speed, leaving him standing on the snow, totally overwhelmed by
astonishment and rage.

Marcy was near enough to view this catastrophe, and he stopped his
sledge and burst out laughing. Now that the fellow was secure, Marcy
would wait for his companions. When the others had reached him, the
three proceeded towards Rovinski, who was standing facing them and
waiting. As soon as they came within speaking distance he shouted:

"Stop where you are! I have a pistol, and I will shoot you in turn
if you come any nearer. I am a free man! I have a right to go where I
please. I have lost my sledge, but I can walk. Go back and tell your
masters I have left their service."

Mr. Marcy reflected a moment. He was armed, but it was with a very
peculiar weapon, intended for use on shipboard in case of mutinous
disturbances. It was a pistol with a short range, carrying an ammonia
shell. If he could get near enough to Rovinski, he could settle his
business very quickly; but he believed that the pistol carried by the
Pole was of the ordinary kind, and dangerous.

Something must be done immediately. It was very cold; they must soon
return to the vessel. Suddenly, without a word, Mr. Marcy started his
sledge forward at its utmost speed. The Pole gave a loud cry and raised
his right hand, in which he held a heavy pistol. For some minutes he had
been standing, his glove off, and this pistol clasped in his hand. He
was so excited that he had entirely forgotten the intense coldness
of the air. He attempted to aim the pistol and to curl his forefinger
around the trigger, but his hand and wrist were stiff, his fingers were
stiff. His pistol-barrel pointed at an angle downward; he had no power
to straighten it or to pull the trigger. Standing thus, his face white
with the rage of impotence and his raised hand shaking as if it had
been palsied, he was struck full in the face with the shell from
Marcy's wide-mouthed pistol. The brittle capsule burst, and in a second,
insensible from the fumes of the powerful ammonia it contained, Rovinski
fell flat upon the snow.

When the Pole had been taken back to the vessel, and had been confined
below, Mr. Gibbs, utterly unable to comprehend the motives of the man in
thus rushing off to die alone amid the rigors of the polar regions, went
down to talk to him. At first Rovinski refused to make any answers
to the questions put to him, but at last, apparently enraged by the
imputation that he must be a weak-mi