"Yes," he answered, with his face expressing surprise at the question.
"You want to reach the North Pole," resumed the doctor; "I understand your ambition, I share it, but to reach this end we need the means."
"Well, haven't I so far sacrificed everything in order to succeed?"
"No, Hatteras, you have not sacrificed your personal prejudices, and at this moment I see that you are ready to refuse the indispensable means of reaching the Pole."
"Ah!" answered Hatteras, "you mean the launch; this man—"
"Come, Hatteras, let us argue coolly, without passion, and look at all sides of the question. The line of the coast on which we have wintered may be broken; there is no proof that it runs six degrees to the north; if the information which has brought you so far is right, we ought to find a vast extent of open sea during the summer months. Now, with the Arctic Ocean before us, free of ice and favorable for navigation, what shall we do if we lack the means of crossing it?"
Hatteras made no answer.
"Do you want to be within a few miles of the Pole without being able to reach it?"
Hatteras's head sank into his hands.
"And now," continued the doctor, "let us look at the question from a moral point of view. I can understand that an Englishman should give up his life and his fortune for the honor of his country. But because a boat made of a few planks torn from a wrecked American ship first touches the coast or crosses the unknown ocean, can that diminish the honor of the discovery? If you found on this shore the hull of an abandoned ship, should you hesitate to make use of it? Doesn't the glory of success belong to the head of the expedition? And I ask you if this launch built by four Englishmen, manned by four Englishmen, would not be English from keel to gunwale?"