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September 9th, the ice began to move, and roarings like thunder

were heard at a distance as the islands split and cracked in

every direction. We were in the most imminent peril, but as we

could only remain passive, my chief attention was occupied by my

unfortunate guest whose illness increased in such a degree that

he was entirely confined to his bed. The ice cracked behind us

and was driven with force towards the north; a breeze sprang from

the west, and on the 11th the passage towards the south became

perfectly free. When the sailors saw this and that their return

to their native country was apparently assured, a shout of

tumultuous joy broke from them, loud and long-continued.

Frankenstein, who was dozing, awoke and asked the cause of the

tumult. "They shout," I said, "because they will soon return to

England."

"Do you, then, really return?"

"Alas! Yes; I cannot withstand their demands. I cannot lead them

unwillingly to danger, and I must return."