for the sake of not discouraging our comrades, we ought to continue to pierce the wall where we have begun. We must find an issue ere long."
"Will not the spirit fail us?" asked the captain.
"I hope not. But let us, if necessary, dispense with coffee and hot drinks. Besides, that is not what most alarms me."
"What is it, then, Penellan?"
"Our lamp is going out, for want of oil, and we are fast exhausting our provisions."
The time for rest had come, and when Penellan had added one more foot to the opening, he lay down beside his comrades.
CHAPTER XI
A CLOUD OF SMOKE
The next day, when the sailors awoke, they were surrounded by complete darkness. The lamp had gone out. Jean Cornbutte roused Penellan to ask him for the tinderbox, which was passed to him. Penellan rose to light the fire, but in getting up, his head struck against the ice ceiling. He was horrified, for on the evening before he could still stand upright. The chafing-dish being lighted up by the dim rays of the spirit, he perceived that the ceiling was a foot lower than before.
Penellan resumed work with desperation.
Marie, by the light which the chafing-dish cast upon Penellan's face, saw that despair and determination were struggling in his rough features for the mastery. She went to him, took his hands, and tenderly pressed them.
"She cannot, must not die thus!" he cried.
He took his chafing-dish, and once more attcked the narrow opening. He plunged in his staff, and felt no resistance. Had he reached the soft layers of the snow? He drew out his staff, and a bright ray penetrated to the house of ice!
"Here, my friends!" he shouted.
He pushed back the snow with his hands and feet. With the rays of light, a violent cold entered the cabin and seized upon everything moist, to freeze it in an instant. Penellan enlarged the opening with his cutlass, and at last was able to
