the cold became very keen; but as there was no scarcity of
clothing on board, the colleagues, well wrapped up, remained a good
deal on deck thinking over their plans of escape, and watching for an
opportunity. Little was seen of Robur; since the high words that had
been exchanged in the Timbuktu country, the engineer had left off
speaking to his prisoners. Frycollin seldom came out of the
cook-house, where Tapage treated him most hospitably, on condition
that he acted as his assistant. This position was not without its
advantages, and the Negro, with his master's permission, very
willingly accepted it. Shut up in the galley, he saw nothing of what
was passing outside, and might even consider himself beyond the reach
of danger. He was, in fact, very like the ostrich, not only in his
stomach, but in his folly.

But whither went the "Albatross?" Was she in mid-winter bound for the
southern seas or continents round the Pole? In this icy atmosphere,
even granting that the elements of the batteries were unaffected by
such frost, would not all the crew succumb to a horrible death from
the cold? That Robur should attempt to cross the Pole in the warm
season was bad enough, but to attempt such a thing in the depth of
the winter night would be the act of a madman.

Thus reasoned the President and Secretary of the Weldon Institute,
now they had been brought to the end of the continent of the New
World, which is still America, although it does not belong to the
United States.

What was this intractable Robur going to do? Had not the time arrived
for them to end the voyage by blowing up the ship?

It was noticed that during the 24th of July the engineer had frequent
consultations with his mate. He and Tom Turner kept constant watch on
the barometer--not so much to keep themselves informed of the height
at which they were traveling as to be on the look-out for a change in
the weather. Evidently some indications had been observed of which it
was necessary to make careful note.

Uncle Prudent also remarked that Robur had been taking stock of the
provisions and stores, and everything seemed to show that he was
contemplating turning back.

"Turning back!" said Phil Evans. "But where to?"

"Where he can reprovision the ship," said Uncle Prudent.

"That ought to be in some lonely island in the Pacific with a colony
of scoundrels worthy of their chief."

"That is what I think. I fancy he is going west, and with the speed
he can