days.
The wind was violent, and the cold insupportable. They could not
go out, except at the risk of being frozen. The most courageous
were fain to limit themselves to walking on deck, sheltered by
the tent. Jean Cornbutte, Gervique, and Gradlin did not leave
their beds. The two Norwegians, Aupic, and Andre Vasling, whose
health was good, cast ferocious looks at their companions, whom
they saw wasting away.

Louis Cornbutte led Penellan on deck, and asked him how much
firing was left.

"The coal was exhausted long ago," replied Penellan, "and we are
about to burn our last pieces of wood."

"If we are not able to keep off this cold, we are lost," said
Louis.

"There still remains a way--" said Penellan, "to burn what we can
of the brig, from the barricading to the water-line; and we can
even, if need be, demolish her entirely, and rebuild a smaller
craft."

"That is an extreme means," replied Louis, "which it will be full
time to employ when our men are well. For," he added in a low
voice, "our force is diminishing, and that of our enemies seems
to be increasing. That is extraordinary."

"It is true," said Penellan; "and unless we took the precaution
to watch night and day, I know not what would happen to us."

"Let us take our hatchets," returned Louis, "and make our harvest
of wood."

Despite the cold, they mounted on the forward barricading, and
cut off all the wood which was not indispensably necessary to the
ship; then they returned with this new provision. The fire was
started afresh, and a man remained on guard to prevent it from
going out.

Meanwhile Louis Cornbutte and his friends were soon tired out.
They could not confide any detail of the life in common to their
enemies. Charged with all the domestic cares, their powers were
soon exhausted. The scurvy betrayed itself in Jean Cornbutte, who
suffered intolerable pain. Gervique and Gradlin showed symptoms
of the same disease. Had it not been for the lemon-juice with
which they were abundantly furnished, they would have speedily
succumbed to their sufferings. This remedy was not spared in
relieving them.

But one day, the 15th of January, when Louis Cornbutte was going
down into the steward's room to get some lemons, he was stupefied
to find that the barrels in which they were kept had disappeared.
He hurried up and told Penellan of this misfortune. A theft had
been committed, and it was easy to recognize its authors. Louis
Cornbutte then under