We should have been happy to offer you hospitality while awaiting the arrival of another ship.”

“Such hospitality would have been most valuable to me,” I replied, “but unfortunately I cannot avail myself of it.”

In fact, I had finally resolved not to quit the schooner, but to embark for America from tile Falkland Isles with out much delay. I felt sure that Captain Len Guy would not refuse to take me to the islands. I informed Mr. Glass of my intention, and he remarked, still in a tone of annoyance,—

“As for your captain, I have not even seen the colour of his hair.”

“I don’t think he has any intention of coming ashore.”

“Is he ill?”

“Not to my knowledge. But it does not concern you, since he has sent his lieutenant to represent him.”

“Oh, he’s a cheerful person! One may extract two words from him occasionally. Fortunately, it is easier to get coin out of his pocket than speech out of his lips.”

“That’s the important thing, Mr. Glass.”

“You are right, sir—Mr. Jeorling, of Connecticut, I believe ?”

I assented.

“So! I know your name, while I have yet to learn that of the captain of the Halbrane.”

“His name is Guy—Len Guy.”

“An Englishman ?”

“Yes—an Englishman.”

“He might have taken the trouble to pay a visit to a countryman of his, Mr. Jeorling! But stay! I had some dealings formerly with a captain of that name. Guy, Guy—”

“William Guy?” I asked, quickly.

“Precisely. William Guy.”

“Who commanded the Jane?”

“The Jane? Yes. The same man.”

“An English schooner which put in at Tristan d’Acunha eleven years ago ?”

“Eleven years, Mr. Jeorling. I had been settled in the island where Captain Jeffrey, of the Berwick, of London, found me in the year 1824, for full seven years. I perfectly recall this William Guy, as if he were before me. He was a fine, open-hearted fellow, and I sold him a cargo of seal-skins. He had the air of a gentleman, rather proud, but good-natured.”

“And the Jane!”

“I can see her now at her moorings in the same place as the Halbrane. She was a handsome vessel of one hundred and eighty tons, very slender for’ards. She belonged to the port of Liverpool.”

“Yes; that is true, all that is true.”

“And is the Jane still afloat, Mr. Jeorling?”

“No, Mr. Glass.”

“Was she lost ?”

“The fact is only too true, and the greater part of her crew with her.”

“Will you tell me how this happened?”

“Willingly. On leaving Tristan d’Acunha the Jane headed for the bearings of the Aurora and other islands, which William Guy hoped to recognize from information—”

“That came from me,” interrupted the ex-corporal. “And those other islands, may I learn whether the Jane discovered them?”

“No, nor the Auroras either, although William Guy remained several weeks in those waters, running from east to west, with a look-out always at the masthead.”

“He must have lost his bearings, Mr. Jeorling, for, if several whalers, who were well deserving of credit, are to be believed, these islands do exist, and it was even proposed to give them my name.”

“That would have been but just,” I replied politely. “It will be very vexatious if they are not discovered some day,” added the Governor, in a tone which indicated that he was not devoid of vanity.

“It was then,” I resumed, “that Captain Guy resolved to carry out a project he had long cherished, and in which he was encouraged by a certain passenger who was on board the Jane—”

“Arthur Gordon Pym,” exclaimed Glass, “and his companion, one Dirk Peters; the two had been picked up at sea by the schooner.”

“You knew them, Mr. Glass?” I asked eagerly.

“Knew them, Mr. Jeorling? I should think I did, indeed! That Arthur Pym was a strange person, always wanting to rush into adventures—a real rash American, quite capable of starting off to the moon! Has he gone there at last?”

“No, not quite, Mr. Glass, but, during her voyage, the schooner, it seems, did clear the polar circle, and pass the ice-wall. She got farther than any ship had ever done before.”

“What a wonderful feat!”

“Yes. Unfortunately, the Jane did not return.

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