dint of cutting and tearing I soon got the rushes out of the way, and
then the wood was revealed to my touch; and by this delicate sense I
perceived that, like the others, it was a case of common deal.

I only rested a moment before beginning my attack upon it. As it lay
twelve inches from the timbers of the ship, one of its angles was quite
within my reach; and on running my hand along it, I could feel the heads
of the nails, that did not appear to be either numerous or very firmly
driven. This gave me satisfaction, and still more was I rejoiced to
find that there was no hooping upon it. I should, perhaps, be enabled
to prise off one of the boards, and this would save me the long,
wearisome task of cutting it crossways.

At the moment this appeared a fortunate circumstance, and I
congratulated myself upon it. Alas! it proved the cause of a sad
misfortune, that in five minutes had plunged me once more into the
deepest misery.

Half-a-dozen words will explain.

I had inserted the blade of my knife under the board, and was trying if
it felt loose. Not that I believed I could prize it off with this; but
rather to ascertain what resistance there was, in order to look out for
some more proper lever.

To my sorrow, I leant too heavily upon the piece of steel; for a short,
sharp crack, startling me worse than a shot would have done, announced
that _the blade was broken_!

CHAPTER FIFTY NINE.

THE BROKEN BLADE.

Yes, the blade was broken quite through, and remained sticking between
the pieces of wood. The haft came away in my hand; and as I passed my
thumb over the end of it, I could perceive that the blade had snapped
off close to the end of the back-spring, so that not even the tenth of
an inch of it was left in the handle.

I cannot describe the chagrin which this incident caused me. I at once
recognised it as a misfortune of the very gravest kind, for without the
knife what could I do?

Without it I was, as might be said, _unarmed and helpless_. I could
make no further progress with my tunnel; I should have to abandon the
enterprise so lately conceived, and upon which I had built such hopes of
success; in other words, I might now renounce my design of proceeding
farther, and resign myself to the miserable fate that once more stared
me in the face.

There was something awful in this reaction of my spirits. It was
painful in the extreme. The very suddenness of the change rendered the
shock more a