At 6·40 a.m., Greenwich time, the bow of the ship was brought up to the grapnel line. The machinery was set to work to pull up the 2,500 fathoms of rope. The index of the dynamometer, immediately on the first revolutions of the wheels and drums, rose to 85 cwt. The operation was of course exceedingly tedious, and its difficulty was increased by the nature of the rope, which was not made in a continuous piece, but in lengths of 100 fathoms each, secured by shackles and swivels of large size, and presumably of proportionate strength. It was watched with intense interest. The bows were crowded, in spite of the danger to which the spectators were exposed by the snapping of the wire-rope, which might have caused them serious and fatal injuries. At 7·15 o’clock, a.m., the first 100 fathoms of rope were in, and the great iron shackle and swivel at the end of the length were regarded with some feelings of triumph. At 7·55 a.m. the second length of 100 fathoms was on board, the strain varying from 65 to 75 cwt. At 8·10 a.m., when 400 fathoms had been purchased in and coiled away, the driving spur-wheel of the machinery broke, and the rope snapped, the strain being 90 cwt. at the time. The whole of the two miles of wire rope, grapnel and all, would have been lost, but that the stoppers caught the shackle at the end, and saved the experiment from a fatal termination. The operation was suspended for a short time, in order to permit the damage to be made good, and the rope was transferred to the capstan. The hazardous nature of the work, owing to the straining and jerking of the wire rope, was painfully evinced by the occurrence of accidents to two of the best men on Mr. Canning’s staff--one of whom was cut on the face, and the other had his jaw laid open. At noon nearly half a mile of rope was gathered in. With every length of Cable drawn up from the sea, the spirits of all on board became lighter, and whilst we all talked of the uncertainty of such an accomplishment, there was a sentiment stronger than any one would care to avow, inspiring the secret confidence that, having caught the Cable in this extraordinary manner, we should get it up at last, and end our strange eventful history by a triumphant entry to Heart’s Content. Already there were divers theories started as to the best way of getting the Cable on board, for if Mr. Canning ever saw the bight, the obvious question arose, “What will he do with it?” The whole of our speculations were abruptly terminated at 2·50 o’clock, p.m. As the shackle and swivel of the eleventh length of rope, which would have made a mile on board, were passing the machinery, the head of the swivel pin was wrung off by the strain, and the 1,400 fathoms of line, with grapnel attached, rushed down again to the bottom of the Atlantic, carrying with it the bight of Cable. The shock was bitter and sharp. The nature of the mishap was quite unforeseen. The engineers had calculated that the wire