I seized with one hand my faithful Conseil’s arm. “Is it you?” said I, “you?” “Myself,” answered Conseil; “and waiting master’s orders.” “That shock threw you as well as me into the sea?” “No; but being in my master’s service, I followed him.” The worthy fellow thought that was but natural. “And the frigate?” I asked. “The frigate?” replied Conseil, turning on his back; “I think that master had better not count too much on her.” “You think so?” “I say that, at the time I threw myself into the sea, I heard the men at the wheel say, ‘The screw and the rudder are broken.’” “Broken?” “Yes, broken by the monster’s teeth. It is the only injury the Abraham Lincoln has sustained. But it is a bad look out for us—she no longer answers her helm.” “Then we are lost!” “Perhaps so,” calmly answered Conseil. “However, we have still several hours before us, and one can do a good deal in some hours.” Conseil’s imperturbable coolness set me up again. I swam more vigorously; but, cramped by my clothes, which stuck to me like a leaden weight, I felt great difficulty in bearing up. Conseil saw this. “Will master let me make a slit?” said he; and, slipping an open knife under my clothes, he ripped them up from top to bottom very rapidly. Then he cleverly slipped them off me, while I swam for both of us.