nd one of the
sailors remained similarly affected, but their state did not appear now
to be so alarming after the past experience, and Drew contented himself
with satisfying himself from time to time that they were breathing
comfortably, while he waited and thought sadly about their young
companion.

"If I could only feel satisfied that we had done everything possible to
save him," he said to himself, for his conscience reproached him for
idling there when he might have perhaps schemed some way of dragging him
out from the mist.

Just about the time when his spirits were at the lowest ebb he became
conscious of the fact that the two sailors, Smith and Wriggs, were
engaged in an argument with one of the rescue party, and he listened to
what was said.

"Look-ye here," growled Smith, "what's the good o' you talking that way?
You see how it was; yer couldn't hardly breathe, and what yer could
breathe warn't fresh hair, but a rum sort o' stuff as comes out o' the
earth and knocks yer over 'fore you knows where you are. I never felt
nowt like it, did you, Billy?"

"No; and never wants to smell it again. Yer didn't feel it, yer smelt
it, lads, and then you was nowheres. Say, Tommy."

"What is it?"

"Wonder what it's like down below, inside like. You hauled me out 'fore
I'd half a chance to find out."

"Why didn't yer say yer wanted to see? Then I'd ha' let yer go."

"Nay, you wouldn't, Tommy," said Wriggs, with a chuckle. "Be too warm,
wouldn't it?"

"But what I was saying, mates, was as I don't think we tried hard enough
to find Mr Lane. We ought to have done something."

"Ay; but how are you going to do it?" said Wriggs, shortly, just as the
man's words had gone like a pang through Drew's breast, making him feel
that even the men were judging him adversely. "That's the worst o' you
clever ones: you says, says you, `We ought to do some'at,' but you don't
say what."

"That's a true word, Billy Wriggs," cried Smith, clapping his messmate
on the shoulder, "they don't say what. Why, 'fore you chaps come, Mr
Panton and Mr Drew--"

"And Tommy Smith," growled Wriggs.

"Well, I did try a bit, mate, and so did you, till we couldn't do no
more. I don't believe a hangel could ha' done more than Billy did."

"Oh, I say, mate," grumbled Wriggs, modestly.

"I says it again, `could ha' done more than Billy did.' But it's like
this here, mates, the onpossible's just a bit too hard for a man to do,
and whether