'How is the wreck to be entered?' I asked, looking up and waving my hat, and then again stretching forth my arms. 'It's a sailor's job. Have no fear. We'll get 'em out of that,' answered the mate, and standing up he hailed the man. The other flourished his arm. 'We're here to take you off,' bellowed Bland, 'and we'll do it. Don't take any notice of our leaving you. It won't be for long. D'ye hear me?' 'Ay, ay!' came the answer, feebly through the ceaseless thunder. It tore my heart to look up at the wreck, as we pulled away, and see Marie there, sundered from me by that curse of roaring foam, inaccessible, to be come at only by patience, naval skill, efforts which might have to be again and again repeated, always perilous. I cannot express how marvellously strange this ice-ramparted bay looked, with that wreck cradled on high, like a huge model in glass, tinted black, smoke lifting still cloudily from her deck, and the red inverted flag streaming like a square of fire against the marble white beyond. Many large pieces of ice floated in this sweep of water: but they showed plain, and the boat went securely. One piece was almost a berg: a miniature island. Here and there the sea broke over it. It was almost in the middle of the bay, and exactly abreast of the wreck. I observed that Mr. Bland ran his eye curiously over it as we pulled past. Who was the man on the hull that had answered us? He was not Captain Burke. My sight had not distinguished his face, yet I should have known him by his voice had he been Burke. Three had been left, so Wall the boatswain reported: Burke and his wife, and Miss Otway; I saw but two. The man had said there were two only: one was Marie: where were the others, and who was that stranger? We arrived alongside the brig, and with little difficulty I got aboard. The pull had occupied so short a while there had been scarce time to talk: but in any case the hurry and wildness of my spirits, my deep agitation, amazement and delight, mingled with dark wonder and jealous alarm, must have held me mute. Cliffe impatiently awaited us: Bland and Bodkin came on board, leaving the men in the boat. Bland immediately said: 'We must get them out with a cradle. There's no other way.' 'No landing, then, round that point there?' said Cliffe. 'Ay, sir, but the rocks are not to be climbed by anything wanting hoofs and horns.' 'Who are they?' 'One's the young lady,' said the mate. Cliffe spun round and stretched his hand to me. 'I do congratulate you,' he cried, convulsing his countenance. 'It's a noble errand nobly rounded off. Hurrah!' and in a sudden ecstasy he pulled off his hat and whirled it three or four times over his head. He then cried, 'But two only? The third ain't dead, I hope?' 'Captain Burke and his wife are not there,' said I. He grimaced at me, and said, 'Who's the man, then? But asking questions won't get them out of it. What d'ye propose?'