he abyss. The stones were raining about him.
Duke was still following him. The poor beast seemed already dizzy at
the sight beneath him. Hatteras was whirling about his head the flag,
which was lighted with the brilliant reflection, and the red bunting
could be seen above the crater. With one hand Hatteras was holding it;
with the other he was pointing to the zenith, the celestial pole.
Still he seemed to hesitate. He was seeking the mathematical point
where all the meridians meet, and on which in his sublime obstinacy he
wanted to set his foot.

Suddenly the rock gave way beneath him. He disappeared. A terrible cry
from his companions rose even to the summit of the mountain. A
second--a century--passed! Clawbonny considered his friend lost and
buried forever in the depths of the volcano. But Altamont was there,
and Duke too. The man and the dog had seized him just when he was
disappearing in the abyss. Hatteras was saved, saved in spite of
himself, and half an hour later the captain of the _Forward_ lay
unconscious in the arms of his despairing friends.

When he came to himself, the doctor gave him a questioning glance in
mute agony. But his vague look, like that of a blind man, made no
reply.

"Heavens!" said Johnson, "he is blind!"

"No," answered Clawbonny,--"no! My poor friends, we have saved
Hatteras's body! His mind is at the top of the volcano! He has lost
his reason!"

"Mad?" cried Johnson and Altamont in deep distress.

"Mad!" answered the doctor.

And he wept bitterly.

CHAPTER XXVI.
RETURN TO THE SOUTH.

Three hours after this sad conclusion to the adventures of Captain
Hatteras, Clawbonny, Altamont, and the two sailors were assembled in
the cavern at the foot of the volcano. Then Clawbonny was asked to
give his opinion on what was to be done.

"My friends," he said, "we cannot prolong our stay at Queen's Island;
the sea is open before us; our provisions are sufficient; we must set
out and reach Fort Providence as soon as possible, and we can go into
winter-quarters till next summer."

"That is my opinion," said Altamont; "the wind is fair, and to-morrow
we shall set sail."

The day passed in great gloom. The captain's madness was a sad
foreboding, and when Johnson, Bell, and Altamont thought of their
return, they were afraid of their loneliness and remoteness. They felt
the need of Hatteras's bold soul. Still, like energetic men they made
ready for a new struggle with the elements,