The sailor on watch opened the outer door. There, plodding overthe ghastly white snow, were the officers of the _Wanderer_approaching the hut. There, scattered under the merciless blacksky, were the crew, with the dogs and the sledges, waiting theword which was to start them on their perilous and doubtfuljourney.

Captain Helding of the _Wanderer_, accompanied by his officers,entered the hut, in high spirits at the prospect of a change.Behind them, lounging in slowly by himself, was a dark, sullen,heavy-browed man. He neither spoke, nor offered his hand toanybody: he was the one person present who seemed to be perfectlyindifferent to the fate in store for him. This was the man whomhis brother officers had nicknamed the Bear of the Expedition. Inother words--Richard Wardour.

Crayford advanced to welcome Captain Helding. Frank, rememberingthe friendly reproof which he had just received, passed ov er theother officers of the _Wanderer_, and made a special effort to becivil to Crayford's friend.

"Good-morning, Mr. Wardour," he said. "We may congratulate eachother on the chance of leaving this horrible place."

"_You_ may think it horrible," Wardour retorted; "I like it."

"Like it? Good Heavens! why?"

"Because there are no women here."

Frank turned to his brother officers, without making any furtheradvances in the direction of Richard Wardour. The Bear of theExpedition was more unapproachable than ever.

In the meantime, the hut had become thronged by the able-bodiedofficers and men of the two ships. Captain Helding, standing inthe midst of them, with Crayford by his side, proceeded toexplain the purpose of the contemplated expedition to theaudience which surrounded him.

He began in these words:

"Brother officers and men of the _Wanderer_ and _Sea-mew_, it ismy duty to tell you, very briefly, the reasons which have decidedCaptain Ebsworth and myself on dispatching an exploring party insearch of help. Without recalling all the hardships we havesuffered for the last two years--the destruction, first of one ofour ships, then of the other; the death of some of our bravestand best companions; the vain battles we have been fighting withthe ice and snow, and boundless desolation of these inhospitableregions--without dwelling on these things, it is my duty toremind you that this, the last place in which we have takenrefuge, is far beyond the track of any previous expedition, andthat consequently our chance of being discovered by any rescuingparties that may be sent to look after us is, to say the least ofit, a chance of the most uncertain kind. You all agree with me,gentlemen, so far?"

The officers (with the exception of Wardour, who stood apart insullen silence) all agreed, so far.

The captain went on.

"It is therefore urgently necessary that we should make another,and probably a last, effort to extricate ourselves. The winter isnot far off, game is getting scarcer and scarcer, our stock ofprovisions is running low, and the sick--especially, I am sorryto say, the sick in the _Wanderer_'s hut--are increasing innumber day by day. We must look to our own lives, and to thelives of those who are dependent on us; and we have no time tolose."

The officers echoed the words cheerfully.

"Right! right! No time to lose."

Captain Helding resumed:

"The plan proposed is, that a detachment of the able-bodiedofficers and men among us should set forth this very day, andmake another effort to reach the nearest inhabited settlements,from which help and provisions may be dispatched to those whoremain here. The new direction to be taken, and the variousprecautions to be adopted, are all drawn out ready. The onlyquestion now before us is, Who is to stop here, and who is toundertake the journey?"

The officers answered the question with one accord--"Volunteers!"

The men echoed their officers. "Ay, ay, volunteers."

Wardour still preserved his sullen silence. Crayford noticed him.standing apart from the rest, and appealed to him personally.

"Do you say nothing?" he asked.

"Nothing," Wardour answered. "Go or stay, it's all one to me."

"I hope you don't really mean that?" said Crayford.

"I do."

"I am sorry to hear it, Wardour."

Captain Helding answered the general suggestion in favor ofvolunteering by a question which instantly checked the risingenthusiasm of the meeting.

"Well," he said, "suppose we say volunteers. Who volunteers tostop in the huts?"

There was a dead silence. The officers and men looked at eachother confusedly. The captain continued:

"You see we can't settle it by volunteering. You all want to go.Every man among us who has the use of his limbs naturally wantsto go. But what is to become of those who have not got the use oftheir limbs? Some of us must stay here, and take care of thesick."

Everybody admitted that this was true.

"So we get back again," said the captain, "to the oldquestion--Who among the able-bodied is to go? and who is to stay?Captain Ebsworth says, and I say, let chance decide it. Here aredice. The numbers run as high as twelve--double sixes. All whothrow under six, stay; all who throw over six, go. Officers ofthe _Wanderer_ and the _Sea-mew_, do you agree to that way ofmeeting the difficulty?"

All the officers agreed, with the one exception of Wardour, whostill kept silence.

"Men of the _Wanderer_ and _Sea-mew_, your officers agree to castlots. Do you agree too?"

The men agreed without a dissentient voice. Crayford handed thebox and the dice to Captain Helding.

"You throw first, sir. Under six, 'Stay.' Over six, 'Go.'"

Captain Helding cast the dice; the top of the cask serving for atable. He threw seven.

"Go," said Crayford. "I congratulate you, sir. Now for my ownchance." He cast the dice in his turn. Three!" Stay! Ah, well!well! if I can do my duty, and be of use to others, what does itmatter whether I go or stay? Wardour, you are next, in theabsence of your first lieutenant."

Wardour prepared to cast, without shaking the dice.

"Shake the box, man!" cried Crayford. "Give yourself a chance ofluck!"

Wardour persisted in letting the dice fall out carelessly, justas they lay in the box.

"Not I!" he muttered to himself. "I've done with luck." Sayingthose words, he threw down the empty box, and seated himself onthe nearest chest, without looking to see how the dice hadfallen.

Crayford examined them. "Six!" he exclaimed. "There! you have asecond chance, in spite of yourself. You are neither under norover--you throw again."

"Bah!" growled the Bear. "It's not worth the trouble of gettingup for. Somebody else throw for me." He suddenly looked at Frank."You! you have got what the women call a lucky face."

Frank appealed to Crayford. "Shall I?"

"Yes, if he wishes it," said Crayford.

Frank cast the dice. "Two! He stays! Wardour, I am sorry I havethrown against you."

"Go or stay," reiterated Wardour, "it's all one to me. You willbe luckier, young one, when you cast for yourself."

Frank cast for himself.

"Eight. Hurrah! I go!"

"What did I tell you?" said Wardour. "The chance was yours. Youhave thriven on my ill luck."

He rose, as he spoke, to leave the hut. Crayford stopped him.

"Have you anything particular to do, Richard?"

"What has anybody to do here?"

"Wait a little, then. I want to speak to you when this businessis over."

"Are you going to give me any more good advice?"

"Don't look at me in that sour way, Richard. I am going to askyou a question about something which concerns yourself."

Wardour yielded without a word more. He returned to his chest,and cynically composed himself to slumber. The casting of thelots went on rapidly among the officers and men. In anotherhalf-hour chance had decided the question of "Go" or "Stay" forall alike. The men left the hut. The officers entered the innerapartment for a last conference with the bed-ridden captain ofthe _Sea-mew_. Wardour and Crayford were left together, alone.