basin entirely free from ice.”

“Free from ice!” exclaimed Shandon, interrupting the captain, “that is impossible!”

“You will notice, Shandon,” quietly replied Hatteras, whose eye shone for an instant, “that I quote names and facts as a proof. I may even add that during Captain Parry’s station on the border of Wellington Channel, in 1851, his lieutenant, Stewart, also found himself in the presence of open sea, and this peculiarity was confirmed during Sir Edward Beecher’s wintering in 1853, in Northumberland Bay, in 76 degrees 52 minutes N. latitude, and 99 degrees 20 minutes longitude. The reports are incontestable, and it would be most unjust not to admit them.”

“However, captain,” continued Shandon, “those reports are so contradictory.”

“You are mistaken, Shandon,” cried Dr. Clawbonny. “These reports do not contradict any scientific assertion, the captain will allow me to tell you.”

“Go on, doctor,” answered Hatteras.

“Well, listen, Shandon; it evidently follows from geographical facts, and from the study of isotherm lines, that the coldest point of the globe is not at the Pole itself; like the magnetic point, it deviates several degrees from the Pole. The calculations of Brewster, Bergham, and several other natural philosophers show us that in our hemisphere there are two cold Poles; one is situated in Asia at 79 degrees 30 minutes N. latitude, and by 120 degrees E. longitude, and the other in America at 78 degrees N. latitude, and 97 degrees W. longitude. It is with the latter that we have to do, and you see, Shandon, we have met with it at more than twelve degrees below the Pole. Well, why should not the Polar Sea be as equally disengaged from ice as the sixty-sixth parallel is in summer — that is to say, the south of Baffin’s Bay?”

“That’s what I call well pleaded,” replied Johnson. “Mr. Clawbonny speaks upon these matters like a professional man.”

“It appears very probable,” chimed in James Wall.

“All guess-work,” answered Shandon obstinately.

“Well, Shandon,” said Hatteras, “let us take into consideration either case; either the sea is free from ice or it is not so, and neither of these suppositions can hinder us from attaining the Pole. If the sea is free the Forward will take us there without trouble; if it is frozen we will attempt the adventure upon our sledges. This, you will allow, is not impracticable. When once our brig has attained the eighty-third degree we shall only have six hundred miles to traverse before reaching the Pole.”

“And what are six hundred miles?” quickly answered the doctor, “when it is known that a Cossack, Alexis Markoff, went over the ice ............