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were not a hundred feet from the burning focus, the light of which increased and dazzled our eyes.
    At this moment, leaning on the forecastle bulwark, I saw below me Ned Land grappling the martingale in one hand, brandishing his terrible harpoon in the other, scarcely twenty feet from the motionless animal. Suddenly his arm straightened, and the harpoon was thrown; I heard the sonorous stroke of the weapon, which seemed to have struck a hard body. The electric light went out suddenly, and two enormous waterspouts broke over the bridge of the frigate, rushing like a torrent from stem to stern, overthrowing men, and breaking the lashings of the spars. A fearful shock followed, and, thrown over the rail without having time to stop myself, I fell into the sea.

CHAPTER VII
AN UNKNOWN SPECIES OF WHALE
    This unexpected fall so stunned me that I have no clear recollection of my sensations at the time. I was at first drawn down to a depth of about twenty feet. I am a good swimmer (though without pretending to rival Byron or Edgar Poe, who were masters of the art), and in that plunge I did not lose my presence of mind. Two vigorous strokes brought me to the surface of the water. My first care was to look for the frigate. Had the crew seen me disappear? Had the Abraham Lincoln veered round? Would the captain put out a boat? Might I hope to be saved?
    The darkness was intense. I caught a glimpse of a black mass disappearing in the east, its beacon lights dying out in the distance. It was the frigate! I was lost.
    "Help, help!" I shouted, swimming towards the Abraham Lincoln in desperation.
    My clothes encumbered me; they seemed glued to my body, and paralysed my movements.
    I was sinking! I was suffocating!
    "Help!"
    This was my last cry. My mouth filled with water; I struggled against being drawn down the abyss. Suddenly my clothes were seized by a strong hand, and I felt myself quickly drawn up to the surface of the sea; and I heard, yes, I heard these words pronounced in my ear:
    "If master would be so good as to lean on my shoulder, master would swim with much greater ease."
    I seized with one hand my faithful Conseil's arm.
    "Is it you?" said I, "you?"
    "Myself," answered Conseil; "and waiting master's orders."
    "That shock threw you as well as me into the sea?"
    "No; but, being in my master's service, I followed him."
    The worthy fellow thought that was but natural.
    "And the frigate?" I asked.
    "The frigate?" replied Conseil, turning on his back; "I think that master had better not count too much on her."
    "You think so?"
    "I say that, at the time I threw myself into the sea, I heard the men at the wheel say, `The screw and the rudder are broken.'
    "Broken?"
    "Yes, broken by the monster's teeth. It is the only injury the Abraham Lincoln has sustained. But it is a bad look-out for us—she no longer answers her helm."
    "Then we are lost!"
    "Perhaps so," calmly answered Conseil. "However, we have still several hours before us, and one can do a good deal in some hours."
    Conseil's imperturbable coolness set me up again. I swam more vigorously; but, cramped by my clothes, which stuck to me like a leaden weight, I felt great difficulty in bearing up. Conseil saw this.
    "Will master let me make a slit?" said he; and, slipping an open knife under my clothes, he ripped them up from top to bottom very rapidly. Then he cleverly slipped them off me, while I swam for both of us.
    Then I did the same for Conseil, and we continued to swim near to each other.
    Nevertheless, our situation was no less terrible. Perhaps our disappearance had not been noticed; and, if it had been, the frigate could not tack, being without its helm. Conseil argued on this supposition, and laid his plans accordingly. This quiet boy was perfectly self-possessed. We then decided that, as our only chance of safety was being picked up by the Abraham Lincoln's boats, we ought to manage so as to wait for them as long as possible. I resolved then to husband our strength, so