"The _Advance_ and the _Rescue_," he said to them, "were so knocked about by the ice, that they were obliged to leave off fires on board; but that did not prevent the temperature sinking 18 degrees below zero. During the whole winter the unfortunate crews were kept prisoners in the ice-bank, ready to abandon their ships at any moment; for three weeks they did not even change their clothes. They floated along in that dreadful situation for more than a thousand miles, when at last they were thrown into the middle of Baffin's Sea." The effect of this speech upon a crew already badly disposed can be well imagined. During this conversation Johnson was talking to the doctor about an event that had taken place in those very quarters; he asked the doctor to tell him when the brig was in latitude 75 degrees 30 minutes, and when they passed it he cried: "Yes, it was just there!" in saying which tears filled his eyes. "You mean that Lieutenant Bellot died there?" said the doctor. "Yes, Mr. Clawbonny. He was as good and brave a fellow as ever lived! It was upon this very North Devon coast! It was to be, I suppose, but if Captain Pullen had returned on board sooner it would not have happened." "What do you mean, Johnson?" "Listen to me, Mr. Clawbonny, and you will see on what a slight thread existence often hangs. You know that Lieutenant Bellot went his first campaign in search of Franklin in 1850?" "Yes, on the _Prince Albert_." "Well, when he got back to France he obtained permission to embark on board the _Phoenix_ under Captain Inglefield; I was a sailor on board. We came with the _Breadalbane_ to transport provisions to Beechey Island!" "Those provisions we, unfortunately, did not find. Well?"