Erik gave a cry and threw himself on his knees beside Patrick
O'Donoghan, seeking for some sign of life, a ray of hope. But the
Irishman was certainly dead this time, and that without revealing his
secret.

As for Tudor Brown, one convulsion shook his body, his gun fell from his
hands, in which he had tightly held it at the moment of his fall, and he
expired without a word.

"Father, what have you done?" cried Erik, bitterly. "Why have you
deprived me of the last chance that was left to me of discovering the
secret of my birth? Would it not have been better for us to throw
ourselves upon this man and take him prisoner?"

"And do you believe that he would have allowed us to do so?" answered
Mr. Hersebom. "His second shot was intended for you, you may be sure. I
have avenged the murder of this unfortunate man, punished the criminal
who attempted to shipwreck us, and who is guilty perhaps of other
crimes. Whatever may be the result, I do not regret having done so.
Besides of what consequence is the mystery surrounding your birth, my
child, to men in our situation? The secret of your birth before long,
without doubt, will be revealed to us by God."

He had hardly finished speaking, when the firing of a cannon was heard,
and it was re-echoed by the icebergs. It seemed like a reply to the
discouraging words of the old fisherman. It was doubtless a response to
the two gunshots which had been fired on their island of ice.

"The cannon of the 'Alaska!' We are saved!" cried Erik, jumping up and
climbing a hummock to get a better view of the sea that surrounded them.

He saw nothing at first but the icebergs, driven by the wind and
sparkling in the sunshine. But Mr. Hersebom, who had immediately
reloaded his gun, fired into the air, and a second discharge from the
cannon answered him almost immediately.

Then Erik discovered a thin streak of black smoke toward the west,
clearly defined against the blue sky. Gunshots, answered by the cannon,
were repeated at intervals of a few minutes, and soon the "Alaska"
steamed around an iceberg and made all speed toward the north of the
island.

Erik and Mr. Hersebom, weeping for joy, threw themselves into each
other's arms. They waved their handkerchiefs and threw their caps into
the air, seeking by all means to attract the attention of their friends.

At length the "Alaska" stopped, a boat was lowered, and in twenty
minutes it reached their island.

Who can describe the unbounded