own right before the wind."

"It's the only way she could come, mate," said Andrew, not in the least
way excited by the announcement. "But are you sure you see a sail?
Don't you think it may be the wing of a seafowl?"

"'Tis too steady for that," answered Terence. "If we get to the top of
the flagstaff hummock, in another minute or so we shall know to a
certainty." In spite of the cutting cold wind to which we were exposed,
we stood for several minutes eagerly watching the white spot which
Terence asserted was a sail.

I asked if it might not be an iceberg; but Andrew said an iceberg never
travelled fast before the wind, because, although a great deal of it was
exposed above the water, there was a much larger proportion below, on
which, of course, the wind had no influence; and he wound up his
observation by pronouncing the spot to be the topsail of a ship.

"Huzza, then, mates, we shall get off this time," shouted Terence, who
had no wish to winter in the arctic regions.

"We must not be too sure of that," answered Andrew. "Let me ask you,
even if we are sure, how are we to get off with the sea there breaking
on this sheet of ice? We must not let our hopes blind us to the truth."

"You are always croaking, Andrew," said Terence in a vexed tone. He
was, like many another man, without much hope, and who, the smaller it
grows, is the more inclined to be angry with the person whose
plain-speaking tends still further to decrease it.

On came the ship, scudding at a great rate before the gale, right down
along the edge of the floe. She seemed, as well as we could then judge,
to be about three miles off. We were obliged to descend, and to run
about to keep ourselves warm; but every instant one of us was climbing
to the top of the hummock to watch the progress of the stranger. She
was drawing near when some of our companions discovered her; and we now
saw them come hurrying along over the ice towards us, forgetting
everything in the expectation of being able to escape from our perilous
situation.

By the time they reached us she was just abreast of us, running under
her fore-topsail at headlong speed before the wind. How anxiously we
watched her, expecting her every instant to heave to; but she glided
onward, unconscious of the agony and despair she was creating in our
hearts. We waved our hats; we pointed to our signal staff; we leaped up
on the hummock; we even, in the extravagance of our eagerness, shoute