“Then,” returned the Captain, with emphasis, “I think you’ll find that you’re mistaken.”
“Ha! Captain Weeper—”
“Wopper,” said the Captain.
“Wopper,” repeated the Professor, “you are not the first who has expressed disbelief in what he cannot see, and you will assuredly not be the last; but if you will wait I will convince you.”
“Very good,” replied the Captain, “I’m open to conviction.”
“Which means,” said Lewis, “that you have nailed your colours to the mast, and mean to die rather than give in.”
“No doubt,” said the Captain, paying no attention to the last remark, “I see, and believe, that at some time or other the ice here must have been in a flowin’ state. I’m too well aware o’ the shape of waves an’ eddies, cross-currents and ripples, to doubt or deny that but any man with half an eye can see that it’s anchored hard and fast now. I’ve looked at it without flinchin’ for good ten minutes, and not the smallest sign of motion can I detect.”
“So might you say of the hour-hand of a watch,” observed Lawrence.
“Not at all,” retorted the Captain, becoming argumentative. “I look at the hour-hand of a watch for ten minutes and don’t see it move, but I do see that it has in reality passed over a very small but appreciable space in that time.”
“Just so,” said the Professor, “I will ere long show you the same thing in regard to the ice.”