high cliffs which
bounded it on each side. In three directions this slope was very steep,
but in one it slanted up quite gradually, and the constant thawing had
grooved the surface with a thousand irregularities by which an active
man could ascend. With one impulse they began all three to clamber up
until a minute later they were standing not far from the edge of the
summit, seventy feet above the sea, with a view which took in a good
fifty miles of water. In all that fifty miles there was no sign of
life, nothing but the endless glint of the sun upon the waves.

Captain Ephraim whistled. "We are out of luck," said he.

Amos Green looked about him with startled eyes. "I cannot understand
it," said he. "I could have sworn--By the eternal, listen to that!" The
clear call of a military bugle rang out in the morning air. With a cry
of amazement they all three craned forward and peered over the edge.

A large ship was lying under the very shadow of the iceberg. They
looked straight down upon her snow-white decks, fringed with shining
brass cannon, and dotted with seamen. A little clump of soldiers stood
upon the poop going through the manual exercise, and it was from them
that the call had come which had sounded so unexpectedly in the ears of
the castaways. Standing back from the edge, they had not only looked
over the top-masts of this welcome neighbour, but they had themselves
been invisible from her decks. Now the discovery was mutual, as was
shown by a chorus of shouts and cries from beneath them.

But the three did not wait an instant. Sliding and scrambling down the
wet, slippery incline, they rushed shouting through the crack and into
the cave where their comrades had just been startled by the bugle-call
while in the middle of their cheerless breakfast. A few hurried words
and the leaky long-boat had been launched, their possessions had been
bundled in, and they were afloat once more. Pulling round a promontory
of the berg, they found themselves under the stern of a fine corvette,
the sides of which were lined with friendly faces, while from the peak
there drooped a huge white banner mottled over with the golden lilies of
France. In a very few minutes their boat had been hauled up and they
found themselves on board the _St. Christophe_ man-of-war, conveying
Marquis de Denonville, the new Governor-General of Canada, to take over
his duties.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

IN THE POOL OF QUEBEC.

A singu