my intention is to return to America and to Connecticut, I don't care whether I get there in three months or in six, or by what route; it's all the same to me, and even were your schooner to take me to the Antarctic seas—"
"The Antarctic seas!" exclaimed Captain Len Guy, with a question in his tone. And his look searched my thoughts with the keenness of a dagger.
"Why do you speak of the Antarctic seas?" he asked, taking my hand.
"Well, just as I might have spoken of the 'Hyperborean seas' from whence an Irish poet has made Sebastian Cabot address some lovely verses to his 'Lady.'[1] I spoke of the South Pole as I might have spoken of the North."
Captain Len Guy did not answer, and I thought I saw tears glisten in his eyes. Then, as though he would escape from some harrowing recollection which my words had evoked, he said,—
"Who would venture to seek the South Pole?"
"It would be difficult to reach, and the experiments would be of no practical use," I replied. "Nevertheless there are men sufficiently adventurous to embark in such an enterprise."
"Yes—adventurous is the word!" muttered the captain.
"And now," I resumed, "the United States is again making an attempt with Wilkes's fleet, the Vancouver, the Peacock, the Flying Fish, and others."
"The United States, Mr. Jeorling? Do you mean to say that an expedition has been sent by the Federal Government to the Antarctic seas?"
"The fact is certain, and last year, before I left America,
