Jules Verne

THE SURVIVORS OF THE CHANCELLOR
Diary of J. R. Kazallon, Passenger
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CHAPTER XLVIII.

JANUARY 19th.—All through the day the sky remained unclouded and the heat intense; and night came on without bringing much sensible moderation in the temperature. I was unable to get any sleep, and, towards morning, was disturbed by hearing an angry clamour going on outside the tent; it aroused M. Letourneur, Andre and Miss Herbey, as much as myself, and we were anxious to ascertain the cause of the tumult.

The boatswain, Dowlas, and all the sailors were storming at each other in frightful rage; and Curtis, who had come forward from the stern, was vainly endeavouring to pacify them.

“But who has done it? we must know who has done it,” said Dowlas, scowling with vindictive passion on the group around him.

“There’s a thief,” howled out the boatswain, “and he shall be found! Let’s know who has taken it.”

“I haven’t taken it!” “Nor I!” “Nor I!” cried the sailors one after another.

And then they set to work again to ransack every quarter of the raft; they rolled every spar aside, they overturned everything on board, and only grew more and more incensed with anger as their search proved fruitless.

“Can YOU tell us,” said the boatswain, coming up to me, “who is the thief?”

“Thief!” I replied. “I don’t know what you mean.”

And while we were speaking the others all came up together, and told me that they had looked everywhere else, and that they were going now to search the tent.

“Shame!” I said. “You ought to allow those whom you know to he dying of hunger at least to die in peace. There is not one of us who has left the tent all night. Why suspect us?”

“Now just look here, Mr. Kazallon,” said the boatswain, in a voice which he was endeavouring to calm down (...)

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