The engines of the ‘Pioneer’ are 60-horse power, and as she now is she will not run very fast without her sails, but with wind and steam she will make eleven knots an hour. The two steamers—the ‘Pioneer’ and the ‘Intrepid’—are to go as tenders to the sailing ships, and to tow them in the still waters at the Pole, for there when there is no wind there are no waves. We left the ‘Pioneer’ to look over her companion ships. The ‘Intrepid’ was being arranged on the same system; the others, the ‘Assistance’ and the ‘Resolute,’ were afloat at the dock side, and, being sailing ships, had of course none of their space filled by engines, and, therefore, seemed rather more roomy. Yet, having seen one Arctic ship, we had seen the whole. We heard of gutta-percha sledges to be used on the ice, and of small pilot balloons to be inflated and sent over the frozen regions of the Pole, and which, as they float in the air, are to drop printed slips—words of hope and news of succour—in anticipation that some of these paper messages may reach the frozen-in, lost, mariners, Sir John Franklin and his crew. We heard, also, that the sailing ships would each have a crew of about sixty-five men, and the steamers each about twenty-five, including others. But every one was so busy on board these sailing ships, and their work was so holy in its intent, that we were unwilling to disturb either officer or man with many questions; and so made our way again London-wards. The last thing we noticed on board these Arctic ships was an inscription that glittered in the sunshine of that April afternoon, for the words were carved in letters of brass on the steersman’s wheel that is to guide the vessels on their perilous way. And our last feeling was that the hope contained in the words would be realised. The words so written are:—ENGLAND EXPECTS EVERY MAN TO DO HIS DUTY. THE MINER’S DAUGHTERS.—A TALE OF THE PEAK. IN THREE CHAPTERS. CHAPTER III. THE COURTSHIP AND ANOTHER SHIP. One evening, as the two sisters were hastening along the road through the woods on their way homewards, a young farmer drove up in his spring-cart, cast a look at them, stopped, and said: ‘Young women, if you are going my way, I shall be glad of your company. You are quite welcome to ride.’ The sisters looked at each other. ‘Dunna be afreed,’ said the young farmer; ‘my name’s James Cheshire. I’m well known in these parts; you may trust yersens wi’ me, if it’s agreeable.’ To James’s surprise, Nancy said, ‘No, sir, we are not afraid; we are much obliged to you.’ The young farmer helped them up into the cart, and away they drove. ‘I’m afraid we shall crowd you,’ said Jane. ‘Not a bit of it,’ replied the young farmer. ‘There’s room for three bigger nor us on this seat, and I’m no ways tedious.’