The faithful dog barked as if he understood, and settled himself down beside his master. Johnson looked at the Doctor, who seemed at a loss to know what to do, but came to the conclusion at last that the best way, meantime, was to calm Hatteras, even at the sacrifice of a day. He was just about to try the force of his eloquence in this direction, when he felt a light touch on his arm, and turning round saw Altamont who had crawled out of bed and managed to get on his knees. He was trying to speak, but his swollen lips could scarcely make a sound. Hatteras went towards him, and watched his efforts to articulate so attentively that in a few minutes he made out a word that sounded like Porpoise, and stooping over him he asked-- "Is it the Porpoise?" Altamont made a sign in the affirmative, and Hatteras went on with his queries, now that he had found a clue. "In these seas?" The affirmative gesture was repeated. "Is she in the north?" "Yes." "Do you know her position?" "Yes." "Exactly?" "Yes." For a minute or so, nothing more was said, and the onlookers waited with palpitating hearts. Then Hatteras spoke again and said-- "Listen to me. We must know the exact position of your vessel. I will count the degrees aloud, and you; will stop me when I come to the right one." The American assented by a motion of the head, and Hatteras began-- "We'll take the longitude first. 105 deg., No? 106 deg., 107 deg.? It is to the west, I suppose?" "Yes," replied Altamont. "Let us go on, then: 109 deg., 110 deg., 112 deg., 114 deg., 116 deg., 118 deg., 120 deg." "Yes," interrupted the sick man. [Illustration: ] "120 deg. of longitude, and how many minutes? I will count." Hatteras began at number one, and when he got to fifteen, Altamont made a sign to stop. "Very good," said Hatteras; "now for the latitude. Are you listening? 80 deg., 81 deg., 82 deg., 83 deg." Again the sign to stop was made. "Now for the minutes: 5', 10', 15', 20', 25', 30', 35'." Altamont stopped him once more, and smiled feebly. "You say, then, that the Porpoise is in longitude 120 deg. 15', and latitude 83 deg. 35'?" "Yes," sighed the American, and fell back motionless in the Doctor's arms, completely overpowered by the effort he had made. "Friends!" exclaimed Hatteras; "you see I was right. Our salvation lies indeed in the north, always in the north. We shall be saved!" But the joyous, exulting words had hardly escaped his lips before a sudden thought made his countenance change. The serpent of jealousy had stung him, for this stranger was an American, and he had reached three degrees nearer the Pole than the ill-fated Forward. CHAPTER III. A SEVENTEEN DAYS' MARCH.