For several minutes he remained there examining the open space around, then seizing one of the backstays he glided down and rejoined us on the poop.
"No land in sight," he said, in answer to our eager looks of inquiry.
At this point Mr.Kear interposed, and in a gruff, ill-tempered tone, asked Curtis where we were.

Curtis replied that he did not know.
"You don't know, sir?
Then all I can say is that you ought to know!" exclaimed the petroleum merchant.
"That may be, sir; but at present I am as ignorant of our whereabouts as you are yourself," said Curtis.
"Well," said Mr.Kear, "just please to know that I don't want to stay for ever on your everlasting ship, so I beg you will make haste and start off again." Curtis condescended to make no other reply than a shrug of the shoulders, and turning away he informed M.Letourneur and myself that if the sun came out he intended to take its altitude and find out to what part of the ocean we had been driven.

His next care was to distribute preserved meat and biscuit amongst the passengers and crew already half fainting with hunger and fatigue, and then he set to work to devise measures for setting the ship afloat.
The conflagration was greatly abated; no flames now appeared, and although some black smoke still issued from the interior, yet its volume was far less than before.

The first step was to discover how much water had entered the hold.

The deck was still too hot to walk upon; but after two hours' irrigation the boards became sufficiently cool for the boatswain to proceed to take some soundings, and he shortly afterwards announced that there were five feet of water below.