he breath.

"Get a sniff of it, sir?" said Smith, who was now close by.

"I breathed it, too," said Drew, "but the gas does not seem to be so
powerful here above the water."

"No," said Panton. "I could just make out a crack or two through the
coral. We're clear now."

"Yes," said the mate, looking back at the effervescing water, "and the
bottom is alive again."

He was right, for the peculiar display of animal and vegetable growth
was plain to see once more. Great sea slugs crawled about on the bottom
with gigantic starfish, and actiniae of vivid colours spread their
tentacled blossoms.

"Best way this of getting through the mist, eh, Lane?" cried Panton.

"But there is no mist over the sea," said Lane.

"No, I suppose the passage through water makes the gas invisible," said
Panton. "Isn't this somewhere near where we started, Mr Rimmer?"

"No, sir, 'bout a mile farther on. Keep a look-out and you'll see the
opening in the cocoa-nut grove, and the marks of the boat's keel upon
the sand."

They were not long in reaching the spot, and there the boat was run
right up over the soft beach in among the tall stems of the nearest
cocoanuts, and carefully made fast.

"But suppose savages come and find it?" suggested Oliver.

"Strikes me, Mr Lane," said the mate, "that we're the only savages
here. Now, gentlemen, who says a drink of cocoa-nut milk, and then
we'll make haste back to the brig."

There was ample store swinging overhead, and after a couple of tries, a
man succeeded in climbing one of the tall, spar-like trees, and shaking
down ample for their light lunch. A couple of hours later they had
traversed the wave-swept plain, and reached the brig, where they were
heartily welcomed by the portion of the crew left in charge.

"But what's the matter?" cried the mate. "You all look white about the
gills."

"Had a bit of a scare, sir," said one of the men. "All at wonst, it was
just as if the brig was an old cow a trying to get on her legs. For she
was heaved up, shook herself a bit, and then settled down again, just as
she was before."

"Not quite, my lad," said Wriggs. "Speak the truth whatever yer does.
She's got a cant to port since we went away."

He was quite right, the _Planet's_ deck was no longer level, but had a
slope, and the masts, instead of being perpendicular, slanted slightly
towards the horizon.

"Yes, Tommy Smith. Wet as you are," whispered Wriggs, solemnly, "I must
tell yer