a ship.

"And though they're all splendid fellows," he said, "there's one I can
specially mention without doing any wrong to the rest, and that's the
young doctor of our expedition--Martin Conrad. Martin has a scheme of
his own for going down to the Antarctic again to make a great experiment
in the interests of humanity, and if and when he goes I say, 'Good luck
to him and God bless him!'"

At these generous words there was much applause, during which Martin sat
blushing like a big boy when he is introduced to the girl friends of his
sister.

As for me I did not think any speech could have been so beautiful, and I
felt as if I could have cried for joy.

When I got back to the hotel I _did_ cry, but it was for another reason.
I was thinking of my father and wondering why he did not wait.

"Why, why, why?" I asked myself.

FIFTY-THIRD CHAPTER

Next day, Martin came rushing down to my sitting-room with a sheaf of
letters in his hand, saying:

"That was jolly good of the boss, but look what he has let me in for?"

They were requests from various newspapers for portraits and interviews,
and particularly from one great London journal for a special article to
contain an account of the nature and object of the proposed experiment.

"What am I to do?" he said. "I'm all right for stringing gabble, but I
couldn't _write_ anything to save my soul. Now, you could. I'm sure you
could. You could write like Robinson Crusoe. Why shouldn't you write the
article and I'll tell you what to put into it?"

There was no resisting that. And down at the bottom of my secret heart I
was glad of the excuse to my conscience that I could not any longer run
away from Martin because I was necessary to help him.

So we sat together all day long, and though it was like shooting the
rapids to follow Martin's impetuous and imaginative speech, I did my
best to translate his disconnected outbursts into more connected words,
and when the article was written and read aloud to him he was delighted.

"Stunning! Didn't I say you could write like Robinson Crusoe?"

In due course it was published and made a deep impression, for wherever
I went people were talking of it, and though some said "Fudge!" and
others, like my husband, said "Dreams!" the practical result was that
the great newspaper started a public subscription with the object of
providing funds for the realisation of Martin's scheme.

This brought him an immense correspondence, s