t have found it in the
open sea, and--"

"If that were so--" cried the captain.

The same thought had occurred to both of us. What was our surprise,
indeed our amazement, our unspeakable emotion, when Hunt showed us
eight letters cut in the plank, not painted, but hollow and
distinctly traceable with the finger.

It was only too easy to recognize the letters of two names, arranged
in two lines, thus:

AN
LI.E.PO.L.

The _Jane of Liverpool_! The schooner commanded by Captain William
Guy! What did it matter that time had blurred the other letters?
Did not those suffice to tell the name of the ship and the port she
belonged to? The _Jane_ of Liverpool!

Captain Len Guy had taken the plank in his hands, and now he pressed
his lips to it, while tears fell from his eyes.

It was a fragment of the _Jane_! I did not utter a word until the
captain's emotion had subsided. As for Hunt, I had never seen such
a lightning glance from his brilliant hawk-like eyes as he now cast
towards the southern horizon.

Captain Len Guy rose.

Hunt, without a word, placed the plank upon his shoulder, and we
continued our route.

When we had made the tour of the island, we halted at the place
where the boat had been left under the charge of two sailors, and
about half-past two in the afternoon we were again on board.

Early on the morning of the 23rd of December the _Halbrane_ put off
from Bennet Islet, and we carried away with us new and convincing
testimony to the catastrophe which Tsalal Island had witnessed.

During that day, I observed the sea water very attentively, and it
seemed to me less deeply blue than Arthur Pym describes it. Nor had
we met a single specimen of his monster of the austral fauna, an
animal three feet long, six inches high, with fourshort legs, long
coral claws, a silky body, a rat's tail, a cat's head, the
hanging ears, blood-red lips and white teeth of a dog. The truth is
that I regarded several of these details as "suspect," and
entirely due toan over-imaginative temperament.

Seated far aft in the ship, I read Edgar Poe's book with sedulous
attention, but I was not unaware of the fact that Hunt, whenever his
duties furnished him with an opportunity, observed me
pertinaciously, and with looks of singular meaning.

And, in fact, I was re-perusing the end of Chapter XVII., in which
Arthur Pym acknowledged his responsibility for the sad and tragic
events which were the results of his advice. It was