The crew seemed to have returned to its habits of discipline and obedience. There was little fatiguing work to do, and they had a good deal of leisure. The temperature kept above freezing point, and it seemed as if the thaw had removed the great obstacles to navigation.

Dick, now sociable and familiar, had made great friends with Dr. Clawbonny. But as in most friendships one friend has to give way to the other, it must be acknowledged it was not the dog. Dick did what he liked with the doctor, who obeyed him as if he were the dog. He was amiable with most of the sailors and officers on board, only by instinct, doubtless, he shunned Shandon’s society; he also kept up a grudge against Pen and Foker; he vented his hatred of them by growling at their approach. But they dare not now attack the captain’s dog — his “familiar,” as Clifton called him. On the whole the crew had plucked up courage again and worked well.

“It seems to me,” said James Wall one day to Richard Shandon, “that our men took the captain’s speech seriously; they no longer seem to be doubtful of success.”

“The more fools they!” answered Shandon. “If they reflected, if they examined the situation, they would see that we are going out of one imprudence into another.”

“But,” continued Wall, “the sea is open now, and we are getting back into well-known tracks; aren’t you exaggerating a bit, Shandon?”

“No, I am not exaggerating; the dislike I feel to Hatteras is not blinding me. Have you seen the coal-holes lately?”

“No,” answered Wall.

“Well, then, go and examine them: you will see how much there’s left. He ought to have navigated under sail, and have kept the engine for currents and contrary winds; he ought only to have used his coal where he was obliged; who can tell where we shall be kept, and for how many years? But Hatteras only thinks about getting north. Whether the wind is contrary or not, he goes along at full steam, and if things go on as they are doing now, we shall soon be in a pretty pickle.”

“If what you say is true, it is very serious.”

“Yes, it is, because of the wintering. What shall we do without coal in a country where even the thermometer freezes?”

“But, if I am not mistaken, the captain counts upon renewing his stock of coal at Beechey Island. It appears there is a large provision there.”

“And suppose we can’t reach Beechey Island, what will become of us then?”

“You are right, Shandon; Hatteras seems to me very imprudent; but why don’t you expostulate with him on the subject?”

“No,” said Shandon, with ill-concealed bitterness, “I won’t say a word. It is nothing to do with me now. I shall wait to see what turns up; I shall obey orders, and not give my opinion where it isn’t wanted.”

“Allow me to tell you that you are in the wrong, Shandon; you have as much interest in setting yourself against the captain’s imprudence as we have.”

“He wouldn’t listen to me if I were to speak; do you think he would?”

Wall dared not answer in the affirmative, and he added —

“But perhaps he would listen to the crew.”

“The crew!” answered Shandon, shrugging his shoulders; “you don’t know the crew. The men know they are nearing the 72nd parallel, and that they will earn a thousand pounds for every degree above that.”

“The captain knew what he was doing when he offered them that.”

“Of course he did, and for the present he can do what he likes with them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that while they have nothing to do, and there is an open sea, they will go on right enough; but wait till difficulty and danger come, and you will see how much they’ll th............