Bennett had spoken as he did after a moment's rapid thinking. To Adler's questions as to the manner of the chief engineer's death Bennett had at first given evasive replies. But a sudden sense of shame at being compelled to dissemble before a subordinate had lashed him across the face. True, he had made a mistake--a fearful, unspeakable mistake--but at least let him be man enough to face and to accept its consequences. It might not be necessary or even expedient to make acknowledgment of his folly in all quarters, but at that moment it seemed to him that his men--at least one of them--who had been under the command of himself and his friend, had a right to be told the truth. It had been only one degree less distasteful to undeceive Adler than it had been to deceive him in the first place. Bennett was not the general to explain his actions to his men. But he had not hesitated a moment. However, Adler was full of another subject, and soon broke out with: "You know, sir, there's another expedition forming; I suppose you have heard--an English one. They call it the Duane-Parsons expedition. They are going to try the old route by Smith Sound. They are going to winter at Tasiusak, and try to get through the sound as soon as the ice breaks up in the spring. But Duane's ideas are all wrong. He'll make no very high northing, not above eighty-five. I'll bet a hat. When we go up again, sir, will you--will you let me--will you take me along? Did I give satisfaction this last--" "I'm never going up again, Adler," answered Bennett. "Sho!" said Adler a little blankly. "I thought sure--I never thought that you--why, there ain't no one else but you _can_ do it, captain." "Oh, yes, there is," said Bennett listlessly. "Duane can--if he has luck. I know him. He's a good man. No, I'm out of it, Adler; I had my chance. It is somebody else's turn now. Do you want to go with Duane? I can give you letters to him. He'd be glad to have you, I know." Adler started from his place. "Why, do you think--" he exclaimed vehemently--"do you think I'd go with anybody else but you, sir? Oh, you will be going some of these days, I'm sure of it. We--we'll have another try at it, sir, before we die. We ain't beaten yet." "Yes, we are, Adler," returned Bennett, smiling calmly; "we'll stay at home now and write our book. But we'll let some one else reach the Pole. That's not for us--never will be, Adler." At the end of their talk some half-hour later Adler stood up, remarking: "Guess I'd better be standing by if I'm to get the last train back to the City to-night. They told me at the station that she'd clear about midnight." Suddenly he began to show signs of uneasiness, turning his cap about between his fingers, changing his weight from foot to foot. Then at length: