rstood his meaning at once.

"Yes," I said, "some of it--a good deal of it, I think."

"That's good," said he. "Let's put the poor fellow under ground."

"It would be hard to do that," I said; "we'll have to bury him in the
snow."

At this Agnew went off for a little distance and clambered over the
rocks. He was not gone long. When he returned he said, "I've found
some crumbled pumice-stone; we can scoop a grave for him there."

We then raised the body and carried it to the place which Agnew had
found. So emaciated was the poor dead sailor that his remains were no
heavier than a small boy. On reaching the spot, we found the crumbled
pumice-stone. We placed the body in a crevice among the lava rocks,
and then I said what I could remember of the burial-service. After
this we carried in our hands the crumbled pumice-stone until we had
covered the body, and thus gave the poor fellow a Christian burial.

We then returned to the shore.

"More, old fellow," said Agnew, "I feel the better for this; the
service has done me good."

"And me too," said I. "It has reminded me of what I had forgotten.
This world is only a part of life. We may lose it and yet live on.
There is another world; and if we can only keep that in our minds we
sha'n't be so ready to sink into despair--that is, I sha'n't. Despair
is my weakness; you are more hopeful."

"Yes," said Agnew, solemnly; "but my hope thus far has referred only
to the safety of my skin. After this I shall try to think of my soul,
and cultivate, not the hope of escape, but the hope full of
immortality. Yes, More, after all we shall live, if not in England,
then, let us hope, in heaven."

There was a long silence after this--that kind of silence which one
may preserve who is at the point of death.

"I wonder how he got here?" said Agnew, at last. "The letter mentions
a whaler. No doubt the ship has been driven too far south; it has
foundered; he has escaped in a boat, either alone or with others; he
has been carried along this channel, and has landed here, afraid to go
any farther."

"But his boat, what has become of that?"

"His boat! That must have gone long ago. The letter was written in
1820. At any rate, let's look around."

We did so. After some search we found fragments of a rotted rope
attached to a piece of rock.

"That," said Agnew, "must have been fastened to the boat; and as for
the boat herself, she has long ago been swept away from this."

"What shall