by all the rest.

The destruction of the vessel seeming thus inevitable, Lieutenant
Procope took the best measures he could to insure a few days' supply
of food for any who might escape ashore. He ordered several cases of
provisions and kegs of water to be brought on deck, and saw that they
were securely lashed to some empty barrels, to make them float after the
ship had gone down.

Less and less grew the distance from the shore, but no creek, no inlet,
could be discerned in the towering wall of cliff, which seemed about to
topple over and involve them in annihilation. Except a change of wind
or, as Procope observed, a supernatural rifting of the rock, nothing
could bring deliverance now. But the wind did not veer, and in a few
minutes more the schooner was hardly three cables' distance from the
fatal land. All were aware that their last moment had arrived. Servadac
and the count grasped each other's hands for a long farewell; and,
tossed by the tremendous waves, the schooner was on the very point of
being hurled upon the cliff, when a ringing shout was heard. "Quick,
boys, quick! Hoist the jib, and right the tiller!"

Sudden and startling as the unexpected orders were, they were executed
as if by magic.

The lieutenant, who had shouted from the bow, rushed astern and took
the helm, and before anyone had time to speculate upon the object of his
maneuvers, he shouted again, "Look out! sharp! watch the sheets!"

An involuntary cry broke forth from all on board. But it was no cry
of terror. Right ahead was a narrow opening in the solid rock; it was
hardly forty feet wide. Whether it was a passage or no, it mattered
little; it was at least a refuge; and, driven by wind and wave, the
_Dobryna_, under the dexterous guidance of the lieutenant, dashed in
between its perpendicular walls.

Had she not immured herself in a perpetual prison?

CHAPTER XIII. A ROYAL SALUTE

"Then I take your bishop, major," said Colonel Murphy, as he made a move
that he had taken since the previous evening to consider.

"I was afraid you would," replied Major Oliphant, looking intently at
the chess-board.

Such was the way in which a long silence was broken on the morning of
the 17th of February by the old calendar.

Another day elapsed before another move was made. It was a protracted
game; it had, in fact, already lasted some months--the players being
so deliberate, and so fearful of taking a step without the most mature
consid