Mr. Bredejord, Mr. Malarius, and the doctor were keeping watch beside the corpse.  They arose as soon as they saw Erik.

“My poor child, what is the cause of this sad state of things?  How did it happen?” asked the doctor.

“It is inexplicable,” answered the young man, looking at the chart which lay open upon the table.  “I felt instinctively that we were out of our route, and I said so; but in my estimation we are at least three miles from the light-house; and all the seamen agree with me,” he added, designating a spot with his finger on the map—­and you see no danger is indicated—­no sand-banks or rocks.  This coloring indicates deep water.  It is inconceivable how the mistake can have occurred.  We can not suppose that a chart of the British Admiralty can be at fault, for it is a region well known to mariners, as it has been minutely explored for centuries!”

“Is it not possible to make a mistake as to our position?  Could not one light be mistaken for another?” asked Mr. Bredejord.

“That is scarcely possible in a voyage as short as ours has been since we left Brest,” said Erik.  “Remember that we have not lost, sight of land for a moment, and that we have been passing from one point to another.  We can only suppose that one of the lights indicated on the chart has not been lighted or that some supplementary light has been added—­in a word, we must imagine what is highly improbable.  Our course has been so regular, the soundings have been so carefully made, that it seems impossible that we could have mistaken our route, and yet the fact remains that we are on the rocks, when we ought to have been some distance out to sea.”

“But how is it going to end?  That is what I want to know,” cried the doctor.

“We shall soon see,” answered Erik, “if the maritime authorities show any eagerness to come to our assistance.  For the present the best thing that every one can do is to go quietly to bed, since we are as secure as if we were at anchor in some quiet bay.”

The young commander did not add that it was his intention to keep watch while his friends slept.

Nevertheless this is what he did for the remainder of the night, sometimes promenading the deck and encouraging the men, sometimes descending for a few minutes to the saloon.

As day commenced to dawn he had the satisfaction of perceiving that the waves visibly receded, and if they continued to do so the “Alaska” would be left almost on dry rocks.  This gave him hope of being able speedily to determine the extent of the damage which the vessel had received, and, in fact, toward seven o’clock they were able to proceed with this examination.