A groan of disappointment rises up from the table. The pudding is smashed to pieces, of course. No, for see--bravo! the doctor--he has clutched the trencher at a critical moment. Phoenix-like, he uprises with it from that chaos of arms and legs. He watches the chance. He gives one quick glance around him, at sea, at sky, at moving ship. He stakes his honour, his fame, and the very existence of that glorious globe of fragrant dough on one bold manoeuvre. Bearing it high over his head, he glides, he slides, he skates, one might say, towards the table; and in shorter time by far than it takes me to describe the gallant deed, he plumps the "great champion of the pudding race" down in front of the captain's pile of plates. "Hurrah! hurrah!" Why, the very sharks deep down in the ocean's blackest depths heard the shout; they took it for a battle-cry, and came surface-wards in all haste, making sure of a glorious feast. And an answering shout came up from the engine-room, where the stokers were at work. For they knew that the pudding was safely landed, and that their share would shortly come. And the captain must needs shake the doctor by the hand, while tears of joy and admiration stood in his eyes. "Doctor," he said, "you're a brick, sir, a brick and a half, sir. I never saw a bolder move. I never saw anything so pluckily done in my life before. I'm proud of my surgeon, proud of you." Then he sat down. The doctor made some reply, which was hardly heard amid the exclamations of accord in the captain's speech, which uprose from all round the table. A rough old sea-dog of a doctor he was, too, a thorough sailor. Any one could have seen that at a glance. Rough he was, yet kindly-hearted, and there was not a man on board, from the captain to the Kroo boy who helped the cook, who wouldn't have risked his life for their surgeon. I leave you to guess whether or not justice was done to that Christmas plum-pudding. Indeed, I only wish you could have seen the happy smiling faces that now surrounded the table, and really--though it was not polite of them--several of the crew had no less than _three_ helps, for "Cut and come again" was the captain's motto on this Christmas Day in the Doldrums. Well, of course songs and yarns followed dinner. The captain told a story, Archie told a story, Kenneth sang and played, the old bo'sun called Pipes had something queer to say, and so had the carpenter called Chips. "Now then, doctor," cried the captain. "It's your turn. Tell us something good." The doctor cleared his throat. "I'll do my best, sir," said the doctor with a modest smile. CHAPTER SIXTEEN. FROZEN UP IN THE NORTH. "Now hie' we to the Norlan seas And far-off fields of ice." Anon. "It is twenty years ago! Twenty years ago! Twenty years!" began the doctor.