it coincided pretty nearly with the fourteenth meridian of east longitude;
and if it reached, as probably it did, beyond Sicily to Italy, it was certain

that the vast basin of the Mediterranean, which had washed the shores
alike of Europe, Asia, and Africa, must have been reduced to about half

its original area.
It was resolved to proceed upon the same plan as heretofore, following

the boundary of the land at a safe distance. Accordingly, the head
of the _Dobryna_ was pointed north, making straight, as it was presumed,

for the south of Europe. A hundred miles, or somewhat over,
in that direction, and it was to be anticipated she would come in sight

of Malta, if only that ancient island, the heritage in succession
of Phoenicians, Carthaginians, Sicilians, Romans, Vandals, Greeks, Arabians,

and the knights of Rhodes, should still be undestroyed.
But Malta, too, was gone; and when, upon the 14th, the sounding-line

was dropped upon its site, it was only with the same result
so oftentimes obtained before.

"The devastation is not limited to Africa," observed the count.
"Assuredly not," assented the lieutenant; adding, "and I confess I

am almost in despair whether we shall ever ascertain its limits.
To what quarter of Europe, if Europe still exists, do you propose

that I should now direct your course?"
"To Sicily, Italy, France!" ejaculated Servadac, eagerly,--"anywhere where we

can learn the truth of what has befallen us."
"How if we are the sole survivors?" said the count, gravely.

Hector Servadac was silent; his own secret presentiment so
thoroughly coincided with the doubts expressed by the count,

that he refrained from saying another word.
The coast, without deviation, still tended towards the north.

No alternative, therefore, remained than to take a westerly course
and to attempt to reach the northern shores of the Mediterranean. On the

l6th the _Dobryna_ essayed to start upon her altered way, but it
seemed as if the elements had conspired to obstruct her progress.

A furioustempest arose; the wind beat dead in the direction
of the coast, and the danger incurred by a vessel of a tonnage

so light was necessarily very great.
Lieutenant Procope was extremelyuneasy. He took in all sail,

struck his topmasts, and resolved to rely entirely on his engine.
But the peril seemed only to increase. Enormous waves caught

the schooner and carried her up to their crests, whence again
she was plunged deep into the abysses that they left.

The screw failed to keep its hold upon the water, but continually
revolved with useless speed in the vacant air; and thus,

although the steam was forced on to the extremest limit consistent
with safety, the vessel held her way with the utmost difficulty,

and recoiled before the hurricane.
Still, not a single resort for refuge did the inaccessible

shore present. Again and again the lieutenant asked himself
what would become of him and his comrades, even if they should

survive the peril of shipwreck, and gain a footing upon the cliff.
What resources could they expect to find upon that scene of desolation?

What hope could they entertain that any portion of the old continent
still existed beyond that dreary barrier?

It was a trying time, but throughout it all the crew behaved
with the greatest courage and composure; confident in the skill

of their commander, and in the stability of their ship, they performed
their duties with steadiness and unquestioning obedience.

But neither skill, nor courage, nor obedience could avail;
all was in vain. Despite the strain put upon her engine,

the schooner, bare of canvas (for not even the smallest stay-sail
could have withstood the violence of the storm), was drifting with

terrific speed towards the menacing precipices, which were only a.
few short miles to leeward. Fully alive to the hopelessness

of their situation, the crew were all on deck.
"All over with us, sir!" said Procope to the count.

"I have done everything that man could do; but our case
is desperate. Nothing short of a miracle can save us now.

Within an hour we must go to pieces upon yonder rocks."
"Let us, then, commend ourselves to the providence of Him

to Whom nothing is impossible," replied the count, in a calm,
clear voice that could be distinctly heard by all; and as he spoke,

he reverently uncovered, an example in which he was followed
by all the rest.

The destruction of the vesselseeming thus inevitable,
Lieutenant Procope took the best measures he could to insure

a few days' supply of food for any who might escape ashore.
He ordered several cases of provisions and kegs of water to be

brought on deck, and saw that they were securely lashed to some
empty barrels, to make them float after the ship had gone down.

Less and less grew the distance from the shore, but no creek,
no inlet, could be discerned in the towering wall of cliff,

which seemed about to topple over and involve them in annihilation.
Except a change of wind or, as Procope observed, a supernatural

rifting of the rock, nothing could bring deliverance now.
But the wind did not veer, and in a few minutes more the schooner

was hardly three cables' distance from the fatal land.
All were aware that their last moment had arrived.

Servadac and the count grasped each other's hands for a long farewell;
and, tossed by the tremendous waves, the schooner was on the very point

of being hurled upon the cliff, when a ringing shout was heard.
"Quick, boys, quick! Hoist the jib, and right the tiller!"

Sudden and startling as the unexpected orders were, they were executed
as if by magic.

The lieutenant, who had shouted from the bow, rushed astern and took the helm,
and before anyone had time to speculate upon the object of his maneuvers,

he shouted again, "Look out! sharp! watch the sheets!"
An involuntary cry broke forth from all on board.

But it was no cry of terror. Right ahead was a narrow
opening in the solid rock; it was hardly forty feet wide.

Whether it was a passage or no, it mattered little;
it was at least a refuge; and, driven by wind and wave,

the _Dobryna_, under the dexterous guidance of the lieutenant,
dashed in between its perpendicular walls.

Had she not immured herself in a perpetual prison?
CHAPTER XIII

A ROYAL SALUTE
"Then I take your bishop, major," said Colonel Murphy, as he made

a move that he had taken since the previous evening to consider.
"I was afraid you would," replied Major Oliphant, looking intently

at the chess-board.
Such was the way in which a long silence was broken on the morning

of the 17th of February by the old calendar.
Another day elapsed before another move was made. It was a protracted game;

it had, in fact, already lasted some months--the players being so deliberate,
and so fearful of taking a step without the most mature consideration,

that even now they were only making the twentieth move.
Both of them, moreover, were rigid disciples of the renowned Philidor,

who pronounces that to play the pawns well is "the soul of chess";
and, accordingly, not one pawn had been sacrificed without

a most vigorous defense.
The men who were thus beguiling their leisure were two

officers in the British army--Colonel Heneage Finch Murphy
and Major Sir John Temple Oliphant. Remarkably similar in

personal appearance, they were hardly less so in personal character.
Both of them were about forty years of age; both of them were tall

and fair, with bushy whiskers and mustaches; both of them were
phlegmatic in temperament, and both much addicted to the wearing

of their uniforms. They were proud of their nationality, and exhibited
a manifestdislike, verging upon contempt, of everything foreign.

Probably they would have felt no surprise if they had been told
that Anglo-Saxons were fashioned out of some specific clay,

the properties of which surpassed the investigation of chemical analysis.
Without any intentional disparagement they might, in a certain way,

be compared to two scarecrows which, though perfectly harmless
in themselves, inspire some measure of respect, and are excellently

adapted to protect the territory intrusted to their guardianship.
English-like, the two officers had made themselves thoroughly at home

in the station abroad in which it had been their lot to be quartered.
The faculty of colonization seems to be indigenous to the native character;

once let an Englishman plant his national standard on the surface of the moon,
and it would not be long before a colony was established round it.

The officers had a servant, named Kirke, and a company of ten
soldiers of the line. This party of thirteen men were apparently

the sole survivors of an overwhelmingcatastrophe, which on the 1st
of January had transformed an enormous rock, garrisoned with well-nigh

two thousand troops, into an significant" target="_blank" title="a.无意义的；无价值的">insignificant island far out to sea.
But although the transformation had been so marvelous, it cannot

be said that either Colonel Murphy or Major Oliphant had made much
demonstration of astonishment.