To reach the bottom was evidently completely out of their power; and what was infinitely worse, there was nothing to be gained by reaching it.

The Projectile was not on the bottom; it could not even have got to the bottom.

Marston said it all in a few words to the Captain, as the Clubmen stepped on deck a few hours later: "Barbican is floating midway in the depths of the Pacific, like Mahomet in his coffin!" Blindly yielding, however, to the melancholy hope that is born of despair, Marston and his friends renewed the search next day, the 30th, but they were all too worn out with watching and excitement to be able to continue it longer than a few hours.

After a night's rest, it was renewed the day following, the 31st, with some vigor, and a good part of the ocean lying between Guadalupe and Benito islands was carefully investigated to a depth of seven or eight hundred feet.

No traces whatever of the Projectile.