There have been then, twenty-seven since that." "But at that period what distance were we from the coast ?" asked Mrs.
Weldon.
"About four thousand five hundred miles, Mrs.Weldon.If there are things about which I have more than a doubt, I can at least guarantee this figure within about twenty miles." "And what has been the ship's speed ?" "On an average, a hundred and eighty miles a day since the wind freshened," replied the novice.

"So, I am surprised at not being in sight of land.

And, what is still more extraordinary, is that we do not meet even a single one of those vessels which generally frequent these parts!" "Could you not be deceived, Dick," returned Mrs.Weldon, "in estimating the 'Pilgrim's' speed ?" "No, Mrs.Weldon.On that point I could not be mistaken.

The log has been thrown every half hour, and I have taken its indications very accurately.

Wait, I am going to have it thrown anew, and you will see that we are sailing at this moment at the rate of ten miles an hour, which would give us more than two hundred miles a day." Dick Sand called Tom, and gave him the order to throw the log, an operation to which the old black was now quite accustomed.
The log, firmly fastened to the end of the line, was brought and sent out.
Twenty-five fathoms were hardly unrolled, when the rope suddenly slackened between Tom's hands.
"Ah! Mr.Dick!" cried he.
"Well, Tom ?" "The rope has broken!" "Broken!" cried Dick Sand.