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Updated: June 27, 2025
It was observed that Aupic, André Vasling, and the Norwegians kept aloof, and did not mingle with the others; but, unbeknown to themselves, they were narrowly watched. This germ of dissension more than once aroused the fears of Louis Cornbutte and Penellan. About the 7th of December, twenty days after the discovery of the castaways, they perceived the bay where the "Jeune-Hardie" was lying.
"Pierre!" he cried. Pierre stood still as if stunned, and unconscious of what was going on around him. André Vasling looked at Pierre Nouquet's companion with anxiety mingled with a cruel joy, for he did not recognize Louis Cornbutte in him. "Pierre! it is I!" cried Penellan. "These are all your friends!" Pierre Nouquet recovered his senses, and fell into his old comrade's arms.
But neither Marie nor Jean Cornbutte had yet been able to wave their hands at the captain of the ship. "Faith! there's the first mate, André Vasling," cried Clerbaut. "And there's Fidèle Misonne, the carpenter," said another. "And our friend Penellan," said a third, saluting the sailor named.
Penellan appeared, loaded his pistol, and discharged it in the bear's ear; he roared; the pain made him relax his paws for a moment, and Louis, exhausted, fell motionless on the deck; but the bear, closing his paws tightly in a supreme agony, fell, dragging down the wretched Vasling, whose body was crushed under him. Penellan hurried to Louis Cornbutte's assistance.
Besides, I have full confidence in the aid of Heaven. You understand me, and will help me." "No!" said Penellan. "It is impossible, Marie. Who knows whither we shall drift, or what we must suffer? How many vigorous men have I seen lose their lives in these seas!" "Penellan," returned the young girl, "if you refuse me, I shall believe that you do not love me any longer."
The evening before the departure, just as they were about to take supper, Penellan was breaking up some empty casks for firewood, when he was suddenly suffocated by a thick smoke. At the same instant the snow-house was shaken as if by an earthquake. The party uttered a cry of terror, and Penellan hurried outside. It was entirely dark.
"Forward!" cried Penellan. They went on for half an hour in perfect silence, and perceived an elevation which seemed without doubt to be land. "It is Shannon Island," said Jean Cornbutte. A mile farther on they distinctly perceived smoke escaping from a snow-hut, closed by a wooden door. They shouted. Two men rushed out of the hut, and Penellan recognized one of them as Pierre Nouquet.
The expedition was thus formed: Marie, Jean Cornbutte, Penellan, André Vasling, Aupic, and Fidèle Misonne were to go. Alaine Turquiette remained in charge of the brig, and Gervique and Gradlin stayed behind with him.
Penellan prepared some boiling coffee, which gave them some strength, as well as Marie, who joined them in partaking of it. Louis Cornbutte approached his father's bedside; the old man was almost motionless, and his limbs were helpless from disease. He muttered some disconnected words, which carried grief to his son's heart. "Louis," said he, "I am dying. O, how I suffer! Save me!"
"Perhaps we are near our destination, then." "That is no reason," said André Vasling. "In these high latitudes and cold regions sounds may be heard to a great distance." "However that may be," replied Jean Cornbutte, "let us go forward, or we shall be frozen." "No!" cried Penellan. "Listen!" Some feeble sounds quite perceptible, however were heard. They seemed to be cries of distress.
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