On the 15th of January an observation most carefully taken gave 43° 13ʹ longitude and 88° 17ʹ latitude. The Halbrane was less than two degrees from the pole.
Captain Len Guy did not seek to conceal the result of this observation, and the sailors knew enough of nautical calculation to understand it. Besides, if the consequences had to be explained to them, were not Holt and Hardy there to do this, and Hearne, to exaggerate them to the utmost?
During the afternoon I had indubitable proof that the sealing-master had been working on the minds of the crew. The men, emerging at the foot of the mainmast, talked in whispers and cast evil glances at us. Two or three sailors made threatening gestures undisguisedly; then arose such angry mutterings that West could not to be deaf to them.
He strode forward and called out: “Silence, there! The first man who speaks will have to reckon with me!”
Captain Len Guy was shut up in his cabin, but every moment I expected to see him come out, give one last look around the waste of waters, and then order the ship’s course to be reversed. Nevertheless, on the next day the schooner was sailing in the same direction. Unfortunately—for the circumstance had some gravity—a mist was beginning to come down on us. I could not keep still, I confess. My apprehensions were redoubled. It was evident that West was only awaiting the order to change the helm. What mortal anguish soever the captain’s must be, I understood too well that he would not give that order without hesitation.
For several days past I had not seen the half-breed, or, at least, I had not exchanged a word with him. He was boycotted by the whole crew, with the exception of the boatswain, who was careful to address him, although he rarely got a word in return. Dirk Peters took not the faintest notice of this state of things. He remained completely absorbed in his own thoughts, yet, had he heard West give the word to steer north, I know not to what acts of violence he might have been driven. He seemed to avoid me; was this from a desire not to compromise me?
On the 17th, in the afternoon, however, Dirk Peters manifested an intention of speaking to me, and never, no, never, could I have imagined what I was to learn in that interview.
It was about half-past two, and, not feeling well, I had gone to my cabin, where the side window was open, while that at the back was closed. I heard a knock at the door, and asked who was there.
“Dirk Peters,” was the reply.
“You want to speak to me?”