Raleigh. He had not telegraphed before because he knew that Mr.
Clewe would communicate fully before he left Cape Tariff.

Margaret Raleigh had gone to bed late, and had been lying for an
hour or two unable to sleep, so busy was her mind with the
wonderful things which were happening in the far-away polar
regions--strange and awful things--in which she had such a direct
and lively interest. She had heard, from Roland Clewe, of the
successful beginning of the Dipsey's voyage, and before she had
gone to her chamber she had received a last message from him on
leaving Cape Tariff; and now, as she lay there in her bed, her
whole soul was occupied with thoughts of that little party of
people--some of them so well known to her--all of them sent out
upon this perilous and frightful expedition by her consent and
assistance, and now left alone to work their way through the dread
and silent waters that underlie the awful ice regions of the pole.
She felt that so long as she had a mind she could not help thinking
of them, and so long as she thought of them she could not sleep.

Suddenly there was a ring at the door, which made her start and
spring from her bed, and shortly a telegraphic message was
brought to her by a maid. It was from the depths of the Arctic
Ocean, and read as follows:

"Getting on very well. No motion. Not cold. Slight rheumatism
in Sarah's shoulder. Wants to know which side of plasters you
gave her goes next skin,

"SAMUEL BLOCK."