proceeded rapidly on her course. Pencroft had hoisted the foresail,
and steering by the compass followed a rectilinear direction. From
time to time Herbert relieved him at the helm, and the lad's hand was
so firm that the sailor had not a point to find fault with.

Gideon Spilett chatted sometimes with one, sometimes with the other,
if wanted he lent a hand with the ropes, and Captain Pencroft was
perfectly satisfied with his crew.

[Illustration: THE DEPARTURE]

In the evening the crescent moon, which would not be in its first
quarter until the 16th, appeared in the twilight and soon set again.
The night was dark but starry, and the next day again promised to be
fine.

Pencroft prudently lowered the foresail, not wishing to be caught by a
sudden gust while carrying too much canvas; it was perhaps an
unnecessary precaution on such a calm night, but Pencroft was a
prudent sailor and cannot be blamed for it.

The reporter slept part of the night. Pencroft and Herbert took turns
for a spell of two hours each at the helm. The sailor trusted Herbert
as he would himself, and his confidence was justified by the coolness
and judgment of the lad. Pencroft gave him his directions as a
commander to his steersman, and Herbert never allowed the
_Bonadventure_ to swerve even a point. The night passed quietly, as
did the day of the 12th of October. A south-easterly direction was
strictly maintained, unless the _Bonadventure_ fell in with some
unknown current she would come exactly within sight of Tabor Island.

As to the sea over which the vessel was then sailing, it was
absolutely deserted. Now and then a great albatross or frigate bird
passed within gun-shot, and Gideon Spilett wondered if it was to one
of them that he had confided his last letter addressed to the _New
York Herald_. These birds were the only beings that appeared to
frequent this part of the ocean between Tabor and Lincoln Island.

"And yet," observed Herbert, "this is the time that whalers usually
proceed towards the southern part of the Pacific. Indeed I do not
think there could be a more deserted sea than this."

"It is not quite so deserted as all that," replied Pencroft.

"What do you mean," asked the reporter.

"We are on it. Do you take our vessel for a wreck and us for
porpoises?"

And Pencroft laughed at his joke.

By the evening, according to calculation, it was thought that the
_Bonadventure_ had accomplished a distance of a hundred and twe