stand it, sir,’ says I.  ‘You must,’ says the captain, ’because it’s the cure.’  I crammed down a mouthful, and turned paler than ever.  ‘Go on deck,’ says the captain.  ’Get rid of the cod’s head, and come back to the cabin.’  Off I go, and back I come.  ’Boiled leg of mutton and trimmings,’ says the captain, and helps me.  ’No fat, sir,’ says I.  ‘Fat’s the cure,’ says the captain, and makes me eat it.  ‘Lean’s the cure,’ says the captain, and makes me eat it.  ‘Steady?’ says the captain.  ‘Sick,’ says I.  ‘Go on deck,’ says the captain; ’get rid of the boiled leg of mutton and trimmings and come back to the cabin.’  Off I go, staggering—­back I come, more dead than alive.  ‘Deviled kidneys,’ says the captain.  I shut my eyes, and got ’em down.  ‘Cure’s beginning,’ says the captain.  ‘Mutton-chop and pickles.’  I shut my eyes, and got them down.  ‘Broiled ham and cayenne pepper,’ says the captain.  ’Glass of stout and cranberry tart.  Want to go on deck again?’ ‘No, sir,’ says I.  ‘Cure’s done,’ says the captain.  ’Never you give in to your stomach, and your stomach will end in giving in to you.’”

Having stated the moral purpose of his story in those unanswerable words, John Want took himself and his saucepan into the kitchen.  A moment later, Crayford returned to the hut and astonished Frank Aldersley by an unexpected question.

“Have you anything in your berth, Frank, that you set a value on?”

“Nothing that I set the smallest value on—­when I am out of it,” he replied.  “What does your question mean?”

“We are almost as short of fuel as we are of provisions,” Crayford proceeded.  “Your berth will make good firing.  I have directed Bateson to be here in ten minutes with his ax.”

“Very attentive and considerate on your part,” said Frank.  “What is to become of me, if you please, when Bateson has chopped my bed into fire-wood?”

“Can’t you guess?”

“I suppose the cold has stupefied me.  The riddle is beyond my reading.  Suppose you give me a hint?”

“Certainly.  There will be beds to spare soon—­there is to be a change at last in our wretched lives here.  Do you see it now?”

Frank’s eyes sparkled.  He sprang out of his berth, and waved his fur cap in triumph.

“See it?” he exclaimed; “of course I do!  The exploring party is to start at last.  Do I go with the expedition?”

“It is not very long since you were in the doctor’s hands, Frank,” said Crayford, kindly.  “I doubt if you are strong enough yet to make one of the exploring party.”

“Strong enough or not,” returned Frank, “any risk is better than pining and perishing here.  Put me down, Crayford, among those who volunteer to go.”

“Volunteers will not be accepted, in this case,” said Crayford.  “Captain Helding and Captain Ebsworth see serious objections, as we are situated, to that method of proceeding.”

“Do they mean to keep the appointments in their own hands?” asked Frank.  “I for one object to that.”