"10 A.M.--All our alarm groundless, it would appear: the odd noise ceased after a time, and there was no mark sufficiently strong on the large cable to warrant the suspicion that we had cut another line through. I stopped up on the look-out till three in the morning, which made 23 hours between sleep and sleep. One goes dozing about, though, most of the day, for it is only when something goes wrong that one has to look alive. Hour after hour I stand on the forecastle-head, picking off little specimens of polypi and coral, or lie on the saloon deck reading back numbers of the _Times_--till something hitches, and then all is hurly-burly once more. There are awnings all along the ship, and a most ancient, fish-like smell beneath. "_1 o'clock._--Suddenly a great strain in only 95 fathoms of water--belts surging and general dismay; grapnels being thrown out in the hope of finding what holds the cable.--Should it prove the young cable! We are apparently crossing its path--not the working one, but the lost child; Mr. Liddell _would_ start the big one first, though it was laid first: he wanted to see the job done, and meant to leave us to the small one unaided by his presence. "3.30.--Grapnel caught something, lost it again; it left its marks on the prongs. Started lifting gear again; and after hauling in some 50 fathoms--grunt, grunt, grunt--we hear the other cable slipping down our big one, playing the self-same tune we heard last night--louder, however.