TO Mrs. Saville, England

St. Petersburgh, Dec. 11th, 17-

You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings. I arrived here yesterday, and my first task is to assure my dear sister of my welfare and increasing confidence in the success of my undertaking.

I am already far north of London, and as I walk in the streets of Petersburgh, I feel a cold northern breeze play upon my cheeks, which braces my nerves and fills me with delight. Do you understand this feeling? This breeze, which has travelled from the regions towards which I am advancing, gives me a foretaste of those icy climes. Inspirited by this wind of promise, my daydreams become more fervent and vivid. I try in vain to be persuaded that the pole is the seat of frost and desolation; it ever presents itself to my imagination as the region of beauty and delight. There, Margaret, the sun is forever visible, its broad disk just skirting the horizon and diffusing a perpetual splendour. There—for with your leave, my sister, I will put some trust in preceding navigators—there snow and frost are banished; and, sailing over a calm sea, we may may be wafted to a land surpassing in wonders and in beauty every region hitherto discovered on the habitable globe. Its productions and features may be without example, as the phenomena of the heavenly bodies undoubtedly are in those undiscovered solitudes. What may not be expected in a country of eternal light? I may there discover the wondrous power which attracts the needle and may regulate a thousand celestial observations that require only this voyage to render their seeming eccentricities consistent forever. I shall satiate my ardent curiosity with the sight of a part of the world never before visited, and may tread a land never before imprinted by the foot of man. These are my enticements, and they are sufficient to conquer all fear of danger or death and to induce me to commence this laborious voyage with the joy a child feels when he embarks in a little boat, with his holiday mates, on an expedition of discovery up his native river. But supposing all these conjectures to be false, you cannot contest the inestimable benefit which I shall confer on all mankind, to the last generation, by discovering a passage near the pole to those countries, to reach which at present so many months are requisite; or by ascertaining the secret of the magnet, which, if at all possible, can only be effected by an undertaking such as mine.

These reflections have dispelled the agitation with which I began my letter, and I feel my heart glow with an enthusiasm which elevates me to heaven, for nothing contributes so much to tranquillize the mind as a steady purpose—a point on which the soul may fix its intellectual eye. This expedition has been the favourite dream of my early years. I have read with ardour the accounts of the various voyages which have been made in the prospect of arriving at the North Pacific Ocean through the seas which surround the pole. You may remember that a history of all the voyages made for purposes of discovery composed the whole of our good Uncle Thomas’ library. My education was neglected, yet I was passionately fond of reading. These volumes were my study day and night, and my familiarity with them increased that regret which I had felt, as a child, on learning that my father’s dying injunction had forbidden my uncle to allow me to embark in a seafaring life.

‘Quite perfect,’ rejoined Fagin, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘You’re a genius, my dear.’

‘Why, I suppose if I wasn’t, I shouldn’t be here,’ replied Noah. ‘But, I say, she’ll be back if yer lose time.’

‘Now, what do you think?’ said Fagin. ‘If you was to like my friend, could you do better than join him?’

‘Is he in a good way of business; that’s where it is!’ responded Noah, winking one of his little eyes.

‘The top of the tree; employs a power of hands; has the very best society in the profession.’

‘Regular town–maders?’ asked Mr. Claypole.

‘Not a countryman among ’em; and I don’t think he’d take you, even on my recommendation, if he didn’t run rather short of assistants just now,’ replied Fagin.

‘Should I have to hand over?’ said Noah, slapping his breeches–pocket.

‘It couldn’t possibly be done without,’ replied Fagin, in a most decided manner.

‘Twenty pound, though—it’s a lot of money!’

‘Not when it’s in a note you can’t get rid of,’ retorted Fagin. ‘Number and date taken, I suppose? Payment stopped at the Bank? Ah! It’s not worth much to him. It’ll have to go abroad, and he couldn’t sell it for a great deal in the market.’

‘When could I see him?’ asked Noah doubtfully.

‘To–morrow morning.’

‘Where?’

‘Here.’

‘Um!’ said Noah. ‘What’s the wages?’

‘Live like a gentleman—board and lodging, pipes and spirits free—half of all you earn, and half of all the young woman earns,’ replied Mr. Fagin.

Whether Noah Claypole, whose rapacity was none of the least comprehensive, would have acceded even to these glowing terms, had he been a perfectly free agent, is very doubtful; but as he recollected that, in the event of his refusal, it was in the power of his new acquaintance to give him up to justice immediately (and more unlikely things had come to pass), he gradually relented, and said he thought that would suit him.

‘But, yer see,’ observed Noah, ‘as she will be able to do a good deal, I should like to take something very light.’

‘A little fancy work?’ suggested Fagin.

‘Ah! something of that sort,’ replied Noah. ‘What do you think would suit me now? Something not too trying for the strength, and not very dangerous, you know. That’s the sort of thing!’

‘I heard you talk of something in the spy way upon the others, my dear,’ said Fagin. ‘My friend wants somebody who would do that well, very much.’

‘Why, I did mention that, and I shouldn’t mind turning my hand to it sometimes,’ rejoined Mr. Claypole slowly; ‘but it wouldn’t pay by itself, you know.’