13 



Afternoon by the Ice 



(Bntish IIT) 



A MESSAGE from the Truelove, Cap'n, sir," announced the sea- 

 man, pulling his forelock. 



"Thank you, Bates," the captain said without looking up from the 

 calculations that had been occupying him all morning. There was 

 silence in the cabin while the hard, cold sunlight poured through the 

 skylight. 



Then the air was split by a sudden explosion, as if a giant had 

 snapped some vast timber across his knee, and the whole ship gave a 

 convulsive shudder. The captain jerked his head up and looked the 

 seaman straight in the eye. 



"What the devil are you waiting for?" he snapped. 



"She's going, sir," the man almost screamed. "She can't take it, I 

 tell you, she can't . . ." But the captain cut him short. 



"Get out!" he ordered. 



"But I tell you she's going, sir," the seaman persisted. 



Captain Silas Hardwicke looked at the man askance, and uncon- 

 trollable rage began to well up somewhere inside him. He had never 



