at his composure.

"While there's life there's hope, you know Mr. Kazallon; out of a
hundred chances, ninety-nine may be against us, but perhaps the odd one
may be in our favour. Besides, I believe that our case is not without
precedent. In the year 1795 a three-master, the 'Juno,' was precisely
in the same half-sunk, water-logged condition as ourselves; and yet with
her passengers and crew clinging to her top-masts she drifted for twenty
days, until she came in sight of land, when those who had survived the
deprivation and fatigue were saved. So let us not despair; let us hold
on to the hope that the survivors of the 'Chancellor' may be equally
fortunate."

I was only too conscious that there was not much to be said in support
of Curtis's sanguine view of things, and that the force of reason
pointed all the other way; but I said nothing, deriving what comfort I
could from the fact that the captain did not yet despond of an ultimate
rescue.

As it was necessary to be prepared to abandon the ship almost at a
moment's notice, Dowlas was making every exertion to hurry on the
construction of the raft. A little before midnight he was on the point
of conveying some planks for this purpose, when, to his astonishment and
horror, he found that the framework had totally disappeared. The ropes
that had attached it to the vessel had snapped as she became vertically
displaced, and probably it had been adrift for more than an hour.

The crew were frantic at this new misfortune, and shouting "Overboard
with the masts!" they began to cut down the rigging preparatory to
taking possession of the masts for a new raft.

But here Curtis interposed:--

"Back to your places, my men; back to your places. The ship will not
sink yet, so don't touch a rope until I give you leave."

The firmness of the captain's voice brought the men to their senses, and
although some of them could ill disguise their reluctance, all returned
to their posts.

When daylight had sufficiently advanced Curtis mounted the mast, and
looked around for the missing raft; but it was nowhere to be seen. The
sea was far too rough for the men to venture to take out the whaleboat
in search of it, and there was no choice but to set to work and to
construct a new raft immediately.

Since the sea has become so much rougher, Mrs. Kear has been induced to
leave the poop, and has managed to join M. Letourneur and his son on
the main-top, where she lies in a state of comple