The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne

Nothing could be more rudimentary. The wool was placed in troughs, and
upon it fell in turns heavy wooden mallets; such was the machine in
question, and such it had been for centuries until the time when the
mallets were replaced by cylinders of compression, and the material was no
longer subjected to beating, but to regular rolling.

The operation, ably directed by Cyrus Harding, was a complete success.
The wool, previously impregnated with a solution of soap, intended on the
one hand to facilitate the interlacing, the compression, and the softening
of the wool, and on the other to prevent its diminution by the beating,
issued from the mill in the shape of thick felt cloth. The roughnesses with
which the staple of wool is naturally filled were so thoroughly entangled
and interlaced together that a material was formed equally suitable either
for garments or bedclothes. It was certainly neither merino, muslin,
cashmere, rep, satin, alpaca, cloth, nor flannel. It was "Lincolnian felt,"
and Lincoln Island possessed yet another manufacture. The colonists had now
warm garments and thick bedclothes, and they could without fear await the
approach of the winter of 1866-67.

The severe cold began to be felt about the 20th of June, and, to his
great regret, Pencroft was obliged to suspend his boat-building, which he
hoped to finish in time for next spring.

The sailor's great idea was to make a voyage of discovery to Tabor
Island, although Harding could not approve of a voyage simply for
curiosity's sake, for there was evidently nothing to be found on this
desert and almost arid rock. A voyage of a hundred and fifty miles in a
comparatively small vessel, over unknown seas, could not but cause him some
anxiety. Suppose that their vessel, once out at sea, should be unable to
reach Tabor Island, and could not return to Lincoln Island, what would
become of her in the midst of the Pacific, so fruitful of disasters?

Harding often talked over this project with Pencroft, and he found him
strangely bent upon undertaking this voyage, for which determination he
himself could give no sufficient reason.

"Now," said the engineer one day to him, "I must observe, my friend, that
after having said so much, in praise of Lincoln Island, after having spoken
so often of the sorrow you would feel if you were obliged to forsake it,
you are the first to wish to leave it."

"Only to leave it for a few days," replied Pencroft, "only for a few
days, captain. Time to go and come back, and see what that islet is like!"

"But it is not nearly as good as Lincoln Island."

"I know that beforehand."

"Then why venture there?"

"To know what is going on in Tabor Island."

"But nothing is going on there; nothing could happen there."

"Who knows?"

"And if you are caught in a hurricane?"

"There is no fear of that in the fine season," replied Pencroft. "But,
captain, as we must provide against everything, I shall ask your permission
to take Herbert only with me on this voyage."

"Pencroft," replied the engineer, placing his hand on the sailor's
shoulder, "if any misfortune happens to you, or to this lad, whom chance
has made our child, do you think we could ever cease to blame ourselves?"

"Captain Harding," replied Pencroft, with unshaken confidence, "we shall
not cause you that sorrow. Besides, we will speak further of this voyage,
when the time comes to make it. And I fancy, when you have seen our tight-
rigged little craft, when you have observed how she behaves at sea, when we
sail round our island, for we will do so together--I fancy, I say, that you
will no longer hesitate to let me go. I don't conceal from you that your
boat will be a masterpiece."

"Say 'our' boat, at least, Pencroft," replied the engineer, disarmed for
the moment. The conversation ended thus, to be resumed later on, without
convincing either the sailor or the engineer.

The first snow fell towards the end of the month of June. The corral had
previously been largely supplied with stores, so that daily visits to it
were not requisite; but it was decided that more than a week should never
be allowed to pass without someone going to it.

Traps were again set, and the machines manufactured by Harding were
tried. The bent whalebones, imprisoned in a case of ice, and covered with a
thick outer layer of fat, were placed on the border of the forest at a spot
where animals usually passed on their way to the lake.

To the engineer's great satisfaction, this invention, copied from the
Aleutian fishermen, succeeded perfectly. A dozen foxes, a few wild boars,
and even a jaguar, were taken in this way, the animals being found dead,
their stomachs pierced by the unbent bones.

An incident must here be related, not only as interesting in itself, but
because it was the first attempt made by the colonists to communicate with
the rest of mankind.

Gideon Spilett had already several times pondered whether to throw into
the sea a letter enclosed in a bottle, which currents might perhaps carry
to an inhabited coast, or to confide it to pigeons.

But how could it be seriously hoped that either pigeons or bottles could
cross the distance of twelve hundred miles which separated the island from
any inhabited land? It would have been pure folly.

But on the 30th of June the capture was effected, not without difficulty,
of an albatross, which a shot from Herbert's gun had slightly wounded in
the foot. It was a magnificent bird, measuring ten feet from wing to wing,
and which could traverse seas as wide as the Pacific.

Herbert would have liked to keep this superb bird, as its wound would
soon heal, and he thought he could tame it; but Spilett explained to him
that they should not neglect this opportunity of attempting to communicate
by this messenger with the lands of the Pacific; for if the albatross had
come from some inhabited region, there was no doubt but that it would
return there so soon as it was set free.

Perhaps in his heart Gideon Spilett, in whom the journalist sometimes
came to the surface, was not sorry to have the opportunity of sending forth
to take its chance an exciting article relating the adventures of the
settlers in Lincoln Island. What a success for the authorized reporter of
the New York Herald, and for the number which should contain the article,
if it should ever reach the address of its editor, the Honorable James
Bennett!

Gideon Spilett then wrote out a concise account, which was placed in a
strong waterproof bag, with an earnest request to whoever might find it to
forward it to the office of the New York Herald. This little bag was
fastened to the neck of the albatross, and not to its foot, for these birds
are in the habit of resting on the surface of the sea; then liberty was
given to this swift courier of the air, and it was not without some emotion
that the colonists watched it disappear in the misty west.

"Where is he going to?" asked Pencroft.

"Towards New Zealand," replied Herbert.

"A good voyage to you," shouted the sailor, who himself did not expect
any great result from this mode of correspondence.

With the winter, work had been resumed in the interior of Granite House,
mending clothes and different occupations, among others making the sails
for their vessel, which were cut from the inexhaustible balloon-case.

During the month of July the cold was intense, but there was no lack of
either wood or coal. Cyrus Harding had established a second fireplace in
the dining-room, and there the long winter evenings were spent. Talking
while they worked, reading when the hands remained idle, the time passed
with profit to all.

It was real enjoyment to the settlers when in their room, well lighted
with candles, well warmed with coal, after a good dinner, elderberry coffee
smoking in the cups, the pipes giving forth an odoriferous smoke, they
could hear the storm howling without. Their comfort would have been
complete, if complete comfort could ever exist for those who are far from
their fellow-creatures, and without any means of communication with them.
They often talked of their country, of the friends whom they had left, of
the grandeur of the American Republic, whose influence could not but
increase; and Cyrus Harding, who had been much mixed up with the affairs of
the Union, greatly interested his auditors by his recitals, his views, and
his prognostics.

It chanced one day that Spilett was led to say--

"But now, my dear Cyrus, all this industrial and commercial movement to
which you predict a continual advance, does it not run the danger of being
sooner or later completely stopped?"

"Stopped! And by what?"

"By the want of coal, which may justly be called the most precious of
minerals."

"Yes, the most precious indeed," replied the engineer; "and it would seem
that nature wished to prove that it was so by making the diamond, which is
simply pure carbon crystallized."

"You don't mean to say, captain," interrupted Pencroft, "that we burn
diamonds in our stoves in the shape of coal?"

"No, my friend," replied Harding.

"However," resumed Gideon Spilett, "you do not deny that some day the
coal will be entirely consumed?"

"Oh! the veins of coal are still considerable, and the hundred thousand
miners who annually extract from them a hundred millions of hundredweights
have not nearly exhausted them."

"With the increasing consumption of coal," replied Gideon Spilett, "it
can be foreseen that the hundred thousand workmen will soon become two
hundred thousand, and that the rate of extraction will be doubled."

"Doubtless; but after the European mines, which will be soon worked more
thoroughly with new machines, the American and Australian mines will for a
long time yet provide for the consumption in trade."

"For how long a time?" asked the reporter.

"For at least two hundred and fifty or three hundred years."

"That is reassuring for us, but a bad look-out for our great-
grandchildren!" observed Pencroft.

"They will discover something else," said Herbert.

"It is to be hoped so," answered Spilett, "for without coal there would be
no machinery, and without machinery there would be no railways, no
steamers, no manufactories, nothing of that which is indispensable to
modern civilization!"

"But what will they find?" asked Pencroft. "Can you guess, captain?"

"Nearly, my friend."

"And what will they burn instead of coal?"

"Water," replied Harding.

"Water!" cried Pencroft, "water as fuel for steamers and engines! water
to heat water!"

"Yes, but water decomposed into its primitive elements," replied Cyrus
Harding, "and decomposed doubtless, by electricity, which will then have
become a powerful and manageable force, for all great discoveries, by some
inexplicable laws, appear to agree and become complete at the same time.
Yes, my friends, I believe that water will one day be employed as fuel,
that hydrogen and oxygen which constitute it, used singly or together, will
furnish an inexhaustible source of heat and light, of an intensity of which
coal is not capable. Some day the coalrooms of steamers and the tenders of
locomotives will, instead of coal, be stored with these two condensed
gases, which will burn in the furnaces with enormous calorific power. There
is, therefore, nothing to fear. As long as the earth is inhabited it will
supply the wants of its inhabitants, and there will be no want of either
light or heat as long as the productions of the vegetable, mineral or
animal kingdoms do not fail us. I believe, then, that when the deposits of
coal are exhausted we shall heat and warm ourselves with water. Water will
be the coal of the future."

"I should like to see that," observed the sailor.

"You were born too soon, Pencroft," returned Neb, who only took part in
the discussion by these words.

However, it was not Neb's speech which interrupted the conversation, but
Top's barking, which broke out again with that strange intonation which had
before perplexed the engineer. At the same time Top began to run round the
mouth of the well, which opened at the extremity of the interior passage.

"What can Top be barking in that way for?" asked Pencroft.

"And Jup be growling like that?" added Herbert.

In fact the orang, joining the dog, gave unequivocal signs of agitation,
and, singular to say, the two animals appeared more uneasy than angry.

"It is evident," said Gideon Spilett, "that this well is in direct
communication with the sea, and that some marine animal comes from time to
time to breathe at the bottom."

"That's evident," replied the sailor, "and there can be no other
explanation to give. Quiet there, Top!" added Pencroft, turning to the dog,
"and you, Jup, be off to your room!"

The ape and the dog were silent. Jup went off to bed, but Top remained in
the room, and continued to utter low growls at intervals during the rest of
the evening. There was no further talk on the subject, but the incident,
however, clouded the brow of the engineer.

During the remainder of the month of July there was alternate rain and
frost. The temperature was not so low as during the preceding winter, and
its maximum did not exceed eight degrees Fahrenheit. But although this
winter was less cold, it was more troubled by storms and squalls; the sea
besides often endangered the safety of the Chimneys. At times it almost
seemed as if an under-current raised these monstrous billows which
thundered against the wall of Granite House.

When the settlers, leaning from their windows, gazed on the huge watery
masses breaking beneath their eyes, they could not but admire the
magnificent spectacle of the ocean in its impotent fury. The waves
rebounded in dazzling foam, the beach entirely disapppearing under the
raging flood, and the cliff appearing to emerge from the sea itself, the
spray rising to a height of more than a hundred feet.

During these storms it was difficult and even dangerous to venture out,
owing to the frequently falling trees; however, the colonists never allowed
a week to pass without having paid a visit to the corral. Happily, this
enclosure, sheltered by the southeastern spur of Mount Franklin, did not
greatly suffer from the violence of the hurricanes, which spared its trees,
sheds, and palisades; but the poultry-yard on Prospect Heights, being
directly exposed to the gusts of wind from the east, suffered considerable
damage. The pigeon-house was twice unroofed and the paling blown down. All
this required to be remade more solidly than before, for, as may be clearly
seen, Lincoln Island was situated in one of the most dangerous parts of the
Pacific. It really appeared as if it formed the central point of vast
cyclones, which beat it perpetually as the whip does the top, only here it
was the top which was motionless and the whip which moved. During the first
week of the month of August the weather became more moderate, and the
atmosphere recovered the calm which it appeared to have lost forever. With
the calm the cold again became intense, and the thermometer fell to eight
degrees Fahrenheit, below zero.

On the 3rd of August an excursion which had been talked of for several
days was made into the southeastern part of the island, towards Tadorn
Marsh. The hunters were tempted by the aquatic game which took up their
winter quarters there. Wild duck, snipe, teal and grebe abounded there, and
it was agreed that a day should be devoted to an expedition against these
birds.

Not only Gideon Spilett and Herbert, but Pencroft and Neb also took part
in this excursion. Cyrus Harding alone, alleging some work as an excuse,
did not join them, but remained at Granite House.

The hunters proceeded in the direction of Port Balloon, in order to reach
the marsh, after having promised to be back by the evening. Top and Jup
accompanied them. As soon as they had passed over the Mercy Bridge, the
engineer raised it and returned, intending to put into execution a project
for the performance of which he wished to be alone.

Now this project was to minutely explore the interior well, the mouth of
which was on a level with the passage of Granite House, and which
communicated with the sea, since it formerly supplied a way to the waters
of the lake.

Why did Top so often run round this opening? Why did he utter such
strange barks when a sort of uneasiness seemed to draw him towards this
well? Why did Jup join Top in a sort of common anxiety? Had this well
branches besides the communication with the sea? Did it spread towards
other parts of the island? This is what Cyrus Harding wished to know. He
had resolved, therefore, to attempt the exploration of the well during the
absence of his companions, and an opportunity for doing so had now
presented itself.

It was easy to descend to the bottom of the well by employing the rope
ladder which had not been used since the establishment of the lift. The
engineer drew the ladder to the hole, the diameter of which measured nearly
six feet, and allowed it to unroll itself after having securely fastened
its upper extremity. Then, having lighted a lantern, taken a revolver, and
placed a cutlass in his belt, he began the descent.

The sides were everywhere entire; but points of rock jutted out here and
there, and by means of these points it would have been quite possible for
an active creature to climb to the mouth of the well.

The engineer remarked this; but although he carefully examined these
points by the light of his lantern, he could find no impression, no
fracture which could give any reason to suppose that they had either
recently or at any former time been used as a staircase. Cyrus Harding
descended deeper, throwing the light of his lantern on all sides.

He saw nothing suspicious.

When the engineer had reached the last rounds he came upon the water,
which was then perfectly calm. Neither at its level nor in any other part
of the well, did any passage open, which could lead to the interior of the
cliff. The wall which Harding struck with the hilt of his cutlass sounded
solid. It was compact granite, through which no living being could force a
way. To arrive at the bottom of the well and then climb up to its mouth it
was necessary to pass through the channel under the rocky subsoil of the
beach, which placed it in communication with the sea, and this was only
possible for marine animals. As to the question of knowing where this
channel ended, at what point of the shore, and at what depth beneath the
water, it could not be answered.

Then Cyrus Harding, having ended his survey, re-ascended, drew up the
ladder, covered the mouth of the well, and returned thoughtfully to the
diningroom, saying to himself,--

"I have seen nothing, and yet there is something there!"

Chapter 12

In the evening the hunters returned, having enjoyed good sport, and being
literally loaded with game; indeed, they had as much as four men could
possibly carry. Top wore a necklace of teal and Jup wreaths of snipe round
his body.

"Here, master," cried Neb; "here's something to employ our time!
Preserved and made into pies we shall have a welcome store! But I must have
some one to help me. I count on you, Pencroft."

"No, Neb," replied the sailor; "I have the rigging of the vessel to
finish and to look after, and you will have to do without me."

"And you, Mr. Herbert?"

"I must go to the corral to-morrow, Neb," replied the lad.

"It will be you then, Mr. Spilett, who will help me?"

"To oblige you, Neb, I will," replied the reporter; "but I warn you that
if you disclose your receipts to me, I shall publish them."

"Whenever you like, Mr. Spilett," replied Neb; "whenever you like."

And so the next day Gideon Spilett became Neb's assistant and was
installed in his culinary laboratory. The engineer had previously made
known to him the result of the exploration which he had made the day
before, and on this point the reporter shared Harding's opinion, that
although he had found nothing, a secret still remained to be discovered!

The frost continued for another week, and the settlers did not leave
Granite House unless to look after the poultry-yard. The dwelling was
filled with appetizing odors, which were emitted from the learned
manipulation of Neb and the reporter. But all the results of the chase were
not made into preserved provisions; and as the game kept perfectly in the
intense cold, wild duck and other fowl were eaten fresh, and declared
superior to all other aquatic birds in the known world.

During this week, Pencroft, aided by Herbert, who handled the sailmaker's
needle with much skill, worked with such energy that the sails of the
vessel were finished. There was no want of cordage. Thanks to the rigging
which had been discovered with the case of the balloon, the ropes and
cables from the net were all of good quality, and the sailor turned them
all to account. To the sails were attached strong bolt ropes, and there
still remained enough from which to make the halyards, shrouds, and sheets,
etc. The blocks were manufactured by Cyrus Harding under Pencroft's
directions by means of the turning lathe. It therefore happened that the
rigging was entirely prepared before the vessel was finished. Pencroft also
manufactured a flag, that flag so dear to every true American, containing
the stars and stripes of their glorious Union. The colors for it were
supplied from certain plants used in dyeing, and which were very abundant
in the island; only to the thirty-seven stars, representing the thirty-
seven States of the Union, which shine on the American flag, the sailor
added a thirty-eighth, the star of "the State of Lincoln," for he
considered his island as already united to the great republic. "And," said
he, "it is so already in heart, if not in deed!"

In the meantime, the flag was hoisted at the central window of Granite
House, and the settlers saluted it with three cheers.

The cold season was now almost at an end, and it appeared as if this
second winter was to pass without any unusual occurrence, when on the night
of the 11th of August, the plateau of Prospect Heights was menaced with
complete destruction.

After a busy day the colonists were sleeping soundly, when towards four
o'clock in the morning they were suddenly awakened by Top's barking.

The dog was not this time barking near the mouth of the well, but at the
threshold of the door, at which he was scratching as if he wished to burst
it open. Jup was also uttering piercing cries.

"Hello, Top!" cried Neb, who was the first awake. But the dog continued
to bark more furiously than ever.

"What's the matter now?" asked Harding.

And all dressing in haste rushed to the windows, which they opened.

Beneath their eyes was spread a sheet of snow which looked gray in the
dim light. The settlers could see nothing, but they heard a singular
yelping noise away in the darkness. It was evident that the beach had been
invaded by a number of animals which could not be seen.

"What are they?" cried Pencroft.

"Wolves, jaguars, or apes?" replied Neb.

"They have nearly reached the plateau," said the reporter.

"And our poultry-yard," exclaimed Herbert, "and our garden!"

"Where can they have crossed?" asked Pencroft.

"They must have crossed the bridge on the shore," replied the engineer,
"which one of us must have forgotten to close."

"True," said Spilett, "I remember having left it open."

"A fine job you have made of it, Mr. Spilett," cried the sailor.

"What is done cannot be undone," replied Cyrus Harding. "We must consult
what it will now be best to do."

Such were the questions and answers which were rapidly exchanged between
Harding and his companions. It was certain that the bridge had been
crossed, that the shore had been invaded by animals, and that whatever they
might be they could by ascending the left bank of the Mercy reach Prospect
Heights. They must therefore be advanced against quickly and fought with if
necessary.

"But what are these beasts?" was asked a second time, as the yelpings
were again heard more loudly than before. These yelps made Herbert start,
and he remembered having heard them before during his first visit to the
sources of the Red Creek.

"They are colpeo foxes!" he exclaimed.

"Forward!" shouted the sailor.

And all arming themselves with hatchets, carbines, and revolvers, threw
themselves into the lift and soon set foot on the shore.

Colpeos are dangerous animals when in great numbers and irritated by
hunger, nevertheless the colonists did not hesitate to throw themselves
into the midst of the troop, and their first shots vividly lighting up the
darkness made their assailants draw back.

The chief thing was to hinder these plunderers from reaching the plateau,
for the garden and the poultry-yard would then have been at their mercy,
and immense, perhaps irreparable mischief, would inevitably be the result,
especially with regard to the corn-field. But as the invasion of the
plateau could only be made by the left bank of the Mercy, it was sufficient
to oppose the colpeos on the narrow bank between the river and the cliff of
granite.

This was plain to all, and, by Cyrus Harding's orders, they reached the
spot indicated by him, while the colpeos rushed fiercely through the gloom.
Harding, Gideon Spilett, Herbert, Pencroft and Neb posted themselves in
impregnable line. Top, his formidable jaws open, preceded the colonists,
and he was followed by Jup, armed with knotty cudgel, which he brandished
like a club.

The night was extremely dark, it was only by the flashes from the
revolvers as each person fired that they could see their assailants, who
were at least a hundred in number, and whose eyes were glowing like hot
coals.

"They must not pass!" shouted Pencroft.

"They shall not pass!" returned the engineer.

But if they did not pass it was not for want of having attempted it.
Those in the rear pushed on the foremost assailants, and it was an
incessant struggle with revolvers and hatchets. Several colpeos already lay
dead on the ground, but their number did not appear to diminish, and it
might have been supposed that reinforcements were continually arriving over
the bridge.

The colonists were soon obliged to fight at close quarters, not without
receiving some wounds, though happily very slight ones. Herbert had, with a
shot from his revolver, rescued Neb, on whose back a colpeo had sprung like
a tiger cat. Top fought with actual fury, flying at the throats of the
foxes and strangling them instantaneously. Jup wielded his weapon
valiantly, and it was in vain that they endeavored to keep him in the rear.
Endowed doubtless with sight which enabled him to pierce the obscurity, he
was always in the thick of the fight uttering from time to time--a sharp
hissing sound, which was with him the sign of great rejoicing.

At one moment he advanced so far, that by the light from a revolver he
was seen surrounded by five or six large colpeos, with whom he was coping
with great coolness.

However, the struggle was ended at last, and victory was on the side of
the settlers, but not until they had fought for two long hours! The first
signs of the approach of day doubtless determined the retreat of their
assailants, who scampered away towards the North, passing over the bridge,
which Neb ran immediately to raise. When day had sufficiently lighted up
the field of battle, the settlers counted as many as fifty dead bodies
scattered about on the shore.

"And Jup!" cried Pencroft; "where is Jup?" Jup had disappeared. His
friend Neb called him, and for the first time Jup did not reply to his
friend's call.

Everyone set out in search of Jup, trembling lest he should be found
among the slain; they cleared the place of the bodies which stained the
snow with their blood. Jup was found in the midst of a heap of colpeos
whose broken jaws and crushed bodies showed that they had to do with the
terrible club of the intrepid animal.

Poor Jup still held in his hand the stump of his broken cudgel, but
deprived of his weapon he had been overpowered by numbers, and his chest
was covered with severe wounds.

"He is living," cried Neb, who was bending over him.

"And we will save him," replied the sailor. "We will nurse him as if he
was one of ourselves."

It appeared as if Jup understood, for he leaned his head on Pencroft's
shoulder as if to thank him. The sailor was wounded himself, but his wound
was insignificant, as were those of his companions; for thanks to their
firearms they had been almost always able to keep their assailants at a
distance. it was therefore only the orang whose condition was serious.

Jup, carried by Neb and Pencroft, was placed in the lift, and only a
slight moan now and then escaped his lips. He was gently drawn up to
Granite House. There he was laid on a mattress taken from one of the beds,
and his wounds were bathed with the greatest care. It did not appear that
any vital part had been reached, but Jup was very weak from loss of blood,
and a high fever soon set in after his wounds had been dressed. He was laid
down, strict diet was imposed, "just like a real person," as Neb said, and
they made him swallow several cups of a cooling drink, for which the
ingredients were supplied from the vegetable medicine chest of Granite
House. Jup was at first restless, but his breathing gradually became more
regular, and he was left sleeping quietly. From time to time Top, walking
on tip-toe, as one might say, came to visit his friend, and seemed to
approve of all the care that had been taken of him. One of Jup's hands hung
over the side of his bed, and Top licked it with a sympathizing air.

They employed the day in interring the dead, who were dragged to the
forest of the Far West, and there buried deep.

This attack, which might have had such serious consequences, was a lesson
to the settlers, who from this time never went to bed until one of their
number had made sure that all the bridges were raised, and that no invasion
was possible.

However, Jup, after having given them serious anxiety for several days,
began to recover. His constitution brought him through, the fever gradually
subsided, and Gideon Spilett, who was a bit of a doctor, pronounced him
quite out of danger. On the 16th of August, Jup began to eat. Neb made him
nice little sweet dishes, which the invalid devoured with great relish, for
if he had a pet failing it was that of being somewhat of a gourmend, and
Neb had never done anything to cure him of this fault.

"What would you have?" said he to Gideon Spilett, who sometimes
expostulated with him for spoiling the ape. "Poor Jup has no other pleasure
than that of the palate, and I am only too glad to be able to reward his
services in this way!"

Ten days after taking to his bed, on the 21st of August, Master Jup
arose. His wounds were healed, and it was evident that he would not be long
in regaining his usual strength and agility. Like all convalescents, he was
tremendously hungry, and the reporter allowed him to eat as much as he
liked, for he trusted to that instinct, which is too often wanting in
reasoning beings, to keep the orang from any excess. Neb was delighted to
see his pupil's appetite returning.

"Eat away, my Jup," said he, "and don't spare anything; you have shed
your blood for us, and it is the least I can do to make you strong again!"

On the 25th of August Neb's voice was heard calling to his companions.

"Captain, Mr. Spilett, Mr. Herbert, Pencroft, come! come!"

The colonists, who were together in the dining-room, rose at Neb's call,
who was then in Jup's room.

"What's the matter?" asked the reporter.

"Look," replied Neb, with a shout of laughter. And what did they see?
Master Jup smoking calmly and seriously, sitting crosslegged like a Turk at
the entrance to Granite House!

"My pipe," cried Pencroft. "He has taken my pipe! Hello, my honest Jup, I
make you a present of it! Smoke away, old boy, smoke away!"

And Jup gravely puffed out clouds of smoke which seemed to give him great
satisfaction. Harding did not appear to be much astonished at this
incident, and he cited several examples of tame apes, to whom the use of
tobacco had become quite familiar.

But from this day Master Jup had a pipe of his own, the sailor's ex-pipe,
which was hung in his room near his store of tobacco. He filled it himself,
lighted it with a glowing coal, and appeared to be the happiest of
quadrumana. It may readily be understood that this similarity of tastes of
Jup and Pencroft served to tighten the bonds of friendship which already
existed between the honest ape and the worthy sailor.

"Perhaps he is really a man," said Pencroft sometimes to Neb. "Should you
be surprised to hear him beginning to speak to us some day?"

"My word, no," replied Neb. "What astonishes me is that he hasn't spoken
to us before, for now he wants nothing but speech!"

"It would amuse me all the same," resumed the sailor, "if some fine day
he said to me, "Suppose we change pipes, Pencroft."

"Yes," replied Neb, "what a pity he was born dumb!"

With the month of September the winter ended, and the works were again
eagerly commenced. The building of the vessel advanced rapidly, she was
already completely decked over, and all the inside parts of the hull were
firmly united with ribs bent by means of steam, which answered all the
purposes of a mold.

As there was no want of wood, Pencroft proposed to the engineer to give a
double lining to the hull, to insure the strength of the vessel.

Harding, not knowing what the future might have in store for them,
approved the sailor's idea of making the craft as strong as possible. The
interior and deck of the vessel was entirely finished towards the 15th of
September. For calking the seams they made oakum of dry seaweed, which was
hammered in between the planks; then these seams were covered with boiling
tar, which was obtained in great abundance from the pines in the forest.

The management of the vessel was very simple. She had from the first been
ballasted with heavy blocks of granite walled up, in a bed of lime, twelve
thousand pounds of which they stowed away.

A deck was placed over this ballast, and the interior was divided into
two cabins; two benches extended along them and served also as lockers. The
foot of the mast supported the partition which separated the two cabins,
which were reached by two hatchways let into the deck.

Pencroft had no trouble in finding a tree suitable for the mast. He chose
a straight young fir, with no knots, and which he had only to square at the
step, and round off at the top. The ironwork of the mast, the rudder and
the hull had been roughly but strongly forged at the Chimneys. Lastly,
yards, masts, boom, spars, oars, etc., were all furnished by the first week
in October, and it was agreed that a trial trip should be taken round the
island, so as to ascertain how the vessel would behave at sea, and how far
they might depend upon her.

During all this time the necessary works had not been neglected. The
corral was enlarged, for the flock of musmons and goats had been increased
by a number of young ones, who had to be housed and fed. The colonists had
paid visits also to the oyster bed, the warren, the coal and iron mines,
and to the till then unexplored districts of the Far West forest, which
abounded in game. Certain indigenous plants were discovered, and those fit
for immediate use contributed to vary the vegetable stores of Granite
House.

They were a species of ficoide, some similar to those of the Cape, with
eatable fleshy leaves, others bearing seeds containing a sort of flour.

On the 10th of October the vessel was launched. Pencroft was radiant with
joy, the operation was perfectly successful; the boat completely rigged,
having been pushed on rollers to the water's edge, was floated by the
rising tide, amid the cheers of the colonists, particularly of Pencroft,
who showed no modesty on this occasion. Besides his importance was to last
beyond the finishing of the vessel, since, after having built her, he was
to command her. The grade of captain was bestowed upon him with the
approbation of all. To satisfy Captain Pencroft, it was now necessary to
give a name to the vessel, and, after many propositions had been discussed,
the votes were all in favor of the "Bonadventure." As soon as the
"Bonadventure" had been lifted by the rising tide, it was seen that she lay
evenly in the water, and would be easily navigated. However, the trial trip
was to be made that very day, by an excursion off the coast. The weather
was fine, the breeze fresh, and the sea smooth, especially towards the
south coast, for the wind was blowing from the northwest.

"All hands on board," shouted Pencroft; but breakfast was first
necessary, and it was thought best to take provisions on board, in the
event of their excursion being prolonged until the evening.

Cyrus Harding was equally anxious to try the vessel, the model of which
had originated with him, although on the sailor's advice he had altered
some parts of it, but he did not share Pencroft's confidence in her, and as
the latter had not again spoken of the voyage to Tabor Island, Harding
hoped he had given it up. He would have indeed great reluctance in letting
two or three of his companions venture so far in so small a boat, which was
not of more than fifteen tons' burden.

At half-past ten everybody was on hoard, even Top and Jup, and Herbert
weighed the anchor, which was fast in the sand near the mouth of the Mercy.
The sail was hoisted, the Lincolnian flag floated from the masthead, and
the "Bonadventure," steered by Pencroft, stood out to sea.

The wind blowing out of Union Bay she ran before it, and thus showed her
owners, much to their satisfaction, that she possessed a remarkably fast
pair of heels, according to Pencroft's mode of speaking. After having
doubled Flotsam Point and Claw Cape, the captain kept her close hauled, so
as to sail along the southern coast of the island, when it was found she
sailed admirably within five points of the wind. All hands were enchanted,
they had a good vessel, which, in case of need, would be of great service
to them, and with fine weather and a fresh breeze the voyage promised to be
charming.

Pencroft now stood off the shore, three or four miles across from Port
Balloon. The island then appeared in all its extent and under a new aspect,
with the varied panorama of its shore from Claw Cape to Reptile End, the
forests in which dark firs contrasted with the young foliage of other
trees and overlooked the whole, and Mount Franklin whose lofty head was
still whitened with snow.

"How beautiful it is!" cried Herbert.

"Yes, our island is beautiful and good," replied Pencroft. "I love it as
I loved my poor mother. It received us poor and destitute, and now what is
wanting to us five fellows who fell on it from the sky?"

"Nothing," replied Neb; "nothing, captain."

And the two brave men gave three tremendous cheers in honor of their
island!

During all this time Gideon Spilett, leaning against the mast, sketched
the panorama which was developed before his eyes.

Cyrus Harding gazed on it in silence.

"Well, Captain Harding," asked Pencroft, "what do you think of our
vessel?"

"She appears to behave well," replied the engineer.

"Good! And do you think now that she could undertake a voyage of some
extent?"

"What voyage, Pencroft?"

"One to Tabor Island, for instance."

"My friend," replied Harding, "I think that in any pressing emergency we
need not hesitate to trust ourselves to the 'Bonadventure' even for a
longer voyage; but you know I should see you set off to Tabor Island with
great uneasiness, since nothing obliges you to go there."

"One likes to know one's neighbors," returned the sailor, who was
obstinate in his idea. "Tabor Island is our neighbor, and the only one!
Politeness requires us to go at least to pay a visit."

"By Jove," said Spilett, "our friend Pencroft has become very particular
about the proprieties all at once!"

"I am not particular about anything at all," retorted the sailor, who was
rather vexed by the engineer's opposition, but who did not wish to cause
him anxiety.

"Consider, Pencroft," resumed Harding, "you cannot go alone to Tabor
Island."

"One companion will be enough for me.

"Even so," replied the engineer, "you will risk depriving the colony of
Lincoln Island of two settlers out of five."

"Out of six," answered Pencroft; "you forget Jup."

"Out of seven," added Neb; "Top is quite worth another."

"There is no risk at all in it, captain," replied Pencroft.

"That is possible, Pencroft; but I repeat it is to expose ourselves
uselessly."

The obstinate sailor did not reply, and let the conversation drop, quite
determined to resume it again. But he did not suspect that an incident
would come to his aid and change into an act of humanity that which was at
first only a doubtful whim.

After standing off the shore the "Bonadventure" again approached it in
the direction of Port Balloon. It was important to ascertain the channels
between the sandbanks and reefs, that buoys might be laid down since this
little creek was to be the harbor.

They were not more than half a mile from the coast, and it was necessary
to tack to beat against the wind. The "Bonadventure" was then going at a
very moderate rate, as the breeze, partly intercepted by the high land,
scarcely swelled her sails, and the sea, smooth as glass, was only rippled
now and then by passing gusts.

Herbert had stationed himself in the bows that he might indicate the
course to be followed among the channels, when all at once he shouted,--

"Luff, Pencroft, luff!"

"What's the matter," replied the sailor; "a rock?"

"No--wait," said Herbert; "I don't quite see. Luff again--right--now."

So saying, Herbert, leaning over the side, plunged his arm into the
water, and pulled it out, exclaiming,--

"A bottle!"

He held in his hand a corked bottle which he had just seized a few
cables' length from the shore.

Cyrus Harding took the bottle. Without uttering a single word he drew the
cork, and took from it a damp paper, on which were written these words:--

"Castaway.... Tabor island: 153�W. long., 37� 11' S. lat."

Chapter 13

"A castaway!" exclaimed Pencroft; "left on this Tabor Island not two
hundred miles from us! Ah, Captain Harding, you won't now oppose my going."

"No, Pencroft," replied Cyrus Harding; "and you shall set out as soon as
possible."

"To-morrow?"

"To-morrow!"

The engineer still held in his hand the paper which he had taken from the
bottle. He contemplated it for some instants, then resumed,

"From this document, my friends, from the way in which it is worded, we
may conclude this: first, that the castaway on Tabor Island is a man
possessing a considerable knowledge of navigation, since he gives the
latitude and longitude of the island exactly as we ourselves found it, and
to a second of approximation; secondly, that he is either English or
American, as the document is written in the English language."

"That is perfectly logical," answered Spilett; "and the presence of this
castaway explains the arrival of the case on the shores of our island.
There must have been a wreck, since there is a castaway. As to the latter,
whoever he may be, it is lucky for him that Pencroft thought of building
this boat and of trying her this very day, for a day later and this bottle
might have been broken on the rocks."

"Indeed," said Herbert, "it is a fortunate chance that the 'Bonadventure'
passed exactly where the bottle was still floating!"

"Does not this appear strange to you?" asked Harding of Pencroft.

"It appears fortunate, that's all," answered the sailor. "Do you see
anything extraordinary in it, captain? The bottle must go somewhere, and
why not here as well as anywhere else?"

"Perhaps you are right, Pencroft," replied the engineer; "and yet--"

"But," observed Herbert, "there's nothing to prove that this bottle has
been floating long in the sea."

"Nothing," replied Gideon Spilett, "and the document appears even to have
been recently written. What do you think about it, Cyrus?"

During this conversation Pencroft had not remained inactive. He had put
the vessel about, and the "Bonadventure," all sails set, was running
rapidly towards Claw Cape.

Every one was thinking of the castaway on Tabor Island. Should they be in
time to save him? This was a great event in the life of the colonists! They
themselves were but castaways, but it was to be feared that another might
not have been so fortunate, and their duty was to go to his succor.

Claw Cape was doubled, and about four o'clock the "Bonadventure" dropped
her anchor at the mouth of the Mercy.

That same evening the arrangements for the new expedition were made. It
appeared best that Pencroft and Herbert, who knew how to work the vessel,
should undertake the voyage alone. By setting out the next day, the 10th of
October, they would arrive on the 13th, for with the present wind it would
not take more than forty-eight hours to make this passage of a hundred and
fifty miles. One day in the island, three or four to return, they might
hope therefore that on the 17th they would again reach Lincoln Island. The
weather was fine, the barometer was rising, the wind appeared settled,
everything then was in favor of these brave men whom an act of humanity was
taking far from their island.

Thus it had been agreed that Cyrus Harding, Neb, and Gideon Spilett should
remain at Granite House, but an objection was raised, and Spilett, who had
not forgotten his business as reporter to the New York Herald, having
declared that he would go by swimming rather than lose such an opportunity,
he was admitted to take a part in the voyage.

The evening was occupied in transporting on board the "Bonadventure,"
articles of bedding, utensils, arms, ammunition, a compass, provisions for
a week; this being rapidly done, the colonists ascended to Granite House.

The next day, at five o'clock in the morning, the farewells were said,
not without some emotion on both sides, and Pencroft setting sail made
towards Claw Cape, which had to be doubled in order to proceed to the
southwest.

The "Bonadventure" was already a quarter of a mile from the coast when
the passengers perceived on the heights of Granite House two men waving
their farewells; they were Cyrus Harding and Neb.

"Our friends," exclaimed Spilett, "this is our first separation in
fifteen months."

Pencroft, the reporter and Herbert waved in return, and Granite House
soon disappeared behind the high rocks of the Cape.

During the first part of the day the "Bonadventure" was still in sight of
the southern coast of Lincoln Island, which soon appeared just like a green
basket, with Mount Franklin rising from the center. The heights, diminished
by distance, did not present an appearance likely to tempt vessels to touch
there. Reptile End was passed in about an hour, though at a distance of
about ten miles.

At this distance it was no longer possible to distinguish anything of the
Western Coast, which stretched away to the ridges of Mount Franklin, and
three hours after the last of Lincoln Island sank below the horizon.

The "Bonadventure" behaved capitally. Bounding over the waves she
proceeded rapidly on her course. Pencroft had hoisted the foresail, and
steering by the compass followed a rectilinear direction. From time to time
Herbert relieved him at the helm, and the lad's hand was so firm that the
sailor had not a point to find fault with.

Gideon Spilett chatted sometimes with one, sometimes with the other, if
wanted he lent a hand with the ropes, and Captain Pencroft was perfectly
satisfied with his crew.

In the evening the crescent moon, which would not be in its first quarter
until the 16th, appeared in the twilight and soon set again. The night was
dark but starry, and the next day again promised to be fine.

Pencroft prudently lowered the foresail, not wishing to be caught by a
sudden gust while carrying too much canvas; it was perhaps an unnecessary
precaution on such a calm night, but Pencroft was a prudent sailor and
cannot be blamed for it.

The reporter slept part of the night. Pencroft and Herbert took turns for
a spell of two hours each at the helm. The sailor trusted Herbert as he
would himself, and his confidence was justified by the coolness and
judgment of the lad. Pencroft gave him his directions as a commander to his
steersman, and Herbert never allowed the "Bonadventure" to swerve even a
point. The night passed quickly, as did the day of the 12th of October. A
south-easterly direction was strictly maintained. Unless the "Bonadventure"
fell in with some unknown current she would come exactly within sight of
Tabor Island.

As to the sea over which the vessel was then sailing, it was absolutely
deserted. Now and then a great albatross or frigate bird passed within
gunshot, and Gideon Spilett wondered if it was to one of them that he had
confided his last letter addressed to the New York Herald. These birds were
the only beings that appeared to frequent this part of the ocean between
Tabor and Lincoln Islands.

"And yet," observed Herbert, "this is the time that whalers usually
proceed towards the southern part of the Pacific. Indeed I do not think
there could be a more deserted sea than this."

"It is not quite so deserted as all that," replied Pencroft.

"What do you mean?" asked the reporter.

"We are on it. Do you take our vessel for a wreck and us for porpoises?"

And Pencroft laughed at his joke.

By the evening, according to calculation, it was thought that the
"Bonadventure" had accomplished a distance of a hundred and twenty miles
since her departure from Lincoln Island, that is to say in thirty-six
hours, which would give her a speed of between three and four knots an
hour. The breeze was very slight and might soon drop altogether. However,
it was hoped that the next morning by break of day, if the calculation had
been correct and the course true, they would sight Tabor Island.

Neither Gideon Spilett, Herbert, nor Pencroft slept that night. In the
expectation of the next day they could not but feel some emotion. There was
so much uncertainty in their enterprise! Were they near Tabor Island? Was
the island still inhabited by the castaway to whose succor they had come?
Who was this man? Would not his presence disturb the little colony till
then so united? Besides, would he be content to exchange his prison for
another? All these questions, which would no doubt be answered the next
day, kept them in suspense, and at the dawn of day they all fixed their
gaze on the western horizon.

"Land!" shouted Pencroft at about six o'clock in the morning.

And it was impossible that Pencroft should be mistaken, it was evident
that land was there. Imagine the joy of the little crew of the
"Bonadventure." In a few hours they would land on the beach of the island!

The low coast of Tabor Island, scarcely emerging from the sea, was not
more than fifteen miles distant.

The head of the "Bonadventure," which was a little to the south of the
island, was set directly towards it, and as the sun mounted in the east,
its rays fell upon one or two headlands.

"This is a much less important isle than Lincoln Island," observed
Herbert, "and is probably due like ours to some submarine convulsion."

At eleven o'clock the "Bonadventure" was not more than two miles off, and
Pencroft, while looking for a suitable place at which to land, proceeded
very cautiously through the unknown waters. The whole of the island could
now be surveyed, and on it could be seen groups of gum and other large
trees, of the same species as those growing on Lincoln Island. But the
astonishing thing was that no smoke arose to show that the island was
inhabited, no signal whatever appeared on the shore!

And yet the document was clear enough; there was a castaway, and this
castaway should have been on the watch.

In the meanwhile the "Bonadventure" entered the winding channels among
the reefs, and Pencroft observed every turn with extreme care. He had put
Herbert at the helm, posting himself in the bows, inspecting the water,
while he held the halliard in his hand, ready to lower the sail at a
moment's notice. Gideon Spilett with his glass eagerly scanned the shore,
though without perceiving anything.

However, at about twelve o'clock the keel of the "Bonadventure" grated on
the bottom. The anchor was let go, the sails furled, and the crew of the
little vessel landed.

And there was no reason to doubt that this was Tabor Island, since
according to the most recent charts there was no island in this part of the
Pacific between New Zealand and the American Coast.

The vessel was securely moored, so that there should be no danger of her
being carried away by the receding tide; then Pencroft and his companions,
well armed, ascended the shore, so as to gain an elevation of about two
hundred and fifty or three hundred feet which rose at a distance of half a
mile.

"From the summit of that hill," said Spilett, "we can no doubt obtain a
complete view of the island, which will greatly facilitate our search."

"So as to do here," replied Herbert, "that which Captain Harding did the
very first thing on Lincoln Island, by climbing Mount Franklin."

"Exactly so," answered the reporter, "and it is the best plan."

While thus talking the explorers had advanced along a clearing which
terminated at the foot of the hill. Flocks of rock-pigeons and sea-
swallows, similar to those of Lincoln Island, fluttered around them. Under
the woods which skirted the glade on the left they could hear the bushes
rustling and see the grass waving, which indicated the presence of timid
animals, but still nothing to show that the island was inhabited.

Arrived at the foot of the hill, Pencroft, Spilett, and Herbert climbed
it in a few minutes, and gazed anxiously round the horizon.

They were on an islet, which did not measure more than six miles in
circumference, its shape not much bordered by capes or promontories, bays
or creeks, being a lengthened oval. All around, the lonely sea extended to
the limits of the horizon. No land nor even a sail was in sight.

This woody islet did not offer the varied aspects of Lincoln Island, arid
and wild in one part, but fertile and rich in the other. On the contrary
this was a uniform mass of verdure, out of which rose two or three hills of
no great height. Obliquely to the oval of the island ran a stream through a
wide meadow falling into the sea on the west by a narrow mouth.

"The domain is limited," said Herbert.

"Yes," rejoined Pencroft: "It would have been too small for us."

"And moreover,' said the reporter, "it appears to be uninhabited."

"Indeed," answered Herbert, "nothing here betrays the presence of man."

"Let us go down," said Pencroft, "and search."

The sailor and his two companions returned to the shore, to the place
where they had left the "Bonadventure."

They had decided to make the tour of the island on foot, before exploring
the interior; so that not a spot should escape their investigations. The
beach was easy to follow, and only in some places was their way barred by
large rocks, which, however, they easily passed round. The explorers
proceeded towards the south, disturbing numerous flocks of sea-birds and
herds of seals, which threw themselves into the sea as soon as they saw the
strangers at a distance.

"Those beasts yonder," observed the reporter, "do not see men for the
first time. They fear them, therefore they must know them."

An hour after their departure they arrived on the southern point of the
islet, terminated by a sharp cape, and proceeded towards the north along
the western coast, equally formed by sand and rocks, the background
bordered with thick woods.

There was not a trace of a habitation in any part, not the print of a
human foot on the shore of the island, which after four hours' walking had
been gone completely round.

It was to say the least very extraordinary, and they were compelled to
believe that Tabor Island was not or was no longer inhabited. Perhaps,
after all the document was already several months or several years old, and
it was possible in this case, either that the castaway had been enabled to
return to his country, or that he had died of misery.

Pencroft, Spilett, and Herbert, forming more or less probable conjectures,
dined rapidly on board the "Bonadventure" so as to be able to continue
their excursion until nightfall. This was done at five o'clock in the
evening, at which hour they entered the wood.

Numerous animals fled at their approach, being principally, one might
say, only goats and pigs, which were obviously European species.

Doubtless some whaler had landed them on the island, where they had
rapidly increased. Herbert resolved to catch one or two living, and take
them back to Lincoln Island.

It was no longer doubtful that men at some period or other had visited
this islet, and this became still more evident when paths appeared trodden
through the forest, felled trees, and everywhere traces of the hand of man;
but the trees were becoming rotten, and had been felled many years ago; the
marks of the axe were velveted with moss, and the grass grew long and thick
on the paths, so that it was difficult to find them.

"But," observed Gideon Spilett, "this not only proves that men have
landed on the island, but also that they lived on it for some time. Now,
who were these men? How many of them remain?"

"The document," said Herbert, "only spoke of one castaway."

"Well, if he is still on the island," replied Pencroft, "it is impossible
but that we shall find him."

The exploration was continued. The sailor and his companions naturally
followed the route which cut diagonally across the island, and they were
thus obliged to follow the stream which flowed towards the sea.

If the animals of European origin, if works due to a human hand, showed
incontestably that men had already visited the island, several specimens of
the vegetable kingdom did not prove it less. In some places, in the midst
of clearings, it was evident that the soil had been planted with culinary
plants, at probably the same distant period.

What, then, was Herbert's joy, when he recognized potatoes, chicory,
sorrel, carrots, cabbages, and turnips, of which it was sufficient to
collect the seed to enrich the soil of Lincoln Island.

"Capital, jolly!" exclaimed Pencroft. "That will suit Neb as well as us.
Even if we do not find the castaway, at least our voyage will not have been
useless, and God will have rewarded us."

"Doubtless," replied Gideon Spilett, "but to see the state in which we
find these plantations, it is to be feared that the island has not been
inhabited for some time."

"Indeed," answered Herbert, "an inhabitant, whoever he was, could not have
neglected such an important culture!"

"Yes," said Pencroft, "the castaway has gone."

"We must suppose so."

"It must then be admitted that the document has already a distant date?"

"Evidently."

"And that the bottle only arrived at Lincoln Island after having floated
in the sea a long time."

"Why not?" returned Pencroft. "But night is coming on," added he, "and I
think that it will be best to give up the search for the present."

"Let us go on board, and to-morrow we will begin again," said the
reporter.

This was the wisest course, and it was about to be followed when Herbert,
pointing to a confused mass among the trees, exclaimed,--

"A hut!"

All three immediately ran towards the dwelling. In the twilight it was
just possible to see that it was built of planks and covered with a thick
tarpaulin.

The half-closed door was pushed open by Pencroft, who entered with a
rapid step.

The hut was empty!

Chapter 14

Pencroft, Herbert, and Gideon Spilett remained silent in the midst of the
darkness.

Pencroft shouted loudly.

No reply was made.

The sailor then struck a light and set fire to a twig. This lighted for a
minute a small room, which appeared perfectly empty. At the back was a rude
fireplace, with a few cold cinders, supporting an armful of dry wood.
Pencroft threw the blazing twig on it, the wood crackled and gave forth a
bright light.

The sailor and his two companions then perceived a disordered bed, of
which the damp and yellow coverlets proved that it had not been used for a
long time. In the corner of the fireplace were two kettles, covered with
rust, and an overthrown pot. A cupboard, with a few moldy sailor's clothes;
on the table a tin plate and a Bible, eaten away by damp; in a corner a few
tools, a spade, pickaxe, two fowling-pieces, one of which was broken; on a
plank, forming a shelf, stood a barrel of powder, still untouched, a barrel
of shot, and several boxes of caps, all thickly covered with dust,
accumulated, perhaps, by many long years.

"There is no one here," said the reporter.

"No one," replied Pencroft.

"It is a long time since this room has been inhabited," observed Herbert.

"Yes, a very long time!" answered the reporter.

"Mr. Spilett," then said Pencroft, "instead of returning on board, I
think that it would be well to pass the night in this hut."

"You are right, Pencroft," answered Gideon Spilett, "and if its owner
returns, well! perhaps he will not be sorry to find the place taken
possession of."

"He will not return," said the sailor, shaking his head.

"You think that he has quitted the island?" asked the reporter.

"If he had quitted the island he would have taken away his weapons and
his tools," replied Pencroft. "You know the value which castaways set on
such articles as these the last remains of a wreck. No! no!" repeated the
sailor, in a tone of conviction; "no, he has not left the island! If he had
escaped in a boat made by himself, he would still less have left these
indispensable and necessary articles. No! he is on the island!"

"Living?" asked Herbert.

"Living or dead. But if he is dead, I suppose he has not buried himself,
and so we shall at least find his remains!"

It was then agreed that the night should be passed in the deserted
dwelling, and a store of wood found in a corner was sufficient to warm it.
The door closed, Pencroft, Herbert and Spilett remained there, seated on a
bench, talking little but wondering much. They were in a frame of mind to
imagine anything or expect anything. They listened eagerly for sounds
outside. The door might have opened suddenly, and a man presented himself
to them without their being in the least surprised, notwithstanding all
that the hut revealed of abandonment, and they had their hands ready to
press the hands of this man, this castaway, this unknown friend, for whom
friends were waiting.

But no voice was heard, the door did not open. The hours thus passed
away.

How long the night appeared to the sailor and his companions! Herbert
alone slept for two hours, for at his age sleep is a necessity. They were
all three anxious to continue their exploration of the day before, and to
search the most secret recesses of the islet! The inferences deduced by
Pencroft were perfectly reasonable, and it was nearly certain that, as the
hut was deserted, and the tools, utensils, and weapons were still there,
the owner had succumbed. It was agreed, therefore, that they should search
for his remains, and give them at least Christian burial.

Day dawned; Pencroft and his companions immediately proceeded to survey
the dwelling. It had certainly been built in a favorable situation, at the
back of a little hill, sheltered by five or six magnificent gum-trees.
Before its front and through the trees the axe had prepared a wide
clearing, which allowed the view to extend to the sea. Beyond a lawn,
surrounded by a wooden fence falling to pieces, was the shore, on the left
of which was the mouth of the stream.

The hut had been built of planks, and it was easy to see that these
planks had been obtained from the hull or deck of a ship. It was probable
that a disabled vessel had been cast on the coast of the island, that one
at least of the crew had been saved, and that by means of the wreck this
man, having tools at his disposal, had built the dwelling.

And this became still more evident when Gideon Spilett, after having
walked around the hut, saw on a plank, probably one of those which had
formed the armor of the wrecked vessel, these letters already half effaced:

BR--TAN--A

"Britannia," exclaimed Pencroft, whom the reporter had called; "it is a
common name for ships, and I could not say if she was English or American!"

"It matters very little, Pencroft!"

"Very little indeed," answered the sailor, "and we will save the survivor
of her crew if he is still living, to whatever country he may belong. But
before beginning our search again let us go on board the 'Bonadventure'."

A sort of uneasiness had seized Pencroft upon the subject of his vessel.
Should the island be inhabited after all, and should some one have taken
possession of her? But he shrugged his shoulders at such an unreasonable
supposition. At any rate the sailor was not sorry to go to breakfast on
board. The road already trodden was not long, scarcely a mile. They set out
on their walk, gazing into the wood and thickets through which goats and
pigs fled in hundreds.

Twenty minutes after leaving the hut Pencroft and his companions reached
the western coast of the island, and saw the "Bonadventure" held fast by
her anchor, which was buried deep in the sand.

Pencroft could not restrain a sigh of satisfaction. After all this vessel
was his child, and it is the right of fathers to be often uneasy when there
is no occasion for it.

They returned on board, breakfasted, so that it should not be necessary
to dine until very late; then the repast being ended, the exploration was
continued and conducted with the most minute care. Indeed, it was very
probable that the only inhabitant of the island had perished. It was
therefore more for the traces of a dead than of a living man that Pencroft
and his companions searched. But their searches were vain, and during the
half of that day they sought to no purpose among the thickets of trees
which covered the islet. There was then scarcely any doubt that, if the
castaway was dead, no trace of his body now remained, but that some wild
beast had probably devoured it to the last bone.

"We will set off to-morrow at daybreak," said Pencroft to his two
companions, as about two o'clock they were resting for a few minutes under
the shade of a clump of firs.

"I should think that we might without scruple take the utensils which
belonged to the castaway," added Herbert.

"I think so, too," returned Gideon Spilett, "and these arms and tools
will make up the stores of Granite House. The supply of powder and shot is
also most important."

"Yes," replied Pencroft, "but we must not forget to capture a couple or
two of those pigs, of which Lincoln Island is destitute."

"Nor to gather those seeds," added Herbert, "which will give us all the
vegetables of the Old and the New Worlds."

"Then perhaps it would be best," said the reporter, "to remain a day
longer on Tabor Island, so as to collect all that may be useful to us."

"No, Mr. Spilett," answered Pencroft, "I will ask you to set off to-morrow
at daybreak. The wind seems to me to be likely to shift to the west, and
after having had a fair wind for coming we shall have a fair wind for
going back."

"Then do not let us lose time," said Herbert, rising.

"We won't waste time," returned Pencroft. "You, Herbert, go and gather
the seeds, which you know better than we do. While you do that, Mr. Spilett
and I will go and have a pig hunt, and even without Top I hope we shall
manage to catch a few!"

Herbert accordingly took the path which led towards the cultivated part
of the islet, while the sailor and the reporter entered the forest.

Many specimens of the porcine race fled before them, and these animals,
which were singularly active, did not appear to be in a humor to allow
themselves to be approached.

However, after an hour's chase, the hunters had just managed to get hold
of a couple lying in a thicket, when cries were heard resounding from the
north part of the island, With the cries were mingled terrible yells, in
which there was nothing human.

Pencroft and Gideon Spilett were at once on their feet, and the pigs by
this movement began to run away, at the moment when the sailor was getting
ready the rope to bind them.

"That's Herbert's voice," said the reporter.

"Run!" exclaimed Pencroft.

And the sailor and Spilett immediately ran at full speed towards the spot
from whence the cries proceeded.

They did well to hasten, for at a turn of the path near a clearing they
saw the lad thrown on the ground and in the grasp of a savage being,
apparently a gigantic ape, who was about to do him some great harm.

To rush on this monster, throw him on the ground in his turn, snatch
Herbert from him, then bind him securely, was the work of a minute for
Pencroft and Gideon Spilett. The sailor was of Herculean strength, the
reporter also very powerful, and in spite of the monster's resistance he
was firmly tied so that he could not even move.

"You are not hurt, Herbert?" asked Spilett.

"No, no!"

"Oh, if this ape had wounded him!" exclaimed Pencroft.

"But he is not an ape," answered Herbert.

At these words Pencroft and Gideon Spilett looked at the singular being
who lay on the ground. Indeed it was not an ape; it was a human being, a
man. But what a man! A savage in all the horrible acceptation of the word,
and so much the more frightful that he seemed fallen to the lowest degree
of brutishness!

Shaggy hair, untrimmed beard descending to the chest, the body almost
naked except a rag round the waist, wild eyes, enormous hands with
immensely long nails, skin the color of mahogany, feet as hard as if made
of horn, such was the miserable creature who yet had a claim to be called a
man. But it might justly be asked if there were yet a soul in this body, or
if the brute instinct alone survived in it!

"Are you quite sure that this is a man, or that he has ever been one?"
said Pencroft to the reporter.

"Alas! there is no doubt about it," replied Spilett.

"Then this must be the castaway?" asked Herbert.

"Yes," replied Gideon Spilett, "but the unfortunate man has no longer
anything human about him!"

The reporter spoke the truth. It was evident that if the castaway had ever
been a civilized being, solitude had made him a
savage, or worse, perhaps a regular man of the woods. Hoarse
sounds issued from his throat between his teeth, which were
sharp as the teeth of a wild beast made to tear raw flesh.

Memory must have deserted him long before, and for a long time also he
had forgotten how to use his gun and tools, and he no longer knew how to
make a fire! It could be seen that he was active and powerful, but the
physical qualities had been developed in him to the injury of the moral
qualities. Gideon Spilett spoke to him. He did not appear to understand or
even to hear. And yet on looking into his eyes, the reporter thought he
could see that all reason was not extinguished in him. However, the
prisoner did not struggle, nor even attempt to break his bonds. Was he
overwhelmed by the presence of men whose fellow he had once been? Had he
found in some corner of his brain a fleeting remembrance which recalled him
to humanity? If free, would he attempt to fly, or would he remain? They
could not tell, but they did not make the experiment; and after gazing
attentively at the miserable creature,--

"Whoever he may be," remarked Gideon Spilett, "whoever he may have been,
and whatever he may become, it is our duty to take him with us to Lincoln
Island."

"Yes, yes!" replied Herbert, "and perhaps with care we may arouse in him
same gleam of intelligence."

"The soul does not die," said the reporter, "and it would be a great
satisfaction to rescue one of God's creatures from brutishness."

Pencroft shook his head doubtfully.

"We must try at any rate," returned the reporter; "humanity commands us."

It was indeed their duty as Christians and civilized beings. All three
felt this, and they well knew that Cyrus Harding would approve of their
acting thus.

"Shall we leave him bound?" asked the sailor.

"Perhaps he would walk if his feet were unfastened," said Herbert.

"Let us try," replied Pencroft.

The cords which shackled the prisoner's feet were cut off, but his arms
remained securely fastened. He got up by himself and did not manifest any
desire to run away. His hard eyes darted a piercing glance at the three
men, who walked near him, but nothing denoted that he recollected being
their fellow, or at least having been so. A continual hissing sound issued
from his lips, his aspect was wild, but he did not attempt to resist.

By the reporter's advice the unfortunate man was taken to the hut.
Perhaps the sight of the things that belonged to him would make some
impression on him! Perhaps a spark would be sufficient to revive his
obscured intellect, to rekindle his dulled soul. The dwelling was not far
off. In a few minutes they arrived there, but the prisoner remembered
nothing, and it appeared that he had lost consciousness of everything.

What could they think of the degree of brutishness into which this
miserable being had fallen, unless that his imprisonment on the islet dated
from a very distant period and after having arrived there a rational being
solitude had reduced him to this condition.

The reporter then thought that perhaps the sight of fire would have some
effect on him, and in a moment one of those beautiful flames, that attract
even animals, blazed up on the hearth. The sight of the flame seemed at
first to fix the attention of the unhappy object, but soon he turned away
and the look of intelligence faded. Evidently there was nothing to be done,
for the time at least, but to take him on board the "Bonadventure." This
was done, and he remained there in Pencroft's charge.

Herbert and Spilett returned to finish their work; and some hours after
they came back to the shore, carrying the utensils and guns, a store of
vegetables, of seeds, some game, and two couple of pigs.

All was embarked, and the "Bonadventure" was ready to weigh anchor and
sail with the morning tide.

The prisoner had been placed in the fore-cabin, where he remained quiet,
silent, apparently deaf and dumb.

Pencroft offered him something to eat, but he pushed away the cooked meat
that was presented to him and which doubtless did not suit him. But on the
sailor showing him one of the ducks which Herbert had killed, he pounced on
it like a wild beast, and devoured it greedily.

"You think that he will recover his senses?" asked Pencroft. "It is not
impossible that our care will have an effect upon him, for it is solitude
that has made him what he is, and from this time forward he will be no
longer alone."

"The poor man must no doubt have been in this state for a long time,"
said Herbert.

"Perhaps," answered Gideon Spilett.

"About what age is he?" asked the lad.

"It is difficult to say," replied the reporter, "for it is impossible to
see his features under the thick beard which covers his face, but he is no
longer young, and I suppose he might be about fifty."

"Have you noticed, Mr. Spilett, how deeply sunk his eyes are?" asked
Herbert.

"Yes, Herbert, but I must add that they are more human than one could
expect from his appearance."

"However, we shall see," replied Pencroft, "and I am anxious to know what
opinion Captain Harding will have of our savage. We went to look for a
human creature, and we are bringing back a monster! After all, we did what
we could."

The night passed, and whether the prisoner slept or not could not be
known, but at any rate, although he had been unbound, he did not move. He
was like a wild animal, which appears stunned at first by its capture, and
becomes wild again afterwards.

At daybreak the next morning, the 15th of October, the change of weather
predicted by Pencroft occurred. The wind having shifted to the northwest
favored the return of the "Bonadventure," but at the same time it
freshened, which might render navigation more difficult.

At five o'clock in the morning the anchor was weighed. Pencroft took a
reef in the mainsail, and steered towards the north-east, so as to sail
straight for Lincoln Island.

The first day of the voyage was not marked by any incident. The prisoner
remained quiet in the fore-cabin, and as he had been a sailor it appeared
that the motion of the vessel might produce on him a salutary reaction. Did
some recollection of his former calling return to him? However that might
be, he remained tranquil, astonished rather than depressed.

The next day the wind increased, blowing more from the north,
consequently in a less favorable direction for the "Bonadventure." Pencroft
was soon obliged to sail close-hauled, and without saying anything about it
he began to be uneasy at the state of the sea, which frequently broke over
the bows. Certainly, if the wind did not moderate, it would take a longer
time to reach Lincoln Island than it had taken to make Tabor Island.

Indeed, on the morning of the 17th, the "Bonadventure" had been forty-
eight hours at sea, and nothing showed that she was near the island. It was
impossible, besides, to estimate the distance traversed, or to trust to the
reckoning for the direction, as the speed had been very irregular.

Twenty-four hours after there was yet no land in sight. The wind was
right ahead and the sea very heavy. The sails were close-reefed, and they
tacked frequently. On the 18th, a wave swept completely over the
"Bonadventure"; and if the crew had not taken the precaution of lashing
themselves to the deck, they would have been carried away.

On this occasion Pencroft and his companions, who were occupied with
loosing themselves, received unexpected aid from the prisoner, who emerged
from the hatchway as if his sailor's instinct had suddenly returned, broke
a piece out of the bulwarks with a spar so as to let the water which filled
the deck escape. Then the vessel being clear, he descended to his cabin
without having uttered a word. Pencroft, Gideon Spilett, and Herbert,
greatly astonished, let him proceed.

Their situation was truly serious, and the sailor had reason to fear that
he was lost on the wide sea without any possibility of recovering his
course.

The night was dark and cold. However, about eleven o'clock, the wind
fell, the sea went down, and the speed of the vessel, as she labored less,
greatly increased.

Neither Pencroft, Spilett, nor Herbert thought of taking an hour's sleep.
They kept a sharp look-out, for either Lincoln Island could not be far
distant and would be sighted at daybreak, or the "Bonadventure," carried
away by currents, had drifted so much that it would be impossible to
rectify her course. Pencroft, uneasy to the last degree, yet did not
despair, for he had a gallant heart, and grasping the tiller he anxiously
endeavored to pierce the darkness which surrounded them.

About two o'clock in the morning he started forward,--

"A light! a light!" he shouted.

Indeed, a bright light appeared twenty miles to the northeast. Lincoln
Island was there, and this fire, evidently lighted by Cyrus Harding, showed
them the course to be followed. Pencroft, who was bearing too much to the
north, altered his course and steered towards the fire, which burned
brightly above the horizon like a star of the first magnitude.

Chapter 15

The next day, the 20th of October, at seven o'clock in the morning, after a
voyage of four days, the "Bonadventure" gently glided up to the beach at
the mouth of the Mercy.

Cyrus Harding and Neb, who had become very uneasy at the bad weather and
the prolonged absence of their companions, had climbed at daybreak to the
plateau of Prospect Heights, and they had at last caught sight of the
vessel which had been so long in returning.

"God be praised! there they are!" exclaimed Cyrus Harding.

As to Neb in his joy, he began to dance, to twirl round, clapping his
hands and shouting, "Oh! my master!" A more touching pantomime than the
finest discourse.

The engineer's first idea, on counting the people on the deck of the
"Bonadventure," was that Pencroft had not found the castaway of Tabor
Island, or at any rate that the unfortunate man had refused to leave his
island and change one prison for another.

Indeed Pencroft, Gideon Spilett, and Herbert were alone on the deck of
the "Bonadventure."

The moment the vessel touched, the engineer and Neb were waiting on the
beach, and before the passengers had time to leap on to the sand, Harding
said: "We have been very uneasy at your delay, my friends! Did you meet
with any accident?"

"No," replied Gideon Spilett; "on the contrary, everything went
wonderfully well. We will tell you all about it."

"However," returned the engineer, "your search has been unsuccessful,
since you are only three, just as you went!"

"Excuse me, captain," replied the sailor, "we are four."

"You have found the castaway?"

"Yes."

"And you have brought him?"

"Yes."

"Living?"

"Yes."

"Where is he? Who is he?"

"He is," replied the reporter, "or rather he was a man! There, Cyrus,
that is all we can tell you!"

The engineer was then informed of all that had passed during the voyage,
and under what conditions the search had been conducted; how the only
dwelling in the island had long been abandoned; how at last a castaway had
been captured, who appeared no longer to belong to the human species.

"And that's just the point," added Pencroft, "I don't know if we have
done right to bring him here."

"Certainly you have, Pencroft," replied the engineer quickly.

"But the wretched creature has no sense!"

"That is possible at present," replied Cyrus Harding, "but only a few
months ago the wretched creature was a man like you and me. And who knows
what will become of the survivor of us after a long solitude on this
island? It is a great misfortune to be alone, my friends; and it must be
believed that solitude can quickly destroy reason, since you have found
this poor creature in such a state!"

"But, captain," asked Herbert, "what leads you to think that the
brutishness of the unfortunate man began only a few months back?"

"Because the document we found had been recently written," answered the
engineer, "and the castaway alone can have written it."

"Always supposing," observed Gideon Spilett, "that it had not been
written by a companion of this man, since dead."

"That is impossible, my dear Spilett."

"Why so?" asked the reporter.

"Because the document would then have spoken of two castaways," replied
Harding, "and it mentioned only one."

Herbert then in a few words related the incidents of the voyage, and
dwelt on the curious fact of the sort of passing gleam in the prisoner's
mind, when for an instant in the height of the storm he had become a
sailor.

"Well, Herbert," replied the engineer, "you are right to attach great
importance to this fact. The unfortunate man cannot be incurable, and
despair has made him what he is; but here he will find his fellow-men, and
since there is still a soul in him, this soul we shall save!"

The castaway of Tabor Island, to the great pity of the engineer and the
great astonishment of Neb, was then brought from the cabin which he
occupied in the fore part of the "Bonadventure"; when once on land he
manifested a wish to run away.

But Cyrus Harding approaching, placed his hand on his shoulder with a
gesture full of authority, and looked at him with infinite tenderness.
Immediately the unhappy man, submitting to a superior will, gradually
became calm, his eyes fell, his head bent, and he made no more resistance.

"Poor fellow!" murmured the engineer.

Cyrus Harding had attentively observed him. To judge by his appearance
this miserable being had no longer anything human about him, and yet
Harding, as had the reporter already, observed in his look an indefinable
trace of intelligence.

It was decided that the castaway, or rather the stranger as he was
thenceforth termed by his companions, should live in one of the rooms of
Granite House, from which, however, he could not escape. He was led there
without difficulty, and with careful attention, it might, perhaps, be hoped
that some day he would be a companion to the settlers in Lincoln Island.

Cyrus Harding, during breakfast, which Neb had hastened to prepare, as
the reporter, Herbert, and Pencroft were dying of hunger, heard in detail
all the incidents which had marked the voyage of exploration to the islet.
He agreed with his friends on this point, that the stranger must be either
English or American, the name Britannia leading them to suppose this, and,
besides, through the bushy beard, and under the shaggy, matted hair, the
engineer thought he could recognize the characteristic features of the
Anglo-Saxon.

"But, by the bye," said Gideon Spilett, addressing Herbert, "you never
told us how you met this savage, and we know nothing, except that you would
have been strangled, if we had not happened to come up in time to help
you!"

"Upon my word," answered Herbert, "it is rather difficult to say how it
happened. I was, I think, occupied in collecting my plants, when I heard a
noise like an avalanche falling from a very tall tree. I scarcely had time
to look round. This unfortunate man, who was without doubt concealed in a
tree, rushed upon me in less time than I take to tell you about it, and
unless Mr. Spilett and Pencroft--"

"My boy!" said Cyrus Harding, "you ran a great danger, but, perhaps,
without that, the poor creature would have still hidden himself from your
search, and we should not have had a new companion."

"You hope, then, Cyrus, to succeed in reforming the man?" asked the
reporter.

"Yes," replied the engineer.

Breakfast over, Harding and his companions left Granite House and
returned to the beach. They there occupied themselves in unloading the
"Bonadventure," and the engineer, having examined the arms and tools, saw
nothing which could help them to establish the identity of the stranger.

The capture of pigs, made on the islet, was looked upon as being very
profitable to Lincoln Island, and the animals were led to the sty, where
they soon became at home.

The two barrels, containing the powder and shot, as well as the box of
caps, were very welcome. It was agreed to establish a small powder-
magazine, either outside Granite House or in the Upper Cavern, where there
would be no fear of explosion. However, the use of pyroxyle was to be
continued, for this substance giving excellent results, there was no reason
for substituting ordinary powder.

When the unloading of the vessel was finished,--

"Captain," said Pencroft, "I think it would be prudent to put our
'Bonadventure' in a safe place."

"Is she not safe at the mouth of the Mercy?" asked Cyrus Harding.

"No, captain," replied the sailor. "Half of the time she is stranded on
the sand, and that works her. She is a famous craft, you see, and she
behaved admirably during the squall which struck us on our return."

"Could she not float in the river?"

"No doubt, captain, she could; but there is no shelter there, and in the
east winds, I think that the 'Bonadventure' would suffer much from the
surf."

"Well, where would you put her, Pencroft?"

"In Port Balloon," replied the sailor. "That little creek, shut in by
rocks, seems to me to be just the harbor we want."

"Is it not rather far?"

"Pooh! it is not more than three miles from Granite House, and we have a
fine straight road to take us there!"

"Do it then, Pencroft, and take your 'Bonadventure' there," replied the
engineer, "and yet I would rather have her under our more immediate
protection. When we have time, we must make a little harbor for her."

"Famous!" exclaimed Pencroft. "A harbor with a lighthouse, a pier, and
dock! Ah! really with you, captain, everything becomes easy."

"Yes, my brave Pencroft," answered the engineer, "but on condition,
however, that you help me, for you do as much as three men in all our
work."

Herbert and the sailor then re-embarked on board the "Bonadventure," the
anchor was weighed, the sail hoisted, and the wind drove her rapidly
towards Claw Cape. Two hours after, she was reposing on the tranquil waters
of Port Balloon.

During the first days passed by the stranger in Granite House, had he
already given them reason to think that his savage nature was becoming
tamed? Did a brighter light burn in the depths of that obscured mind? In
short, was the soul returning to the body?

Yes, to a certainty, and to such a degree, that Cyrus Harding and the
reporter wondered if the reason of the unfortunate man had ever been
totally extinguished. At first, accustomed to the open air, to the
unrestrained liberty which he had enjoyed on Tabor Island, the stranger
manifested a sullen fury, and it was feared that he might throw himself
onto the beach, out of one of the windows of Granite House. But gradually
he became calmer, and more freedom was allowed to his movements.

They had reason to hope, and to hope much. Already, forgetting his
carnivorous instincts, the stranger accepted a less bestial nourishment
than that on which he fed on the islet, and cooked meat did not produce in
him the same sentiment of repulsion which he had showed on board the
"Bonadventure." Cyrus Harding had profited by a moment when he was
sleeping, to cut his hair and matted beard, which formed a sort of mane and
gave him such a savage aspect. He had also been clothed more suitably,
after having got rid of the rag which covered him. The result was that,
thanks to these attentions, the stranger resumed a more human appearance,
and it even seemed as if his eyes had become milder. Certainly, when
formerly lighted up by intelligence, this man's face must have had a sort
of beauty.

Every day, Harding imposed on himself the task of passing some hours in
his company. He came and worked near him, and occupied himself in different
things, so as to fix his attention. A spark, indeed, would be sufficient to
reillumine that soul, a recollection crossing that brain to recall reason.
That had been seen, during the storm, on board the "Bonadventure!" The
engineer did not neglect either to speak aloud, so as to penetrate at the
same time by the organs of hearing and sight the depths of that torpid
intelligence. Sometimes one of his companions, sometimes another, sometimes
all joined him. They spoke most often of things belonging to the navy,
which must interest a sailor.

At times, the stranger gave some slight attention to what was said, and
the settlers were soon convinced that he partly understood them. Sometimes
the expression of his countenance was deeply sorrowful, a proof that he
suffered mentally, for his face could not be mistaken; but he did not
speak, although at different times, however, they almost thought that words
were about to issue from his lips. At all events, the poor creature was
quite quiet and sad!

But was not his calm only apparent? Was not his sadness only the result
of his seclusion? Nothing could yet be ascertained. Seeing only certain
objects and in a limited space, always in contact with the colonists, to
whom he would soon become accustomed, having no desires to satisfy, better
fed, better clothed, it was natural that his physical nature should
gradually improve; but was he penetrated with the sense of a new life? or
rather, to employ a word which would be exactly applicable to him, was he
not becoming tamed, like an animal in company with his master? This was an
important question, which Cyrus Harding was anxious to answer, and yet he
did not wish to treat his invalid roughly! Would he ever be a convalescent?

How the engineer observed him every moment! How he was on the watch for
his soul, if one may use the expression! How he was ready to grasp it! The
settlers followed with real sympathy all the phases of the cure undertaken
by Harding. They aided him also in this work of humanity, and all, except
perhaps the incredulous Pencroft, soon shared both his hope and his faith.

The calm of the stranger was deep, as has been said, and he even showed a
sort of attachment for the engineer, whose influence he evidently felt.
Cyrus Harding resolved then to try him, by transporting him to another
scene, from that ocean which formerly his eyes had been accustomed to
contemplate, to the border of the forest, which might perhaps recall those
where so many years of his life had been passed!

"But," said Gideon Spilett, "can we hope that he will not escape, if once
set at liberty?"

"The experiment must be tried," replied the engineer.

"Well!' said Pencroft. "When that fellow is outside, and feels the fresh
air, he will be off as fast as his legs can carry him!"

"I do not think so," returned Harding.

"Let us try,,' said Spilett.

"We will try," replied the engineer.

This was on the 30th of October, and consequently the castaway of Tabor
Island had been a prisoner in Granite House for nine days. It was warm, and
a bright sun darted its rays on the island. Cyrus Harding and Pencroft went
to the room occupied by the stranger, who was found lying near the window
and gazing at the sky.

"Come, my friend," said the engineer to him.

The stranger rose immediately. His eyes were fixed on Cyrus Harding, and
he followed him, while the sailor marched behind them, little confident as
to the result of the experiment.

Arrived at the door, Harding and Pencroft made him take his place in the
lift, while Neb, Herbert, and Gideon Spilett waited for them before Granite
House. The lift descended, and in a few moments all were united on the
beach.

The settlers went a short distance from the stranger, so as to leave him
at liberty.

He then made a few steps toward the sea, and his look brightened with
extreme animation, but he did not make the slightest attempt to escape. He
was gazing at the little waves which, broken by the islet, rippled on the
sand.

"This is only the sea," observed Gideon Spilett, "and possibly it does
not inspire him with any wish to escape!"

"Yes," replied Harding, "we must take him to the plateau, on the border
of the forest. There the experiment will be more conclusive."

"Besides, he could not run away," said Neb, "since the bridge is raised."

"Oh!" said Pencroft, "that isn't a man to be troubled by a stream like
Creek Glycerine! He could cross it directly, at a single bound!"

"We shall soon see," Harding contented himself with replying, his eyes
not quitting those of his patient.

The latter was then led towards the mouth of the Mercy, and all climbing
the left bank of the river, reached Prospect Heights.

Arrived at the spot on which grew the first beautiful trees of the
forest, their foliage slightly agitated by the breeze, the stranger
appeared greedily to drink in the penetrating odor which filled the
atmosphere, and a long sigh escaped from his chest.

The settlers kept behind him, ready to seize him if he made any movement
to escape!

And, indeed, the poor creature was on the point of springing into the
creek which separated him from the forest, and his legs were bent for an
instant as if for a spring, but almost immediately he stepped back, half
sank down, and a large tear fell from his eyes.

"Ah!" exclaimed Cyrus Harding, "you have become a man again, for you can
weep!"

Chapter 16

Yes! the unfortunate man had wept! Some recollection doubtless had flashed
across his brain, and to use Cyrus Harding's expression, by those tears he
was once more a man.

The colonists left him for some time on the plateau, and withdrew
themselves to a short distance, so that he might feel himself free; but he
did not think of profiting by this liberty, and Harding soon brought him
back to Granite House. Two days after this occurrence, the stranger
appeared to wish gradually to mingle with their common life. He evidently
heard and understood, but no less evidently was he strangely determined not
to speak to the colonists; for one evening, Pencroft, listening at the door
of his room, heard these words escape from his lips:--

"No! here! I! never!"

The sailor reported these words to his companions.

"There is some painful mystery there!" said Harding.

The stranger had begun to use the laboring tools, and he worked in the
garden. When he stopped in his work, as was often the case, he remained
retired within himself, but on the engineer's recommendation, they
respected the reserve which he apparently wished to keep. If one of the
settlers approached him, he drew back, and his chest heaved with sobs, as
if overburdened!

Was it remorse that overwhelmed him thus? They were compelled to believe
so, and Gideon Spilett could not help one day making this observation,--

"If he does not speak it is because he has, I fear, things too serious to
be told!"

They must be patient and wait.

A few days later, on the 3rd of November, the stranger, working on the
plateau, had stopped, letting his spade drop to the ground, and Harding,
who was observing him from a little distance, saw that tears were again
flowing from his eyes. A sort of irresistible pity led him towards the
unfortunate man, and he touched his arm lightly.

"My friend!" said he.

The stranger tried to avoid his look, and Cyrus Harding having endeavored
to take his hand, he drew back quickly.

"My friend," said Harding in a firmer voice, "look at me, I wish it!"

The stranger looked at the engineer, and seemed to be under his power, as
a subject under the influence of a mesmerist. He wished to run away. But
then his countenance suddenly underwent a transformation. His eyes flashed.
Words struggled to escape from his lips. He could no longer contain
himself! At last he folded his arms; then, in a hollow voice,--"Who are
you?" he asked Cyrus Harding.

"Castaways, like you," replied the engineer, whose emotion was deep. "We
have brought you here, among your fellow-men."

"My fellow-men!... I have none!'

"You are in the midst of friends."

"Friends!--for me! friends!" exclaimed the stranger, hiding his face in
his hands. "No--never--leave me! leave me!"

Then he rushed to the side of the plateau which overlooked the sea, and
remained there a long time motionless.

Harding rejoined his companions and related to them what had just
happened.

"Yes! there is some mystery in that man's life," said Gideon Spilett,
"and it appears as if he had only re-entered society by the path of
remorse."

"I don't know what sort of a man we have brought here," said the sailor.
"He has secrets--"

"Which we will respect," interrupted Cyrus Harding quickly. "If he has
committed any crime, he has most fearfully expiated it, and in our eyes he
is absolved."

For two hours the stranger remained alone on the shore, evidently under
the influence of recollections which recalled all his past life--a
melancholy life doubtless--and the colonists, without losing sight of him,
did not attempt to disturb his solitude. However, after two hours,
appearing to have formed a resolution, he came to find Cyrus Harding. His
eyes were red with the tears he had shed, but he wept no longer. His
countenance expressed deep humility. He appeared anxious, timorous,
ashamed, and his eyes were constantly fixed on the ground.

"Sir," said he to Harding, "your companions and you, are you English?"

"No," answered the engineer, "we are Americans."

"Ah!" said the stranger, and he murmured, "I prefer that!"

"And you, my friend?" asked the engineer.

"English," replied he hastily.

And as if these few words had been difficult to say, he retreated to the
beach, where he walked up and down between the cascade and the mouth of the
Mercy, in a state of extreme agitation.

Then, passing one moment close to Herbert, he stopped and in a stifled
voice,--

"What month?" he asked.

"December," replied Herbert.

"What year?"

"1866."

"Twelve years! twelve years!" he exclaimed.

Then he left him abruptly.

Herbert reported to the colonists the questions and answers which had
been made.

"This unfortunate man," observed Gideon Spilett, "was no longer
acquainted with either months or years!"

"Yes!" added Herbert, "and he had been twelve years already on the islet
when we found him there!"

"Twelve years!" rejoined Harding. "Ah! twelve years of solitude, after a
wicked life, perhaps, may well impair a man's reason!"

"I am induced to think," said Pencroft, "that this man was not wrecked on
Tabor Island, but that in consequence of some crime he was left there."

"You must be right, Pencroft," replied the reporter, "and if it is so it
is not impossible that those who left him on the island may return to fetch
him some day!"

"And they will no longer find him," said Herbert.

"But then," added Pencroft, "they must return, and--"

"My friends," said Cyrus Harding, "do not let us discuss this question
until we know more about it. I believe that the unhappy man has suffered,
that he has severely expiated his faults, whatever they may have been, and
that the wish to unburden himself stifles him. Do not let us press him to
tell us his history! He will tell it to us doubtless, and when we know it,
we shall see what course it will be best to follow. He alone besides can
tell us, if he has more than a hope, a certainty, of returning some day to
his country, but I doubt it!"

"And why?" asked the reporter.

"Because that, in the event of his being sure of being delivered at a
certain time, he would have waited the hour of his deliverance and would
not have thrown this document into the sea. No, it is more probable that he
was condemned to die on that islet, and that he never expected to see his
fellow-creatures again!"

"But," observed the sailor, "there is one thing which I cannot explain."

"What is it?"

"If this man had been left for twelve years on Tabor Island, one may well
suppose that he had been several years already in the wild state in which
we found him!"

"That is probable," replied Cyrus Harding.

"It must then be many years since he wrote that document!"

"No doubt," and yet the document appears to have been recently written!

"Besides, how do you know that the bottle which enclosed the document may
not have taken several years to come from Tabor Island to Lincoln Island?"

"That is not absolutely impossible," replied the reporter.

"Might it not have been a long time already on the coast of the island?"

"No," answered Pencroft, "for it was still floating. We could not even
suppose that after it had stayed for any length of time on the shore, it
would have been swept off by the sea, for the south coast is all rocks, and
it would certainly have been smashed to pieces there!"

"That is true," rejoined Cyrus Harding thoughtfully.

"And then," continued the sailor, "if the document was several years old,
if it had been shut up in that bottle for several years, it would have been
injured by damp. Now, there is nothing of the kind, and it was found in a
perfect state of preservation."

The sailor's reasoning was very just, and pointed out an incomprehensible
fact, for the document appeared to have been recently written, when the
colonists found it in the bottle. Moreover, it gave the latitude and
longitude of Tabor Island correctly, which implied that its author had a
more complete knowledge of hydrography than could be expected of a common
sailor.

"There is in this, again, something unaccountable," said the engineer,
"but we will not urge our companions to speak. When he likes, my friends,
then we shall be ready to hear him!"

During the following days the stranger did not speak a word, and did not
once leave the precincts of the plateau. He worked away, without losing a
moment, without taking a minute's rest, but always in a retired place. At
meal times he never came to Granite House, although invited several times
to do so, but contented himself with eating a few raw vegetables. At
nightfall he did not return to the room assigned to him, but remained under
some clump of trees, or when the weather was bad crouched in some cleft of
the rocks. Thus he lived in the same manner as when he had no other shelter
than the forests of Tabor Island, and as all persuasion to induce him to
improve his life was in vain, the colonists waited patiently. And the time
was near, when, as it seemed, almost involuntarily urged by his conscience,
a terrible confession escaped him.

On the 10th of November, about eight o'clock in the evening, as night was
coming on, the stranger appeared unexpectedly before the settlers, who were
assembled under the veranda. His eyes burned strangely, and he had quite
resumed the wild aspect of his worst days.

Cyrus Harding and his companions were astounded on seeing that, overcome
by some terrible emotion, his teeth chattered like those of a person in a
fever. What was the matter with him? Was the sight of his fellow-creatures
insupportable to him? Was he weary of this return to a civilized mode of
existence? Was he pining for his former savage life? It appeared so, as
soon he was heard to express himself in these incoherent sentences:--

"Why am I here?.... By what right have you dragged me from my islet?....
Do you think there could be any tie between you and me?.... Do you know who
I am--what I have done--why I was there--alone? And who told you that I was
not abandoned there--that I was not condemned to die there?.... Do you know
my past?.... How do you know that I have not stolen, murdered--that I am
not a wretch--an accursed being--only fit to live like a wild beast, far
from all--speak--do you know it?"

The colonists listened without interrupting the miserable creature, from
whom these broken confessions escaped, as it were, in spite of himself.
Harding wishing to calm him, approached him, but he hastily drew back.

"No! no!" he exclaimed; "one word only--am I free?"

"You are free," answered the engineer.

"Farewell, then!" he cried, and fled like a madman.

Neb, Pencroft, and Herbert ran also towards the edge of the wood--but
they returned alone.

"We must let him alone!" said Cyrus Harding.

"He will never come back!" exclaimed Pencroft.

"He will come back," replied the engineer.

Many days passed; but Harding--was it a sort of presentiment? --persisted
in the fixed idea that sooner or later the unhappy man would return.

"It is the last revolt of his wild nature," said he, "which remorse has
touched, and which renewed solitude will terrify."

In the meanwhile, works of all sorts were continued, as well on Prospect
Heights as at the corral, where Harding intended to build a farm. It is
unnecessary to say that the seeds collected by Herbert on Tabor Island had
been carefully sown. The plateau thus formed one immense kitchen-garden,
well laid out and carefully tended, so that the arms of the settlers were
never in want of work. There was always something to be done. As the
esculents increased in number, it became necessary to enlarge the simple
beds, which threatened to grow into regular fields and replace the meadows.
But grass abounded in other parts of the island, and there was no fear of
the onagers being obliged to go on short allowance. It was well worth
while, besides, to turn Prospect Heights into a kitchen-garden, defended by
its deep belt of creeks, and to remove them to the meadows, which had no
need of protection against the depredations of quadrumana and quadrapeds.

On the 15th of November, the third harvest was gathered in. How
wonderfully had the field increased in extent, since eighteen months ago,
when the first grain of wheat was sown! The second crop of six hundred
thousand grains produced this time four thousand bushels, or five hundred
millions of grains!

The colony was rich in corn, for ten bushels alone were sufficient for
sowing every year to produce an ample crop for the food both of men and
beasts. The harvest was completed, and the last fortnight of the month of
November was devoted to the work of converting it into food for man. In
fact, they had corn, but not flour, and the establishment of a mill was
necessary. Cyrus Harding could have utilized the second fall which flowed
into the Mercy to establish his motive power, the first being already
occupied with moving the felting mill, but, after some consultation, it was
decided that a simple windmill should be built on Prospect Heights. The
building of this presented no more difficulty than the building of the
former, and it was moreover certain that there would be no want of wind on
the plateau, exposed as it was to the sea breezes.

"Not to mention," said Pencroft, "that the windmill will be more lively
and will have a good effect in the landscape!"

They set to work by choosing timber for the frame and machinery of the
mill. Some large stones, found at the north of the lake, could be easily
transformed into millstones, and as to the sails, the inexhaustible case of
the balloon furnished the necessary material.

Cyrus Harding made his model, and the site of the mill was chosen a
little to the right of the poultry-yard, near the shore of the lake. The
frame was to rest on a pivot supported with strong timbers, so that it
could turn with all the machinery it contained according as the wind
required it. The work advanced rapidly. Neb and Pencroft had become very
skilful carpenters, and had nothing to do but to copy the models provided
by the engineer.

Soon a sort of cylindrical box, in shape like a pepper-pot, with a
pointed roof, rose on the spot chosen. The four frames which formed the
sails had been firmly fixed in the center beam, so as to form a certain
angle with it, and secured with iron clamps. As to the different parts of
the internal mechanism, the box destined to contain the two millstones, the
fixed stone and the moving stone, the hopper, a sort of large square
trough, wide at the top, narrow at the bottom, which would allow the grain
to fall on the stones, the oscillating spout intended to regulate the
passing of the grain, and lastly the bolting machine, which by the
operation of sifting, separates the bran from the flour, were made without
difficulty. The tools were good, and the work not difficult, for in
reality, the machinery of a mill is very simple. This was only a question
of time.

Every one had worked at the construction of the mill, and on the 1st of
December it was finished. As usual, Pencroft was delighted with his work,
and had no doubt that the apparatus was perfect.

"Now for a good wind," said he, "and we shall grind our first harvest
splendidly!"

"A good wind, certainly," answered the engineer, "but not too much,
Pencroft."

"Pooh! our mill would only go the faster!"

"There is no need for it to go so very fast," replied Cyrus Harding. "It
is known by experience that the greatest quantity of work is performed by a
mill when the number of turns made by the sails in a minute is six times
the number of feet traversed by the wind in a second. A moderate breeze,
which passes over twenty-four feet to the second, will give sixteen turns
to the sails during a minute, and there is no need of more."

"Exactly!" cried Herbert, "a fine breeze is blowing from the northeast,
which will soon do our business for us."

There was no reason for delaying the inauguration of the mill, for the
settlers were eager to taste the first piece of bread in Lincoln Island. On
this morning two or three bushels of wheat were ground, and the next day at
breakfast a magnificent loaf, a little heavy perhaps, although raised with
yeast, appeared on the table at Granite House. Every one munched away at it
with a pleasure which may be easily understood.

In the meanwhile, the stranger had not reappeared. Several times Gideon
Spilett and Herbert searched the forest in the neighborhood of Granite
House, without meeting or finding any trace of him. They became seriously
uneasy at this prolonged absence. Certainly, the former savage of Tabor
island could not be perplexed how to live in the forest, abounding in game,
but was it not to be feared that he had resumed his habits, and that this
freedom would revive in him his wild instincts? However, Harding, by a sort
of presentiment, doubtless, always persisted in saying that the fugitive
would return.

"Yes, he will return!" he repeated with a confidence which his companions
could not share. "When this unfortunate man was on Tabor Island, he knew
himself to be alone! Here, he knows that fellow-men are awaiting him! Since
he has partially spoken of his past life, the poor penitent will return to
tell the whole, and from that day he will belong to us!"

The event justified Cyrus Harding's predictions. On the 3rd of December,
Herbert had left the plateau to go and fish on the southern bank of the
lake. He was unarmed, and till then had never taken any precautions for
defense, as dangerous animals had not shown themselves on that part of the
island.

Meanwhile, Pencroft and Neb were working in the poultry-yard, while
Harding and the reporter were occupied at the Chimneys in making soda, the
store of soap being exhausted.

Suddenly cries resounded,--

"Help! help!"

Cyrus Harding and the reporter, being at too great a distance, had not
been able to hear the shouts. Pencroft and Neb, leaving the poultry-yard in
all haste, rushed towards the lake.

But before then, the stranger, whose presence at this place no one had
suspected, crossed Creek Glycerine, which separated the plateau from the
forest, and bounded up the opposite bank.

Herbert was there face to face with a fierce jaguar, similar to the one
which had been killed on Reptile End. Suddenly surprised, he was standing
with his back against a tree, while the animal gathering itself together
was about to spring.

But the stranger, with no other weapon than a knife, rushed on the
formidable animal, who turned to meet this new adversary.

The struggle was short. The stranger possessed immense strength and
activity. He seized the jaguar's throat with one powerful hand, holding it
as in a vise, without heeding the beast's claws which tore his flesh, and
with the other he plunged his knife into its heart.

The jaguar fell. The stranger kicked away the body, and was about to fly
at the moment when the settlers arrived on the field of battle, but
Herbert, clinging to him, cried,--

"No, no! you shall not go!"

Harding advanced towards the stranger, who frowned when he saw him
approaching. The blood flowed from his shoulder under his torn shirt, but
he took no notice of it.

"My friend," said Cyrus Harding, "we have just contracted a debt of
gratitude to you. To save our boy you have risked your life!"

"My life!" murmured the stranger. "What is that worth? Less than
nothing!"

"You are wounded?"

"It is no matter."

"Will you give me your hand?"

And as Herbert endeavored to. seize the hand which had just saved him,
the stranger folded his arms, his chest heaved, his look darkened, and he
appeared to wish to escape, but making a violent effort over himself, and
in an abrupt tone,--

"Who are you?" he asked, "and what do you claim to be to me?"

It was the colonists' history which he thus demanded, and for the first
time. Perhaps this history recounted, he would tell his own.

In a few words Harding related all that had happened since their
departure from Richmond; how they had managed, and what resources they now
had at their disposal.

The stranger listened with extreme attention.

Then the engineer told who they all were, Gideon Spilett, Herbert,
Pencroft, Neb, himself, and, he added, that the greatest happiness they had
felt since their arrival in Lincoln Island was on the return of the vessel
from Tabor Island, when they had been able to include among them a new
companion.

At these words the stranger's face flushed, his head sunk on his breast,
and confusion was depicted on his countenance.

"And now that you know us," added Cyrus Harding, "will you give us your
hand?"

"No," replied the, stranger in a hoarse voice; "no! You are honest men!
And I--"

Chapter 17

These last words justified the colonists' presentiment. There had been some
mournful past, perhaps expiated in the sight of men, but from which his
conscience had not yet absolved him. At any rate the guilty man felt
remorse, he repented, and his new friends would have cordially pressed the
hand which they sought; but he did not feel himself worthy to extend it to
honest men! However, alter the scene with the jaguar, he did not return to
the forest, and from that day did not go beyond the enclosure of Granite
House.

What was the mystery of his life? Would the stranger one day speak of it?
Time alone could show. At any rate, it was agreed that his secret should
never be asked from him, and that they would live with him as if they
suspected nothing.

For some days their life continued as before. Cyrus Harding and Gideon
Spilett worked together, sometimes chemists, sometimes experimentalists. The
reporter never left the engineer except to hunt with Herbert, for it would
not have been prudent to allow the lad to ramble alone in the forest; and
it was very necessary to be on their guard. As to Neb and Pencroft, one day
at the stables and poultry-yard, another at the corral, without reckoning
work in Granite House, they were never in want of employment.

The stranger worked alone, and he had resumed his usual life, never
appearing at meals, sleeping under the trees in the plateau, never mingling
with his companions. It really seemed as if the society of those who had
saved him was insupportable to him!

"But then," observed Pencroft, "why did he entreat the help of his
fellow-creatures? Why did he throw that paper into the sea?"

"He will tell us why," invariably replied Cyrus Harding.

"When?"

"Perhaps sooner than you think, Pencroft."

And, indeed, the day of confession was near.

On the 10th of December, a week after his return to Granite House,
Harding saw the stranger approaching, who, in a calm voice and humble tone,
said to him: "Sir, I have a request to make of you."

"Speak," answered the engineer, "but first let me ask you a question."

At these words the stranger reddened, and was on the point of
withdrawing. Cyrus Harding understood what was passing in the mind of the
guilty man, who doubtless feared that the engineer would interrogate him on
his past life.

Harding held him back.

"Comrade," said he, "we are not only your companions but your friends. I
wish you to believe that, and now I will listen to you."

The stranger pressed his hand over his eyes. He was seized with a sort of
trembling, and remained a few moments without being able to articulate a
word.

"Sir," said he at last, "I have come to beg you to grant me a favor."

"What is it?"

"You have, four or five miles from here, a corral for your domesticated
animals. These animals need to be taken care of. Will you allow me to live
there with them?"

Cyrus Harding gazed at the unfortunate man for a few moments with a
feeling of deep commiseration; then,--

"My friend," said he, "the corral has only stables hardly fit for
animals."

"It will be good enough for me, sir."

"My friend," answered Harding, "we will not constrain you in anything.
You wish to live at the corral, so be it. You will, however, be always
welcome at Granite House. But since you wish to live at the corral we will
make the necessary arrangements for your being comfortably established
there."

"Never mind that, I shall do very well."

"My friend," answered Harding, who always intentionally made use of this
cordial appellation, "you must let us judge what it will be best to do in
this respect."

"Thank you, sir," replied the stranger as he withdrew.

The engineer then made known to his companions the proposal which had
been made to him, and it was agreed that they should build a wooden house
at the corral, which they would make as comfortable as possible.

That very day the colonists repaired to the corral with the necessary
tools, and a week had not passed before the house was ready to receive its
tenant. It was built about twenty feet from the sheds, and from there it
was easy to overlook the flock of sheep, which then numbered more than
eighty. Some furniture, a bed, table, bench, cupboard, and chest were
manufactured, and a gun, ammunition, and tools were carried to the corral.

The stranger, however, had seen nothing of his new dwelling, and he had
allowed the settlers to work there without him, while he occupied himself
on the plateau, wishing, doubtless, to put the finishing stroke to his
work. Indeed, thanks to him, all the ground was dug up and ready to he
sowed when the time came.

It was on the 20th of December that all the arrangements at the corral
were completed. The engineer announced to the stranger that his dwelling
was ready to receive him, and the latter replied that he would go and sleep
there that very evening.

On this evening the colonists were gathered in the diningroom of Granite
House. It was then eight o'clock, the hour at which their companion was to
leave them. Not wishing to trouble him by their presence, and thus imposing
on him the necessity of saying farewells which might perhaps be painful to
him, they had left him alone and ascended to Granite House.

Now, they had been talking in the room for a few minutes, when a light
knock was heard at the door. Almost immediately the stranger entered, and
without any preamble,--

"Gentlemen," said he, "before I leave you, it is right that you should
know my history. I will tell it you."

These simple words profoundly impressed Cyrus Harding and his companions.
The engineer rose.

"We ask you nothing, my friend," said he; "it is your right to be
silent."

"It is my duty to speak."

"Sit down, then."

"No, I will stand."

"We are ready to hear you," replied Harding.

The stranger remained standing in a corner of the room, a little in the
shade. He was bareheaded, his arms folded across his chest, and it was in
this posture that in a hoarse voice, speaking like some one who obliges
himself to speak, he gave the following recital, which his auditors did not
once interrupt:--

"On the 20th of December, 1854, a steam-yacht, belonging to a Scotch
nobleman, Lord Glenarvan, anchored off Cape Bernouilli, on the western
coast of Australia, in the thirty-seventh parallel. On board this yacht
were Lord Glenarvan and his wife, a major in the English army, a French
geographer, a young girl, and a young boy. These two last were the children
of Captain Grant, whose ship, the 'Britannia,' had been lost, crew and
cargo, a year before. The 'Duncan' was commanded by Captain John Mangles,
and manned by a crew of fifteen men.

"This is the reason the yacht at this time lay off the coast of
Australia. Six months before, a bottle, enclosing a document written in
English, German, and French, had been found in the Irish Sea, and picked up
by the 'Duncan.' This document stated in substance that there still existed
three survivors from the wreck of the 'Britannia,' that these survivors
were Captain Grant and two of his men, and that they had found refuge on
some land, of which the document gave the latitude, but of which the
longitude, effaced by the sea, was no longer legible.

"This latitude was 37� 11' south; therefore, the longitude being unknown,
if they followed the thirty-seventh parallel over continents and seas, they
would be certain to reach the spot inhabited by Captain Grant and his two
companions. The English Admiralty having hesitated to undertake this
search, Lord Glenarvan resolved to attempt everything to find the captain.
He communicated with Mary and Robert Grant, who joined him. The 'Duncan'
yacht was equipped for the distant voyage, in which the nobleman's family
and the captain's children wished to take part, and the 'Duncan,' leaving
Glasgow, proceeded towards the Atlantic, passed through the Straits of
Magellan, and ascended the Pacific as far as Patagonia, where, according to
a previous interpretation of the document, they supposed that Captain Grant
was a prisoner among the Indians.

"The 'Duncan' disembarked her passengers on the western coast of
Patagonia, and sailed to pick them up again on the eastern coast at Cape
Corrientes. Lord Glenarvan traversed Patagonia, following the thirty-
seventh parallel, and having found no trace of the captain, he re-embarked
on the 13th of November, so as to pursue his search through the Ocean.

"After having unsuccessfully visited the islands of Tristan d'Acunha and
Amsterdam, situated in her course, the 'Duncan,' as I have said, arrived at
Cape Bernouilli, on the Australian coast, on the 20th of December, 1854.

"It was Lord Glenarvan's intention to traverse Australia as he had
traversed America, and he disembarked. A few miles from the coast was
established a farm, belonging to an Irishman, who offered hospitality to
the travelers. Lord Glenarvan made known to the Irishman the cause which
had brought him to these parts, and asked if he knew whether a three-masted
English vessel, the 'Britannia,' had been lost less than two years before
on the west coast of Australia.

"The Irishman had never heard of this wreck, but, to the great surprise
of the bystanders, one of his servants came forward and said,--

"'My lord, praise and thank God! If Captain Grant is still living, he is
living on the Australian shores.'

"'Who are you?' asked Lord Glenarvan.

"'A Scotchman like yourself, my lord,' replied the man; 'I am one of
Captain Grant's crew--one of the castaways of the "Britannia."'

"This man was called Ayrton. He was, in fact, the boatswain's mate of the
'Britannia,' as his papers showed. But, separated from Captain Grant at the
moment when the ship struck upon the rocks, he had till then believed that
the captain with all his crew had perished, and that he, Ayrton, was the
sole survivor of the 'Britannia.'

"'Only,' he added, 'it was not on the west coast, but on the east coast
of Australia that the vessel was lost, and if Captain Grant is still
living, as his document indicates, he is a prisoner among the natives, and
it is on the other coast that he must be looked for.'

"This man spoke in a frank voice and with a confident look; his words
could not be doubted. The irishman, in whose service he had been for more
than a year, answered for his trustworthiness. Lord Glenarvan, therefore,
believed in the fidelity of this man and, by his advice, resolved to cross
Australia, following the thirty-seventh parallel. Lord Glenarvan, his wife,
the two children, the major, the Frenchman, Captain Mangles, and a few
sailors composed the little band under the command of Ayrton, while the
'Duncan,' under charge of the mate, Tom Austin, proceeded to Melbourne,
there to await Lord Glenarvan's instructions.

"They set out on the 23rd of December, 1854.

"It is time to say that Ayrton was a traitor. He was, indeed, the
boatswain's mate of the 'Britannia,' but, after some dispute with his
captain, he endeavored to incite the crew to mutiny and seize the ship, and
Captain Grant had landed him, on the 8th of April, 1852, on the west coast
of Australia, and then sailed, leaving him there, as was only just.

"Therefore this wretched man knew nothing of the wreck of the
'Britannia'; he had just heard of it from Glenarvan's account. Since his
abandonment, he had become, under the name of Ben Joyce, the leader of the
escaped convicts; and if he boldly maintained that the wreck had taken
place on the east coast, and led Lord Glenarvan to proceed in that
direction, it was that he hoped to separate him from his ship, seize the
'Duncan,' and make the yacht a pirate in the Pacific."

Here the stranger stopped for a moment. His voice trembled, but he
continued,--

"The expedition set out and proceeded across Australia. It was inevitably
unfortunate, since Ayrton, or Ben Joyce, as he may be called, guided it,
sometimes preceded, sometimes followed by his band of convicts, who had
been told what they had to do.

"Meanwhile, the 'Duncan' had been sent to Melbourne for repairs. It was
necessary, then, to get Lord Glenarvan to order her to leave Melbourne and
go to the east coast of Australia, where it would be easy to seize her.
After having led the expedition near enough to the coast, in the midst of
vast forests with no resources, Ayrton obtained a letter, which he was
charged to carry to the mate of the 'Duncan'--a letter which ordered the
yacht to repair immediately to the east coast, to Twofold Bay, that is to
say a few days' journey from the place where the expedition had stopped. It
was there that Ayrton had agreed to meet his accomplices, and two days
after gaining possession of the letter, he arrived at Melbourne.

"So far the villain had succeeded in his wicked design. He would be able
to take the 'Duncan' into Twofold Bay, where it would be easy for the
convicts to seize her, and her crew massacred, Ben Joyce would become
master of the seas. But it pleased God to prevent the accomplishment of
these terrible projects.

"Ayrton, arrived at Melbourne, delivered the letter to the mate, Tom
Austin, who read it and immediately set sail, but judge of Ayrton's rage
and disappointment, when the next day he found that the mate was taking the
vessel, not to the east coast of Australia, to Twofold Bay, but to the east
coast of New Zealand. He wished to stop him, but Austin showed him the
letter!... And indeed, by a providential error of the French geographer,
who had written the letter, the east coast of New Zealand was mentioned as
the place of destination.

"All Ayrton's plans were frustrated! He became outrageous. They put him
in irons. He was then taken to the coast of New Zealand, not knowing what
would become of his accomplices, or what would become of Lord Glenarvan.

"The 'Duncan' cruised about on this coast until the 3rd of March. On that
day Ayrton heard the report of guns. The guns on the 'Duncan' were being
fired, and soon Lord Glenarvan and his companions came on board.

"This is what had happened.

"After a thousand hardships, a thousand dangers, Lord Glenarvan had
accomplished his journey, and arrived on the east coast of Australia, at
Twofold Bay. 'No "Duncan!" ' He telegraphed to Melbourne. They answered, '
"Duncan" sailed on the 18th instant. Destination unknown.'

"Lord Glenarvan could only arrive at one conclusion; that his honest
yacht had fallen into the hands of Ben Joyce, and had become a pirate
vessel!

"However, Lord Glenarvan would not give up. He was a bold and generous
man. He embarked in a merchant vessel, sailed to the west coast of New
Zealand, traversed it along the thirty-seventh parallel, without finding
any trace of Captain Grant; but on the other side, to his great surprise,
and by the will of Heaven, he found the 'Duncan,' under command of the
mate, who had been waiting for him for five weeks!

"This was on the 3rd of March, 1855. Lord Glenarvan was now on board the
'Duncan,' but Ayrton was there also. He appeared before the nobleman, who
wished to extract from him all that the villain knew about Captain Grant.
Ayrton refused to speak. Lord Glenarvan then told him, that at the first
port they put into, he would be delivered up to the English authorities.
Ayrton remained mute.

"The 'Duncan' continued her voyage along the thirty-seventh parallel. In
the meanwhile, Lady Glenarvan undertook to vanquish the resistance of the
ruffian.

"At last, her influence prevailed, and Ayrton, in exchange for what he
could tell, proposed that Lord Glenarvan should leave him on some island in
the Pacific, instead of giving him up to the English authorities. Lord
Glenarvan, resolving to do anything to obtain information about Captain
Grant, consented.

"Ayrton then related all his life, and it was certain that he knew
nothing from the day on which Captain Grant had landed him on the
Australian coast.

"Nevertheless, Lord Glenarvan kept the promise which he had given. The
'Duncan' continued her voyage and arrived at Tabor Island. It was there
that Ayrton was to be landed, and it was there also that, by a veritable
miracle, they found Captain Grant and two men, exactly on the thirty-
seventh parallel.

"The convict, then, went to take their place on this desert islet, and at
the moment he left the yacht these words were pronounced by Lord
Glenarvan:--

"'Here, Ayrton, you will be far from any land, and without any possible
communication with your fellow-creatures. You can-not escape from this
islet on which the 'Duncan' leaves you. You will be alone, under the eye of
a God who reads the depths of the heart, but you will be neither lost nor
forgotten, as was Captain Grant. Unworthy as you are to be remembered by
men, men will remember you. I know where you are Ayrton, and I know where
to find you. I will never forget it!

"And the 'Duncan,' making sail, soon disappeared. This was 18th of March,
1855.

(The events which have just been briefly related are taken from a

work which some of our readers have no doubt read, and which is

entitled, "Captain Grant's children." They will remark on this

occasion, as well as later, some discrepancy in the dates; but

later again, they will understand why the real dates were not at

first given.)

"Ayrton was alone, but he had no want of either ammunition, weapons,
tools, or seeds.

"At his, the convict's disposal, was the house built by honest Captain
Grant. He had only to live and expiate in solitude the crimes which he had
committed.

"Gentlemen, he repented, he was ashamed of his crimes and was very
miserable! He said to himself, that if men came some day to take him from
that islet, he must be worthy to return among them! How he suffered, that
wretched man! How he labored to recover himself by work! How he prayed to
be reformed by prayer! For two years, three years, this went on, but
Ayrton, humbled by solitude, always looking for some ship to appear on the
horizon, asking himself if the time of expiation would soon be complete,
suffered as none other suffered! Oh! how dreadful was this solitude, to a
heart tormented by remorse!

"But doubtless Heaven had not sufficiently punished this unhappy man, for
he felt that he was gradually becoming a savage! He felt that brutishness
was gradually gaining on him!

"He could not say if it was after two or three years of solitude, but at
last he became the miserable creature you found!

"I have no need to tell you, gentlemen, that Ayrton, Ben Joyce, and I,
are the same."

Cyrus Harding and his companions rose at the end of this account. It is
impossible to say how much they were moved! What misery, grief, and despair
lay revealed before them!

"Ayrton," said Harding, rising, "you have been a great criminal, but
Heaven must certainly think that you have expiated your crimes! That has
been proved by your having been brought again among your fellow-creatures.
Ayrton, you are forgiven! And now you will be our companion?"

Ayrton drew back.

"Here is my hand!" said the engineer.

Ayrton grasped the hand which Harding extended to him, and great tears
fell from his eyes.

"Will you live with us?" asked Cyrus Harding.

"Captain Harding, leave me some time longer," replied Ayrton, "leave me
alone in the hut in the corral!"

"As you like, Ayrton," answered Cyrus Harding. Ayrton was going to
withdraw, when the engineer addressed one more question to him:--

"One word more, my friend. Since it was your intention to live alone, why
did you throw into the sea the document which put us on your track?"

"A document?" repeated Ayrton, who did not appear to know what he meant.

"Yes, the document which we found enclosed in a bottle, giving us the
exact position of Tabor Island!"

Ayrton passed his hand over his brow, then after having thought, "I never
threw any document into the sea!" he answered.

"Never?" exclaimed Pencroft.

"Never!"

And Ayrton, bowing, reached the door and departed.

Chapter 8

"Poor man!" said Herbert, who had rushed to the door, but returned, having
seen Ayrton slide down the rope on the lift and disappear in the darkness.

"He will come back," said Cyrus Harding.

"Come, now, captain," exclaimed Pencroft, "what does that mean? What!
wasn't it Ayrton who threw that bottle into the sea? Who was it then?"

Certainly, if ever a question was necessary to be made, it was that one!

"It was he," answered Neb, "only the unhappy man was half-mad."

"Yes!" said Herbert, "and he was no longer conscious of what he was
doing."

"It can only be explained in that way, my friends," replied Harding
quickly, "and I understand now how Ayrton was able to point out exactly the
situation of Tabor Island, since the events which had preceded his being
left on the island had made it known to him."

"However," observed Pencroft, "if he was not yet a brute when he wrote
that document, and if he threw it into the sea seven or eight years ago,
how is it that the paper has not been injured by damp?"

"That proves," answered Cyrus Harding, "that Ayrton was deprived of
intelligence at a more recent time than he thinks."

"Of course it must be so," replied Pencroft, "without that the fact would
be unaccountable."

"Unaccountable indeed," answered the engineer, who did not appear
desirous to prolong the conversation.

"But has Ayrton told the truth?" asked the sailor.

"Yes," replied the reporter. "The story which he has told is true in
every point. I remember quite well the account in the newspapers of the
yacht expedition undertaken by Lord Glenarvan, and its result."

"Ayrton has told the truth," added Harding. "Do not doubt it, Pencroft,
for it was painful to him. People tell the truth when they accuse
themselves like that!"

The next day--the 21st of December--the colonists descended to the beach,
and having climbed the plateau they found nothing of Ayrton. He had reached
his house in the corral during the night and the settlers judged it best
not to agitate him by their presence. Time would doubtless perform what
sympathy had been unable to accomplish.

Herbert, Pencroft, and Neb resumed their ordinary occupations. On this
day the same work brought Harding and the reporter to the workshop at the
Chimneys.

"Do you know, my dear Cyrus," said Gideon Spilett, "that the explanation
you gave yesterday on the subject of the bottle has not satisfied me at
all! How can it be supposed that the unfortunate man was able to write that
document and throw the bottle into the sea without having the slightest
recollection of it?"

"Nor was it he who threw it in, my dear Spilett."

"You think then--"

"I think nothing, I know nothing!" interrupted Cyrus Harding. "I am
content to rank this incident among those which I have not been able to
explain to this day!"

"Indeed, Cyrus," said Spilett, "these things are incredible! Your rescue,
the case stranded on the sand, Top's adventure, and lastly this bottle...
Shall we never have the answer to these enigmas?"

"Yes!" replied the engineer quickly, "yes, even if I have to penetrate
into the bowels of this island!"

"Chance will perhaps give us the key to this mystery!"

"Chance! Spilett! I do not believe in chance, any more than I believe in
mysteries in this world. There is a reason for everything unaccountable
which has happened here, and that reason I shall discover. But in the
meantime we must work and observe."

The month of January arrived. The year 1867 commenced. The summer
occupations were assiduously continued. During the days which followed,
Herbert and Spilett having gone in the direction of the corral, ascertained
that Ayrton had taken possession of the habitation which had been prepared
for him. He busied himself with the numerous flock confided to his care,
and spared his companions the trouble of coming every two or three days to
visit the corral. Nevertheless, in order not to leave Ayrton in solitude
for too long a time, the settlers often paid him a visit.

It was not unimportant either, in consequence of some suspicions
entertained by the engineer and Gideon Spilett, that this part of the
island should be subject to a surveillance of some sort, and that Ayrton,
if any incident occurred unexpectedly, should not neglect to inform the
inhabitants of Granite House of it.

Nevertheless it might happen that something would occur which it would be
necessary to bring rapidly to the engineer's knowledge. Independently of
facts bearing on the mystery of Lincoln Island, many others might happen,
which would call for the prompt interference of the colonists,--such as the
sighting of a vessel, a wreck on the western coast, the possible arrival of
pirates, etc.

Therefore Cyrus Harding resolved to put the corral in instantaneous
communication with Granite House.

It was on the 10th of January that he made known his project to his
companions.

"Why! how are you going to manage that, captain?" asked Pencroft. "Do you
by chance happen to think of establishing a telegraph?"

"Exactly so," answered the engineer.

"Electric?" cried Herbert.

"Electric," replied Cyrus Harding. "We have all the necessary materials
for making a battery, and the most difficult thing will be to stretch the
wires, but by means of a drawplate I think we shall manage it."

"Well, after that," returned the sailor, "I shall never despair of seeing
ourselves some day rolling along on a railway!"

They then set to work, beginning with the most difficult thing, for, if
they failed in that, it would be useless to manufacture the battery and
other accessories.

The iron of Lincoln Island, as has been said, was of excellent quality,
and consequently very fit for being drawn out. Harding commenced by
manufacturing a drawplate, that is to say, a plate of steel, pierced with
conical holes of different sizes, which would successively bring the wire
to the wished-for tenacity. This piece of steel, after having been
tempered, was fixed in as firm a way as possible in a solid framework
planted in the ground, only a few feet from the great fall, the motive
power of which the engineer intended to utilize. In fact as the fulling-
mill was there, although not then in use, its beam moved with extreme power
would serve to stretch out the wire by rolling it round itself. It was a
delicate operation, and required much care. The iron, prepared previously
in long thin rods, the ends of which were sharpened with the file, having
been introduced into the largest hole of the drawplate, was drawn out by
the beam which wound it round itself, to a length of twenty-five or thirty
feet, then unrolled, and the same operation was performed successively
through the holes of a less size. Finally, the engineer obtained wires from
forty to fifty feet long, which could be easily fastened together and
stretched over the distance of five miles, which separated the corral from
the bounds of Granite House.

It did not take more than a few days to perform this work, and indeed as
soon as the machine had been commenced, Cyrus Harding left his companions
to follow the trade of wiredrawers, and occupied himself with manufacturing
his battery.

It was necessary to obtain a battery with a constant current. It is known
that the elements of modern batteries are generally composed of retort
coal, zinc, and copper. Copper was absolutely wanting to the engineer, who,
notwithstanding all his researches, had never been able to find any trace
of it in Lincoln Island, and was therefore obliged to do without it. Retort
coal, that is to say, the hard graphite which is found in the retorts of
gas manufactories, after the coal has been dehydrogenized, could have been
obtained, but it would have been necessary to establish a special
apparatus, involving great labor. As to zinc, it may be remembered that the
case found at Flotsam Point was lined with this metal, which could not be
better utilized than for this purpose.

Cyrus Harding, after mature consideration, decided to manufacture a very
simple battery, resembling as nearly as possible that invented by Becquerel
in 1820, and in which zinc only is employed. The other substances, azotic
acid and potash, were all at his disposal.

The way in which the battery was composed was as follows, and the results
were to be attained by the reaction of acid and potash on each other. A
number of glass bottles were made and filled with azotic acid. The engineer
corked them by means of a stopper through which passed a glass tube, bored
at its lower extremity, and intended to be plunged into the acid by means
of a clay stopper secured by a rag. Into this tube, through its upper
extremity, he poured a solution of potash, previously obtained by burning
and reducing to ashes various plants, and in this way the acid and potash
could act on each other through the clay.

Cyrus Harding then took two slips of zinc, one of which was plunged into
azotic acid, the other into a solution of potash. A current was immediately
produced, which was transmitted from the slip of zinc in the bottle to that
in the tube, and the two slips having been connected by a metallic wire the
slip in the tube became the positive pole, and that in the bottle the
negative pole of the apparatus. Each bottle, therefore, produced as many
currents as united would be sufficient to produce all the phenomena of the
electric telegraph. Such was the ingenious and very simple apparatus
constructed by Cyrus Harding, an apparatus which would allow them to
establish a telegraphic communication between Granite House and the corral.

On the 6th of February was commenced the planting along the road to the
corral, of posts furnished with glass insulators, and intended to support
the wire. A few days after, the wire was extended, ready to produce the
electric current at a rate of twenty thousand miles a second.

Two batteries had been manufactured, one for Granite House, the other for
the corral; for if it was necessary the corral should be able to
communicate with Granite House it might also be useful that Granite House
should be able to communicate with the corral.

As to the receiver and manipulator, they were very simple. At the two
stations the wire was wound round a magnet, that is to say, round a piece
of soft iron surrounded with a wire. The communication was thus established
between the two poles; the current, starting from the positive pole,
traversed the wire, passed through the magnet which was temporarily
magnetized, and returned through the earth to the negative pole. If the
current was interrupted, the magnet immediately became unmagnetized. It was
sufficient to place a plate of soft iron before the magnet, which,
attracted during the passage of the current, would fall back when the
current was interrupted. This movement of the plate thus obtained, Harding
could easily fasten to it a needle arranged on a dial, bearing the letters
of the alphabet, and in this way communicate from one station to the other.

All was completely arranged by the 12th of February. On this day,
Harding, having sent the current through the wire, asked if all was going
on well at the corral, and received in a few moments a satisfactory reply
from Ayrton. Pencroft was wild with joy, and every morning and evening he
sent a telegram to the corral, which always received an answer.

This mode of communication presented two very real advantages: firstly,
because it enabled them to ascertain that Ayrton was at the corral; and
secondly, that he was thus not left completely isolated. Besides, Cyrus
Harding never allowed a week to pass without going to see him, and Ayrton
came from time to time to Granite House, where he always found a cordial
welcome.

The fine season passed away in the midst of the usual work. The resources
of the colony, particularly in vegetables and corn, increased from day to
day, and the plants brought from Tabor Island had succeeded perfectly.

The plateau of Prospect Heights presented an encouraging aspect. The
fourth harvest had been admirable and it may be supposed that no one
thought of counting whether the four hundred thousand millions of grains
duly appeared in the crop. However, Pencroft had thought of doing so, but
Cyrus Harding having told him that even if he managed to count three
hundred grains a minute, or nine thousand an hour, it would take him nearly
five thousand five-hundred years to finish his task, the honest sailor
considered it best to give up the idea.

The weather was splendid, the temperature very warm in the day time, but
in the evening the sea-breezes tempered the heat of the atmosphere and
procured cool nights for the inhabitants of Granite House. There were,
however, a few storms, which, although they were not of long duration,
swept over Lincoln Island with extraordinary fury. The lightning blazed and
the thunder continued to roll for some hours.

At this period the little colony was extremely prosperous.

The tenants of the poultry-yard swarmed, and they lived on the surplus,
but it became necessary to reduce the population to a more moderate number.
The pigs had already produced young, and it may be understood that their
care for these animals absorbed a great part of Neb and Pencroft's time.
The onagers, who had two pretty colts, were most often mounted by Gideon
Spilett and Herbert, who had become an excellent rider under the reporter's
instruction, and they also harnessed them to the cart either for carrying
wood and coal to Granite House, or different mineral productions required
by the engineer.

Several expeditions were made about this time into the depths of the Far
West Forests. The explorers could venture there without having anything to
fear from the heat, for the sun's rays scarcely penetrated through the
thick foliage spreading above their heads. They thus visited all the left
bank of the Mercy, along which ran the road from the corral to the mouth of
Falls River.

But in these excursions the settlers took care to be well armed, for they
met with savage wild boars, with which they often had a tussle. They also,
during this season, made fierce war against the jaguars. Gideon Spilett had
vowed a special hatred against them, and his pupil Herbert seconded him
well. Armed as they were, they no longer feared to meet one of those
beasts. Herbert's courage was superb, and the reporter's sang-froid
astonishing. Already twenty magnificent skins ornamented the dining-room of
Granite House, and if this continued, the jaguar race would soon be extinct
in the island, the object aimed at by the hunters.

The engineer sometimes took part in the expeditions made to the unknown
parts of the island, which he surveyed with great attention. It was for
other traces than those of animals that he searched the thickets of the
vast forest, but nothing suspicious ever appeared. Neither Top nor Jup, who
accompanied him, ever betrayed by their behavior that there was anything
strange there, and yet more than once again the dog barked at the mouth of
the well, which the engineer had before explored without result.

At this time Gideon Spilett, aided by Herbert, took several views of the
most picturesque parts of the island, by means of the photographic
apparatus found in the cases, and of which they had not as yet made any
use.

This apparatus, provided with a powerful object-glass, was very complete.
Substances necessary for the photographic reproduction, collodion for
preparing the glass plate, nitrate of silver to render it sensitive,
hyposulfate of soda to fix the prints obtained, chloride of ammonium in
which to soak the paper destined to give the positive proof, acetate of
soda and chloride of gold in which to immerse the paper, nothing was
wanting. Even the papers were there, all prepared, and before laying in the
printing-frame upon the negatives, it was sufficient to soak them for a few
minutes in the solution of nitrate of silver.

The reporter and his assistant became in a short time very skilful
operators, and they obtained fine views of the country, such as the island,
taken from Prospect Heights with Mount Franklin in the distance, the mouth
of the Mercy, so picturesquely framed in high rocks, the glade and the
corral, with the spurs of the mountain in the background, the curious
development of Claw Cape, Flotsam Point, etc.

Nor did the photographers forget to take the portraits of all the
inhabitants of the island, leaving out no one.

"It multiplies us," said Pencroft.

And the sailor was enchanted to see his own countenance, faithfully
reproduced, ornamenting the walls of Granite House, and he stopped as
willingly before this exhibition as he would have done before the richest
shop-windows in Broadway.

But it must be acknowledged that the most successful portrait was
incontestably that of Master Jup. Master Jup had sat with a gravity not to
be described, and his portrait was lifelike!

"He looks as if he was just going to grin!" exclaimed Pencroft.

And if Master Jup had not been satisfied, he would have been very
difficult to please; but he was quite contented and contemplated his own
countenance with a sentimental air which expressed some small amount of
conceit.

The summer heat ended with the month of March. The weather was sometimes
rainy, but still warm. The month of March, which corresponds to the
September of northern latitudes, was not so fine as might have been hoped.
Perhaps it announced an early and rigorous winter.

It might have been supposed one morning--the 21 st--that the first snow
had already made its appearance. In fact Herbert looking early from one of
the windows of Granite House, exclaimed,--

"Hallo! the islet is covered with snow!"

"Snow at this time?" answered the reporter, joining the boy.

Their companions were soon beside them, but could only ascertain one
thing, that not only the islet but all the beach below Granite House was
covered with one uniform sheet of white.

"It must be snow!" said Pencroft.

"Or rather it's very like it!" replied Neb.

"But the thermometer marks fifty-eight degrees!" observed Gideon Spilett.

Cyrus Harding gazed at the sheet of white without saying anything, for he
really did not know how to explain this phenomenon, at this time of year
and in such a temperature.

"By Jove!" exclaimed Pencroft, "all our plants will be frozen!"

And the sailor was about to descend, when he was preceded by the nimble
Jup, who slid down to the sand.

But the orang had not touched the ground, when the snowy sheet arose and
dispersed in the air in such innumerable flakes that the light of the sun
was obscured for some minutes.

"Birds!" cried Herbert.

They were indeed swarms of sea-birds, with dazzling white plumage. They
had perched by thousands on the islet and on the shore, and they
disappeared in the distance, leaving the colonists amazed as if they had
been present at some transformation scene, in which summer succeeded winter
at the touch of a fairy's wand. Unfortunately the change had been so
sudden, that neither the reporter nor the lad had been able to bring down
one of these birds, of which they could not recognize the species.

A few days after came the 26th of March, the day on which, two years
before, the castaways from the air had been thrown upon Lincoln Island.

Chapter 19

Two years already! and for two years the colonists had had no communication
with their fellow-creatures! They were without news from the civilized
world, lost on this island, as completely as if they had been on the most
minute star of the celestial hemisphere!

What was now happening in their country? The picture of their native land
was always before their eyes, the land torn by civil war at the time they
left it, and which the Southern rebellion was perhaps still staining with
blood! It was a great sorrow to them, and they often talked together of
these things, without ever doubting however that the cause of the North
must triumph, for the honor of the American Confederation.

During these two years not a vessel had passed in sight of the island;
or, at least, not a sail had been seen. It was evident that Lincoln Island
was out of the usual track, and also that it was unknown,--as was besides
proved by the maps,--for though there was no port, vessels might have
visited it for the purpose of renewing their store of water. But the
surrounding ocean was deserted as far as the eye could reach, and the
colonists must rely on themselves for regaining their native land.

However, one chance of rescue existed, and this chance was discussed one
day on the first week of April, when the colonists were gathered together
in the dining-room of Granite House.

They had been talking of America, of their native country, which they had
so little hope of ever seeing again.

"Decidedly we have only one way, said Spilett, "one single way for
leaving Lincoln Island, and that is, to build a vessel large enough to sail
several hundred miles. It appears to me, that when one has built a boat it
is just as easy to build a ship!"

"And in which we might go to the Pomoutous," added Herbert, "just as
easily as we went to Tabor Island."

"I do not say no," replied Pencroft, who had always the casting vote in
maritime questions; "I do not say no, although it is not exactly the same
thing to make a long as a short voyage! If our little craft had been caught
in any heavy gale of wind during the voyage to Tabor Island, we should have
known that land was at no great distance either way; but twelve hundred
miles is a pretty long way, and the nearest land is at least that
distance!"

"Would you not, in that case, Pencroft, attempt the adventure?" asked the
reporter.

"I will attempt anything that is desired, Mr. Spilett," answered the
sailor, "and you know well that I am not a man to flinch!"

"Remember, besides, that we number another sailor amongst us now,"
remarked Neb.

"Who is that?" asked Pencroft.

"Ayrton."

"If he will consent to come," said Pencroft.

"Nonsense!" returned the reporter; "do you think that if Lord Glenarvan's
yacht had appeared at Tabor Island, while he was still living there, Ayrton
would have refused to depart?"

"You forget, my friends," then said Cyrus Harding, "that Ayrton was not
in possession of his reason during the last years of his stay there. But
that is not the question. The point is to know if we may count among our
chances of being rescued, the return of the Scotch vessel. Now, Lord
Glenarvan promised Ayrton that he would return to take him off from Tabor
Island when he considered that his crimes were expiated, and I believe that
he will return."

"Yes," said the reporter, "and I will add that he will return soon, for
it is twelve years since Ayrton was abandoned."

"Well!" answered Pencroft, "I agree with you that the nobleman will
return, and soon too. But where will he touch? At Tabor Island, and not at
Lincoln Island."

"That is the more certain," replied Herbert, "as Lincoln Island is not
even marked on the map."

"Therefore, my friends," said the engineer, "we ought to take the
necessary precautions for making our presence and that of Ayrton on Lincoln
Island known at Tabor Island."

"Certainly," answered the reporter, "and nothing is easier than to place
in the hut, which was Captain Grant's and Ayrton's dwelling, a notice which
Lord Glenarvan and his crew cannot help finding, giving the position of our
island."

"It is a pity," remarked the sailor, "that we forgot to take that
precaution on our first visit to Tabor Island."

"And why should we have done it?" asked Herbert. "At that time we did not
know Ayrton's history; we did not know that any one was likely to come some
day to fetch him, and when we did know his history, the season was too
advanced to allow us to return then to Tabor Island."

"Yes," replied Harding, "it was too late, and we must put off the voyage
until next spring."

"But suppose the Scotch yacht comes before that," said Pencroft.

"That is not probable," replied the engineer, "for Lord Glenarvan would
not choose the winter season to venture into these seas. Either he has
already returned to Tabor Island, since Ayrton has been with us, that is to
say, during the last five months and has left again; or he will not come
till later, and it will be time enough in the first fine October days to go
to Tabor Island, and leave a notice there."

"We must allow," said Neb, "that it will be very unfortunate if the
'Duncan' has returned to these parts only a few months ago!"

"I hope that it is not so," replied Cyrus Harding, "and that Heaven has
not deprived us of the best chance which remains to us."

"I think," observed the reporter, "that at any rate we shall know what we
have to depend on when we have been to Tabor Island, for if the yacht has
returned there, they will necessarily have left some traces of their
visit."

"That is evident," answered the engineer. "So then, my friends, since we
have this chance of returning to our country, we must wait patiently, and
if it is taken from us we shall see what will be best to do."

"At any rate," remarked Pencroft, "it is well understood that if we do
leave Lincoln Island, it will not be because we were uncomfortable there!"

"No, Pencroft," replied the engineer, "it will be because we are far from
all that a man holds dearest in the world, his family, his friends, his
native land!"

Matters being thus decided, the building of a vessel large enough to sail
either to the Archipelagoes in the north, or to New Zealand in the west, was
no longer talked of, and they busied themselves in their accustomed
occupations, with a view to wintering a third time in Granite House.

However, it was agreed that before the stormy weather came on, their
little vessel should be employed in making a voyage round the island. A
complete survey of the coast had not yet been made, and the colonists had
but an imperfect idea of the shore to the west and north, from the mouth of
Falls River to the Mandible Capes, as well as of the narrow bay between
them, which opened like a shark's jaws.

The plan of this excursion was proposed by Pencroft, and Cyrus Harding
fully acquiesced in it, for he himself wished to see this part of his
domain.

The weather was variable, but the barometer did not fluctuate by sudden
movements, and they could therefore count on tolerable weather. However,
during the first week of April, after a sudden barometrical fall, a renewed
rise was marked by a heavy gale of wind, lasting five or six days; then the
needle of the instrument remained stationary at a height of twenty-nine
inches and nine-tenths, and the weather appeared propitious for an
excursion.

The departure was fixed for the 16th of April, and the 'Bonadventure,"
anchored in Port Balloon, was provisioned for a voyage which might be of
some duration.

Cyrus Harding informed Ayrton of the projected expedition, and proposed
that he should take part in it, but Ayrton preferring to remain on shore,
it was decided that he should come to Granite House during the absence of
his companions. Master Jup was ordered to keep him company, and made no
remonstrance.

On the morning of the 16th of April all the colonists, including Top,
embarked. A fine breeze blew from the south-west, and the 'Bonadventure"
tacked on leaving Port Balloon so as to reach Reptile End. Of the ninety
miles which the perimeter of the island measured, twenty included the south
coast between the port and the promontory. The wind being right ahead it
was necessary to hug the shore.

It took the whole day to reach the promontory, for the vessel on leaving
pon had only two hours of ebb tide and had therefore to make way for six
hours against the flood. It was nightfall before the promontory was
doubled.

The sailor then proposed to the engineer that they should continue
sailing slowly with two reefs in the sail. But Harding preferred to anchor
a few cable-lengths from the shore, so as to survey that part of the coast
during the day. It was agreed also that as they were anxious for a minute
exploration of the coast they should not sail during the night, but would
always, when the weather permitted it, be at anchor near the shore.

The night was passed under the promontory, and the wind having fallen,
nothing disturbed the silence. The passengers, with the exception of the
sailor, scarcely slept as well on board the "Bonadventure" as they would
have done in their rooms at Granite House, but they did sleep however.
Pencroft set sail at break of day, and by going on the larboard tack they
could keep close to the shore.

The colonists knew this beautiful wooded coast, since they had already
explored it on foot, and yet it again excited their admiration. They
coasted along as close in as possible, so as to notice everything, avoiding
always the trunks of trees which floated here and there. Several times also
they anchored, and Gideon Spilett took photographs of the superb scenery.

About noon the 'Bonadventure" arrived at the mouth of Falls River.
Beyond, on the left bank, a few scattered trees appeared, and three miles
further even these dwindled into solitary groups among the western spurs of
the mountain, whose arid ridge sloped down to the shore.

What a contrast between the northern and southern part of the coast! In
proportion as one was woody and fertile so was the other rugged and barren!
It might have been designated as one of those iron coasts, as they are
called in some countries, and its wild confusion appeared to indicate that
a sudden crystallization had been produced in the yet liquid basalt of some
distant geological sea. These stupendous masses would have terrified the
settlers if they had been cast at first on this part of the island! They
had not been able to perceive the sinister aspect of this shore from the
summit of Mount Franklin, for they overlooked it from too great a height,
but viewed from the sea it presented a wild appearance which could not
perhaps be equaled in any corner of the globe.

The "Bonadventure" sailed along this coast for the distance of half a
mile. It was easy to see that it was composed of blocks of all sizes, from
twenty to three hundred feet in height, and of all shapes, round like
towers, prismatic like steeples, pyramidal like obelisks, conical like
factory chimneys. An iceberg of the Polar seas could not have been more
capricious in its terrible sublimity! Here, bridges were thrown from one
rock to another; there, arches like those of a wave, into the depths of
which the eye could not penetrate; in one place, large vaulted excavations
presented a monumental aspect; in another, a crowd of columns, spires, and
arches, such as no Gothic cathedral ever possessed. Every caprice of
nature, still more varied than those of the imagination, appeared on this
grand coast, which extended over a length of eight or nine miles.

Cyrus Harding and his companions gazed, with a feeling of surprise
bordering on stupefaction. But, although they remained silent, Top, not
being troubled with feelings of this sort, uttered barks which were
repeated by the thousand echoes of the basaltic cliff. The engineer even
observed that these barks had something strange in them, like those which
the dog had uttered at the mouth of the well in Granite House.

"Let us go close in," said he.

And the "Bonadventure" sailed as near as possible to the rocky shore.
Perhaps some cave, which it would be advisable to explore, existed there?
But Harding saw nothing, not a cavern, not a cleft which could serve as a
retreat to any being whatever, for the foot of the cliff was washed by the
surf. Soon Top's barks ceased, and the vessel continued her course at a few
cables-length from the coast.

In the northwest part of the island the shore became again flat and
sandy. A few trees here and there rose above a low, marshy ground, which
the colonists had already surveyed, and in violent contrast to the other
desert shore, life was again manifested by the presence of myriads of
water-fowl. That evening the "Bonadventure" anchored in a small bay to the
north of the island, near the land, such was the depth of water there. The
night passed quietly, for the breeze died away with the last light of day,
and only rose again with the first streaks of dawn.

As it was easy to land, the usual hunters of the colony, that is to say,
Herbert and Gideon Spilett, went for a ramble of two hours or so, and
returned with several strings of wild duck and snipe. Top had done wonders,
and not a bird had been lost, thanks to his zeal and cleverness.

At eight o'clock in the morning the "Bonadventure" set sail, and ran
rapidly towards North Mandible Cape, for the wind was right astern and
freshening rapidly.

"However," observed Pencroft, "I should not be surprised if a gale came
up from the west. Yesterday the sun set in a very red-looking horizon, and
now, this morning, those mares-tails don't forbode anything good."

These mares-tails are cirrus clouds, scattered in the zenith, their
height from the sea being less than five thousand feet. They look like
light pieces of cotton wool, and their presence usually announces some
sudden change in the weather.

"Well," said Harding, "let us carry as much sail as possible, and run for
shelter into Shark Gulf. I think that the 'Bonadventure' will be safe
there."

"Perfectly," replied Pencroft, "and besides, the north coast is merely
sand, very uninteresting to look at."

"I shall not be sorry," resumed the engineer, "to pass not only to-night
but to-morrow in that bay, which is worth being carefully explored."

"I think that we shall be obliged to do so, whether we like it or not,"
answered Pencroft, "for the sky looks very threatening towards the west.
Dirty weather is coming on!"

"At any rate we have a favorable wind for reaching Cape Mandible,"
observed the reporter.

"A very fine wind," replied the sailor; "but we must tack to enter the
gulf, and I should like to see my way clear in these unknown quarters."

"Quarters which appear to be filled with rocks," added Herbert, "if we
judge by what we saw on the south coast of Shark Gulf."

"Pencroft," said Cyrus Harding, "do as you think best, we will leave it
to you."

"Don't make your mind uneasy, captain," replied the sailor, "I shall not
expose myself needlessly! I would rather a knife were run into my ribs than
a sharp rock into those of my 'Bonadventure!'"

That which Pencroft called ribs was the pan of his vessel under water,
and he valued it more than his own skin.

"What o'clock is it?" asked Pencroft.

"Ten o'clock," replied Gideon Spilett.

"And what distance is it to the Cape, captain?"

"About fifteen miles," replied the engineer.

"That's a matter of two hours and a half," said the sailor, "and we shall
be off the Cape between twelve and one o'clock. Unluckily, the tide will be
turning at that moment, and will be ebbing out of the gulf. I am afraid
that it will be very difficult to get in, having both wind and tide against
us."

"And the more so that it is a full moon to-day," remarked Herbert, "and
these April tides are very strong."

"Well, Pencroft," asked Harding, "can you not anchor off the Cape?"

"Anchor near land, with bad weather coming on!" exclaimed the sailor.
"What are you thinking of, captain? We should run aground, of a certainty!"

"What will you do then?"

"I shall try to keep in the offing until the flood, that is to say, till
about seven in the evening, and if there is still light enough I will try
to enter the gulf; if not, we must stand off and on during the night, and
we will enter to-morrow at sunrise."

"As I told you, Pencroft, we will leave it to you," answered Harding.

"Ah!" said Pencroft, "if there was only a lighthouse on the coast, it
would be much more convenient for sailors."

"Yes," replied Herbert, "and this time we shall have no obliging engineer
to light a fire to guide us into port!"

"Why, indeed, my dear Cyrus," said Spilett, "we have never thanked you;
but frankly, without that fire we should never have been able--"

"A fire?" asked Harding, much astonished at the reporter's words.

"We mean, captain," answered Pencroft, "that on board the 'Bonadventure'
we were very anxious during the few hours before our return, and we should
have passed to windward of the island, if it had not been for the
precaution you took of lighting a fire the night of the 19th of October, on
Prospect Heights.

"Yes, yes! That was a lucky idea of mine!" replied the engineer.

"And this time," continued the sailor. "unless the idea occurs to Ayrton,
there will be no one to do us that little service!"

"No! No one!" answered Cyrus Harding.

A few minutes after, finding himself alone in the bows of the vessel,
with the reporter, the engineer bent down and whispered,--

"If there is one thing certain in this world, Spilett, it is that I never
lighted any fire during the night of the 19th of October, neither on
Prospect Heights nor on any other part of the island!"

Chapter 20

Things happened as Pencroft had predicted, he being seldom mistaken in his
prognostications. The wind rose, and from a fresh breeze it soon increased
to a regular gale; that is to say, it acquired a speed of from forty to
forty-five miles an hour, before which a ship in the open sea would have
run under close-reefed topsails. Now. as it was nearly six o'clock when the
"Bonadventure" reached the gulf, and as at that moment the tide turned, it
was impossible to enter. They were therefore compelled to stand off, for
even if he had wished to do so, Pencroft could not have gained the mouth of
the Mercy. Hoisting the jib to the mainmast by way of a storm-sail, he hove
to, putting the head of the vessel towards the land.

Fortunately, although the wind was strong the sea, being sheltered by the
land, did not run very high. They had then little to fear from the waves,
which always endanger small craft. The "Bonadventure" would doubtlessly not
have capsized, for she was well ballasted, but enormous masses of water
falling on the deck might injure her if her timbers could not sustain them.
Pencroft, as a good sailor, was prepared for anything. Certainly, he had
great confidence in his vessel, but nevertheless he awaited the return of
day with some anxiety.

During the night, Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett had no opportunity for
talking together, and yet the words pronounced in the reporter's ear by the
engineer were well worth being discussed, together with the mysterious
influence which appeared to reign over Lincoln Island. Gideon Spilett did
not cease from pondering over this new and inexplicable incident, the
appearance of a fire on the coast of the island. The fire had actually been
seen! His companions, Herbert and Pencroft, had seen it with him! The fire
had served to signalize the position of the island during that dark night,
and they had not doubted that it was lighted by the engineer's hand; and
here was Cyrus Harding expressly declaring that he had never done anything
of the sort! Spilett resolved to recur to this incident as soon as the
"Bonadventure" returned, and to urge Cyrus Harding to acquaint their
companions with these strange facts. Perhaps it would be decided to make in
common a complete investigation of every part of Lincoln Island.

However that might be, on this evening no fire was lighted on these yet
unknown shores, which formed the entrance to the gulf, and the little
vessel stood off during the night.

When the first streaks of dawn appeared in the western horizon, the wind,
which had slightly fallen, shifted two points, and enabled Pencroft to
enter the narrow gulf with greater ease. Towards seven o'clock in the
morning, the "Bonadventure," weathering the North Mandible Cape, entered
the strait and glided on to the waters, so strangely enclosed in the frame
of lava.

"Well," said Pencroft, "this bay would make admirable roads, in which a
whole fleet could lie at their ease!"

"What is especially curious," observed Harding, "is that the gulf has
been formed by two rivers of lava, thrown out by the volcano, and
accumulated by successive eruptions. The result is that the gulf is
completely sheltered on all sides, and I believe that even in the stormiest
weather, the sea here must be as calm as a lake."

"No doubt," returned the sailor, "since the wind has only that narrow
entrance between the two capes to get in by, and, besides, the north cape
protects that of the south in a way which would make the entrance of gusts
very difficult. I declare our 'Bonadventure' could stay here from one end
of the year to the other, without even dragging at her anchor!"

"It is rather large for her!" observed the reporter.

"Well! Mr. Spilett," replied the sailor, "I agree that it is too large
for the 'Bonadventure,' but if the fleets of the Union were in want of a
harbor in the Pacific, I don't think they would ever find a better place
than this!"

"We are in the shark's mouth," remarked Nab, alluding to the form of the
gulf.

"Right into its mouth, my honest Nab!" replied Herbert, "but you are not
afraid that it will shut upon us, are you?"

"No, Mr. Herbert," answered Neb, "and yet this gulf here doesn't please
me much! It has a wicked look!"

"Hallo!" cried Pencroft, "here is Neb turning up his nose at my gulf,
just as I was thinking of presenting it to America!"

"But, at any rate, is the water deep enough?" asked the engineer, "for a
depth sufficient for the keel of the 'Bonadventure' would not be enough for
those of our iron-clads."

"That is easily found out," replied Pencroft.

And the sailor sounded with a long cord, which served him as a lead-line,
and to which was fastened a lump of iron. This cord measured nearly fifty
fathoms, and its entire length was unrolled without finding any bottom.

"There," exclaimed Pencroft, "our iron-dads can come here after all! They
would not run aground!"

"Indeed," said Gideon Spilett, "this gulf is a regular abyss, but, taking
into consideration the volcanic origin of the island, it is not astonishing
that the sea should offer similar depressions."

"One would say too," observed Herbert, "that these cliffs were perfectly
perpendicular; and I believe that at their foot, even with a line five or
six times longer, Pencroft would not find bottom."

"That is all very well," then said the reporter, "but I must point out to
Pencroft that his harbor is wanting in one very important respect!"

"And what is that, Mr. Spilett?"

"An opening, a cutting of some sort, to give access to the interior of
the island. I do not see a spot on which we could land." And, in fact, the
steep lava cliffs did not afford a single place suitable for landing. They
formed an insuperable barrier, recalling, but with more wildness, the
fiords of Norway. The "Bonadventure," coasting as close as possible along
the cliffs, did not discover even a projection which would allow the
passengers to leave the deck.

Pencroft consoled himself by saying that with the help of a mine they
could soon open out the cliff when that was necessary, and then, as there
was evidently nothing to be done in the gulf, he steered his vessel towards
the strait and passed out at about two o'clock in the afternoon.

"Ah!" said Nab, uttering a sigh of satisfaction.

One might really say that the honest Negro did not feel at his ease in
those enormous jaws.

The distance from Mandible Cape to the mouth of the Mercy was not more
than eight miles. The head of the "Bonadventure" was put towards Granite
House, and a fair wind filling her sails, she ran rapidly along the coast.

To the enormous lava rocks succeeded soon those capricious sand dunes,
among which the engineer had been so singularly recovered, and which
seabirds frequented in thousands.

About four o'clock, Pencroft leaving the point of the islet on his left,
entered the channel which separated it from the coast, and at five o'clock
the anchor of the 'Bonadventure" was buried in the sand at the mouth of
the Mercy.

The colonists had been absent three days from their dwelling. Ayrton was
waiting for them on the beach, and Jup came joyously to meet them, giving
vent to deep grunts of satisfaction.

A complete exploration of the coast of the island had now been made, and
no suspicious appearances had been observed. If any mysterious being
resided on it, it could only be under cover of the impenetrable forest of
the Serpentine Peninsula, to which the colonists had not yet directed their
investigations.

Gideon Spilett discussed these things with the engineer, and it was
agreed that they should direct the attention of their companions to the
strange character of certain incidents which had occurred on the island,
and of which the last was the most unaccountable.

However, Harding, returning to the fact of a fire having been kindled on
the shore by an unknown hand, could not refrain from repeating for the
twentieth time to the reporter,--

"But are you quite sure of having seen it? Was it not a partial eruption
of the volcano, or perhaps some meteor?"

"No, Cyrus," answered the reporter, "it was certainly a fire lighted by
the hand of man. Besides; question Pencroft and Herbert. They saw it as I
saw it myself, and they will confirm my words."

In consequence, therefore, a few days after, on the 25th of April, in the
evening, when the settlers were all collected on Prospect Heights, Cyrus
Harding began by saying,--

"My friends, I think it my duty to call your attention to certain
incidents which have occurred in the island, on the subject of which I
shall be happy to have your advice. These incidents are, so to speak,
supernatural--"

"Supernatural!" exclaimed the sailor, emitting a volume of smoke from his
mouth. "Can it be possible that our island is supernatural?"

"No, Pencroft, but mysterious, most certainly," replied the engineer;
"unless you can explain that which Spilett and I have until now failed to
understand."

"Speak away, captain," answered the sailor.

"Well, have you understood," then said the engineer, "how was it that
after falling into the sea, I was found a quarter of a mile into the
interior of the island, and that, without my having any consciousness of my
removal there?"

"Unless, being unconscious--" said Pencroft.

"That is not admissible," replied the engineer. "But to continue. Have
you understood how Top was able to discover your retreat five miles from
the cave in which I was lying?"

"The dog's instinct--" observed Herbert.

"Singular instinct!" returned the reporter, "since notwithstanding the
storm of rain and wind which was raging during that night, Top arrived at
the Chimneys, dry and without a speck of mud!"

"Let us continue," resumed the engineer. "Have you understood how our dog
was so strangely thrown up out of the water of the lake, after his struggle
with the dugong?"

"No! I confess, not at all," replied Pencroft, "and the wound which the
dugong had in its side, a wound which seemed to have been made with a sharp
instrument; that can't be understood, either."

"Let us continue again,' said Harding. "Have you understood, my friends,
how that bullet got into the body of the young peccary; how that case
happened to be so fortunately stranded, without there being any trace of a
wreck; how that bottle containing the document presented itself so
opportunely, during our first sea-excursion; how our canoe, having broken
its moorings, floated down the current of the Mercy and rejoined us at the
very moment we needed it; how after the ape invasion the ladder was so
obligingly thrown down from Granite House; and lastly, how the document,
which Ayrton asserts was never written by him, fell into our hands?"

As Cyrus Harding thus enumerated, without forgetting one, the singular
incidents which had occurred in the island, Herbert, Neb, and Pencroft
stared at each other, not knowing what to reply, for this succession of
incidents, grouped thus for the first time, could not but excite their
surprise to the highest degree.

"'Pon my word," said Pencroft at last, "you are right, captain, and it is
difficult to explain all these things!"

"Well, my friends," resumed the engineer, "a last fact has just been
added to these, and it is no less incomprehensible than the others!"

"What is it, captain?" asked Herbert quickly.

"When you were returning from Tabor Island, Pencroft," continued the
engineer, "you said that a fire appeared on Lincoln Island?"

"Certainly," answered the sailor.

"And you are quite certain of having seen this fire?"

"As sure as I see you now."

"You also, Herbert?"

"Why, captain," cried Herbert, "that fire was blazing like a star of the
first magnitude!"

"But was it not a star?" urged the engineer.

"No," replied Pencroft, "for the sky was covered with thick clouds, and
at any rate a star would not have been so low on the horizon. But Mr.
Spilett saw it as well as we, and he will confirm our words."

"I will add," said the reporter, "that the fire was very bright, and that
it shot up like a sheet of lightning."

"Yes, yes! exactly," added Herbert, "and it was certainly placed on the
heights of Granite House."

"Well, my friends," replied Cyrus Harding, "during the night of the 19th
of October, neither Neb nor I lighted any fire on the coast."

"You did not!" exclaimed Pencroft, in the height of his astonishment, not
being able to finish his sentence.

"We did not leave Granite House," answered Cyrus Harding, "and if a fire
appeared on the coast, it was lighted by another hand than ours!"

Pencroft, Herbert, and Neb were stupefied. No illusion could be possible,
and a fire had actually met their eyes during the night of the 19th of
October. Yes! they had to acknowledge it, a mystery existed! An
inexplicable influence, evidently favorable to the colonists, but very
irritating to their curiosity, was executed always in the nick of time on
Lincoln Island. Could there be some being hidden in its profoundest
recesses? It was necessary at any cost to ascertain this.

Harding also reminded his companions of the singular behavior of Top and
Jup when they prowled round the mouth of the well, which placed Granite
House in communication with the sea, and he told them that he had explored
the well, without discovering anything suspicious. The final resolve taken,
in consequence of this conversation, by all the members of the colony, was
that as soon as the fine season returned they would thoroughly search the
whole of the island.

But from that day Pencroft appeared to be anxious. He felt as if the
island which he had made his own personal property belonged to him entirely
no longer, and that he shared it with another master, to whom, willing or
not, he felt subject. Neb and he often talked of those unaccountable
things, and both, their natures inclining them to the marvelous, were not
far from believing that Lincoln Island was under the dominion of some
supernatural power.

In the meanwhile, the bad weather came with the month of May, the
November of the northern zones. It appeared that the winter would be severe
and forward. The preparations for the winter season were therefore
commenced without delay.

Nevertheless, the colonists were well prepared to meet the winter,
however hard it might be. They had plenty of felt clothing, and the
musmons, very numerous by this time, had furnished an abundance of wool
necessary for the manufacture of this warm material.

It is unnecessary to say that Ayrton had been provided with this
comfortable clothing. Cyrus Harding proposed that he should come to spend
the bad season with them in Granite House, where he would be better lodged
than at the corral, and Ayrton promised to do so, as soon as the last work
at the corral was finished. He did this towards the middle of April. From
that time Ayrton shared the common life, and made himself useful on all
occasions; but still humble and sad, he never took part in the pleasures of
his companions.

For the greater part of this, the third winter which the settlers passed
in Lincoln Island, they were confined to Granite House. There were many
violent storms and frightful tempests, which appeared to shake the rocks to
their very foundations. Immense waves threatened to overwhelm the island,
and certainly any vessel anchored near the shore would have been dashed to
pieces. Twice, during one of these hurricanes, the Mercy swelled to such a
degree as to give reason to fear that the bridges would be swept away, and
it was necessary to strengthen those on the shore, which disappeared under
the foaming waters, when the sea beat against the beach.

It may well be supposed that such storms, comparable to water-spouts in
which were mingled rain and snow, would cause great havoc on the plateau of
Prospect Heights. The mill and the poultry-yard particularly suffered. The
colonists were often obliged to make immediate repairs, without which the
safety of the birds would have been seriously threatened.

During the worst weather, several jaguars and troops of quadrumana
ventured to the edge of the plateau, and it was always to be feared that
the most active and audacious would, urged by hunger, manage to cross the
stream, which besides, when frozen, offered them an easy passage.
Plantations and domestic animals would then have been infallibly destroyed,
without a constant watch, and it was often necessary to make use of the
guns to keep those dangerous visitors at a respectful distance. Occupation
was not wanting to the colonists, for without reckoning their out-door
cares, they had always a thousand plans for the fitting up of Granite
House.

They had also some fine sporting excursions, which were made during the
frost in the vast Tadorn Marsh. Gideon Spilett and Herbert, aided by Jup
and Top, did not miss a shot in the midst of myriads of wild-duck, snipe,
teal, and others. The access to these hunting-grounds was easy; besides,
whether they reached them by the road to Port Balloon, after having passed
the Mercy Bridge, or by turning the rocks from Flotsam Point, the hunters
were never distant from Granite House more than two or three miles.

Thus passed the four winter months, which were really rigorous, that is
to say, June, July, August, and September. But, in short, Granite House did
not suffer much from the inclemency of the weather, and it was the same
with the corral, which, less exposed than the plateau, and sheltered partly
by Mount Franklin, only received the remains of the hurricanes, already
broken by the forests and the high rocks of the shore. The damages there
were consequently of small importance, and the activity and skill of Ayrton
promptly repaired them, when some time in October he returned to pass a few
days in the corral.

During this winter, no fresh inexplicable incident occurred. Nothing
strange happened, although Pencroft and Neb were on the watch for the most
insignificant facts to which they attached any mysterious cause. Top and
Jup themselves no longer growled round the well or gave any signs of
uneasiness. It appeared, therefore, as if the series of supernatural
incidents was interrupted, although they often talked of them during the
evenings in Granite House, and they remained thoroughly resolved that the
island should be searched, even in those parts the most difficult to
explore. But an event of the highest importance, and of which the
consequences might be terrible, momentarily diverted from their projects
Cyrus Harding and his companions.

It was the month of October. The fine season was swiftly returning.
Nature was reviving; and among the evergreen foliage of the coniferae which
formed the border of the wood, already appeared the young leaves of the
banksias, deodars, and other trees.

It may be remembered that Gideon Spilett and Herbert had, at different
times, taken photographic views of Lincoln Island.

Now, on the 17th of this month of October, towards three o'clock in the
afternoon, Herbert, enticed by the charms of the sky, thought of
reproducing Union Bay, which was opposite to Prospect Heights, from Cape
Mandible to Claw Cape.

The horizon was beautifully clear, and the sea, undulating under a soft
breeze, was as calm as the waters of a lake, sparkling here and there under
the sun's rays.

The apparatus had been placed at one of the windows of the dining-room at
Granite House, and consequently overlooked the shore and the bay. Herbert
proceeded as he was accustomed to do, and the negative obtained, he went
away to fix it by means of the chemicals deposited in a dark nook of
Granite House.

Returning to the bright light, and examining it well, Herbert perceived
on his negative an almost imperceptible little spot on the sea horizon. He
endeavored to make it disappear by reiterated washing, but could not
accomplish it.

"It is a flaw in the glass," he thought.

And then he had the curiosity to examine this flaw with a strong
magnifier which he unscrewed from one of the telescopes.

But he had scarcely looked at it, when he uttered a cry, and the glass
almost fell from his hands.

Immediately running to the room in which Cyrus Harding then was, he
extended the negative and magnifier towards the engineer, pointing out the
little spot.

Harding examined it; then seizing his telescope he rushed to the window.

The telescope, after having slowly swept the horizon, at last stopped on
the looked-for spot, and Cyrus Harding, lowering it, pronounced one word
only,--

"A vessel!"

And in fact a vessel was in sight, off Lincoln Island!

PART 3

THE SECRET OF THE ISLAND

Chapter 1

It was now two years and a half since the castaways from the balloon had
been thrown on Lincoln Island, and during that period there had been no
communication between them and their fellow-creatures. Once the reporter
had attempted to communicate with the inhabited world by confiding to a
bird a letter which contained the secret of their situation, but that was a
chance on which it was impossible to reckon seriously. Ayrton, alone, under
the circumstances which have been related, had come to join the little
colony. Now, suddenly, on this day, the 17th of October, other men had
unexpectedly appeared in sight of the island, on that deserted sea!

There could be no doubt about it! A vessel was there! But would she pass
on, or would she put into port? In a few hours the colonists would
definitely know what to expect.

Cyrus Harding and Herbert having immediately called Gideon Spilett,
Pencroft, and Neb into the dining-room of Granite House, told them what had
happened. Pencroft, seizing the telescope, rapidly swept the horizon, and
stopping on the indicated point, that is to say, on that which had made the
almost imperceptible spot on the photographic negative,--

"I'm blessed but it is really a vessel!" he exclaimed, in a voice which
did not express any great amount of satisfaction.

"Is she coming here?" asked Gideon Spilett.

"Impossible to say anything yet," answered Pencroft, "for her rigging
alone is above the horizon, and not a bit of her hull can be seen."

"What is to be done?" asked the lad.

"Wait," replied Harding.

And for a considerable time the settlers remained silent, given up to all
the thoughts, and the emotions, all the fears, all the hopes, which were
aroused by this incident--the most important which had occurred since their
arrival in Lincoln Island. Certainly, the colonists were not in the
situation of castaways abandoned on a sterile islet, constantly contending
against a cruel nature for their miserable existence, and incessantly
tormented by the longing to return to inhabited countries. Pencroft and
Neb, especially, who felt themselves at once so happy and so rich, would
not have left their island without regret. They were accustomed, besides,
to this new life in the midst of the domain which their intelligence had as
it were civilized. But at any rate this ship brought news from the world,
perhaps even from their native land. It was bringing fellow-creatures to
them, and it may be conceived how deeply their hearts were moved at the
sight!

From time to time Pencroft took the glass and rested himself at the
window. From thence he very attentively examined the vessel, which was at a
distance of twenty miles to the east. The colonists had as yet, therefore,
no means of signalizing their presence. A flag would not have been
perceived; a gun would not have been heard; a fire would not have been
visible. However, it was certain that the island, overtopped by Mount
Franklin, could not escape the notice of the vessel's lookout. But why was
the ship coming there? Was it simple chance which brought it to that part
of the Pacific, where the maps mentioned no land except Tabor Island, which
itself was out of the route usually followed by vessels from the Polynesian
Archipelagoes, from New Zealand, and from the American coast? To this
question, which each one asked himself, a reply was suddenly made by
Herbert.

"Can it be the 'Duncan'?" he cried.

The "Duncan," as has been said, was Lord Glenarvan's yacht, which had
left Ayrton on the islet, and which was to return there someday to fetch
him. Now, the islet was not so far distant from Lincoln Island, but that a
vessel, standing for the one, could pass in sight of the other. A hundred
and fifty miles only separated them in longitude, and seventy in latitude.

"We must tell Ayrton," said Gideon Spilett, "and send for him
immediately. He alone can say if it is the 'Duncan.'"

This was the opinion of all, and the reporter, going to the telegraphic
apparatus which placed the corral in communication with Granite House, sent
this telegram:--"Come with all possible speed."

In a few minutes the bell sounded.

"I am coming," replied Ayrton.

Then the settlers continued to watch the vessel.

"If it is the 'Duncan,' " said Herbert, "Ayrton will recognize her
without difficulty, since he sailed on board her for some time."

"And if he recognizes her," added Pencroft, "it will agitate him
exceedingly!"

"Yes," answered Cyrus Harding; "but now Ayrton is worthy to return on
board the 'Duncan,' and pray Heaven that it is indeed Lord Glenarvan's
yacht, for I should be suspicious of any other vessel. These are ill-famed
seas, and I have always feared a visit from Malay pirates to our island."

"We could defend it,', cried Herbert.

"No doubt, my boy," answered the engineer smiling, "but it would be
better not to have to defend it."

"A useless observation," said Spilett. "Lincoln Island is unknown to
navigators, since it is not marked even on the most recent maps. Do you
think, Cyrus, that that is a sufficient motive for a ship, finding herself
unexpectedly in sight of new land, to try and visit rather than avoid it?"

"Certainly," replied Pencroft.

"I think so too," added the engineer. "It may even be said that it is the
duty of a captain to come and survey any land or island not yet known, and
Lincoln Island is in this position."

"Well," said Pencroft, "suppose this vessel comes and anchors there a few
cables-lengths from our island, what shall we do?"

This sudden question remained at first without any reply. But Cyrus
Harding, after some moments' thought, replied in the calm tone which was
usual to him,--

"What we shall do, my friends? What we ought to do is this:--we will
communicate with the ship, we will take our passage on board her, and we
will leave our island, after having taken possession of it in the name of
the United States. Then we will return with any who may wish to follow us
to colonize it definitely, and endow the American Republic with a useful
station in this part of the Pacific Ocean!"

"Hurrah!" exclaimed Pencroft, "and that will be no small present which we
shall make to our country! The colonization is already almost finished;
names are given to every part of the island; there is a natural port, fresh
water, roads, a telegraph, a dockyard, and manufactories; and there will be
nothing to be done but to inscribe Lincoln Island on the maps!"

"But if anyone seizes it in our absence?" observed Gideon Spilett.

"Hang it!" cried the sailor. "I would rather remain all alone to guard
it: and trust to Pencroft, they shouldn't steal it from him, like a watch
from the pocket of a swell!"

For an hour it was impossible to say with any certainty whether the
vessel was or was not standing towards Lincoln Island. She was nearer, but
in what direction was she sailing? This Pencroft could not determine.
However, as the wind was blowing from the northeast, in all probability the
vessel was sailing on the starboard tack. Besides, the wind was favorable
for bringing her towards the island, and, the sea being calm, she would not
be afraid to approach although the shallows were not marked on the chart.

Towards four o'clock--an hour after he had been sent for--Ayrton arrived at
Granite House. He entered the dining-room saying,--

"At your service, gentlemen."

Cyrus Harding gave him his hand, as was his custom to do, and, leading
him to the window,--

"Ayrton," said he, "we have begged you to come here for an important
reason. A ship is in sight of the island."

Ayrton at first paled slightly, and for a moment his eyes became dim;
then, leaning out the window, he surveyed the horizon, but could see
nothing.

"Take this telescope," said Spilett, "and look carefully, Ayrton, for it
is possible that this ship may be the 'Duncan' come to these seas for the
purpose of taking you home again."

"The 'Duncan!'" murmured Ayrton. "Already?" This last word escaped
Ayrton's lips as if involuntarily, and his head drooped upon his hands.

Did not twelve years' solitude on a desert island appear to him a
sufficient expiation? Did not the penitent yet feel himself pardoned,
either in his own eyes or in the eyes of others?

"No," said he, "no! it cannot be the 'Duncan'!"

"Look, Ayrton," then said the engineer, "for it is necessary that we
should know beforehand what to expect."

Ayrton took the glass and pointed it in the direction indicated. During
some minutes he examined the horizon without moving, without uttering a
word. Then,--

"It is indeed a vessel," said he, "but I do not think she is the
'Duncan.'"

"Why do you not think so?" asked Gideon Spilett.

"Because the 'Duncan' is a steam-yacht, and I cannot perceive any trace
of smoke either above or near that vessel."

"Perhaps she is simply sailing," observed Pencroft. "The wind is
favorable for the direction which she appears to be taking, and she may be
anxious to economize her coal, being so far from land."

"It is possible that you may be right, Mr. Pencroft," answered Ayrton,
"and that the vessel has extinguished her fires. We must wait until she is
nearer, and then we shall soon know what to expect."

So saying, Ayrton sat down in a corner of the room and remained silent.
The colonists again discussed the strange ship, but Ayrton took no part in
the conversation. All were in such a mood that they found it impossible to
continue their work. Gideon Spilett and Pencroft were particularly nervous,
going, coming, not able to remain still in one place. Herbert felt more
curiosity. Neb alone maintained his usual calm manner. Was not his country
that where his master was? As to the engineer, he remained plunged in deep
thought, and in his heart feared rather than desired the arrival of the
ship. In the meanwhile, the vessel was a little nearer the island. With the
aid of the glass, it was ascertained that she was a brig, and not one of
those Malay proas, which are generally used by the pirates of the Pacific.
It was, therefore, reasonable to believe that the engineer's apprehensions
would not be justified, and that the presence of this vessel in the
vicinity of the island was fraught with no danger.

Pencroft, after a minute examination, was able positively to affirm that
the vessel was rigged as a brig, and that she was standing obliquely
towards the coast, on the starboard tack, under her topsails and top-
gallant-sails. This was confirmed by Ayrton. But by continuing in this
direction she must soon disappear behind Claw Cape, as the wind was from
the southwest, and to watch her it would be then necessary to ascend the
height of Washington Bay, near Port Balloon--a provoking circumstance, for it
was already five o'clock in the evening, and the twilight would soon make
any observation extremely difficult.

"What shall we do when night comes on?" asked Gideon Spilett. "Shall we
light a fire, so as to signal our presence on the coast?"

This was a serious question, and yet, although the engineer still
retained some of his presentiments, it was answered in the affirmative.
During the night the ship might disappear and leave for ever, and, this
ship gone, would another ever return to the waters of Lincoln Island? Who
could foresee what the future would then have in store for the colonists?

"Yes," said the reporter, "we ought to make known to that vessel, whoever
she may be, that the island is inhabited. To neglect the opportunity which
is offered to us might be to create everlasting regrets."

It was therefore decided that Neb and Pencroft should go to Port Balloon,
and that there, at nightfall, they should light an immense fire, the blaze
of which would necessarily attract the attention of the brig.

But at the moment when Neb and the sailor were preparing to leave Granite
House, the vessel suddenly altered her course, and stood directly for Union
Bay. The brig was a good sailer, for she approached rapidly. Neb and
Pencroft put off their departure, therefore, and the glass was put into
Ayrton's hands, that he might ascertain for certain whether the ship was or
was not the "Duncan." The Scotch yacht was also rigged as a brig. The
question was, whether a chimney could be discerned between the two masts of
the vessel, which was now at a distance of only five miles.

The horizon was still very clear. The examination was easy, and Ayrton
soon let the glass fall again, saying--

"It is not the 'Duncan'! It could not be!"

Pencroft again brought the brig within the range of the telescope, and
could see that she was of between three and four hundred tons burden,
wonderfully narrow, well-masted, admirably built, and must be a very rapid
sailer. But to what nation did she belong? That was difficult to say.

"And yet," added the sailor, "a flag is floating from her peak, but I
cannot distinguish the colors of it."

"In half an hour we shall be certain about that," answered the reporter.
"Besides, it is very evident that the intention of the captain of this ship
is to land, and, consequently, if not today, to-morrow at the latest, we
shall make his acquaintance."

"Never mind!" said Pencroft. "It is best to know whom we have to deal
with, and I shall not be sorry to recognize that fellow's colors!"

And, while thus speaking, the sailor never left the glass. The day began
to fade, and with the day the breeze fell also. The brig's ensign hung in
folds, and it became more and more difficult to observe it.

"It is not the American flag," said Pencroft from time to time, "nor the
English, the red of which could be easily seen, nor the French or German
colors, nor the white flag of Russia, nor the yellow of Spain. One would
say it was all one color. Let's see: in these seas, what do we generally
meet with? The Chilean flag?--but that is tri-color. Brazilian?--it is
green. Japanese?--it is yellow and black, while this--"

At that moment the breeze blew out the unknown flag. Ayrton seizing the
telescope which the sailor had put down, put it to his eye, and in a hoarse
voice, --

"The black flag!" he exclaimed.

And indeed the somber bunting was floating from the mast of the brig, and
they had now good reason for considering her to be a suspicious vessel!

Had the engineer, then, been right in his presentiments? Was this a
pirate vessel? Did she scour the Pacific, competing with the Malay proas
which still infest it? For what had she come to look at the shores of
Lincoln Island? Was it to them an unknown island, ready to become a
magazine for stolen cargoes? Had she come to find on the coast a sheltered
port for the winter months? Was the settlers' honest domain destined to be
transformed into an infamous refuge--the headquarters of the piracy of the
Pacific?

All these ideas instinctively presented themselves to the colonists'
imaginations. There was no doubt, besides, of the signification which must
be attached to the color of the hoisted flag. It was that of pirates! It
was that which the "Duncan" would have carried, had the convicts succeeded
in their criminal design! No time was lost before discussing it.

"My friends," said Cyrus Harding, "perhaps this vessel only wishes to
survey the coast of the island. Perhaps her crew will not land. There is a
chance of it. However that may be, we ought to do everything we can to hide
our presence here. The windmill on Prospect Heights is too easily seen. Let
Ayrton and Neb go and take down the sails. We must also conceal the windows
of Granite House with thick branches. All the fires must be extinguished,
so that nothing may betray the presence of men on the island."

"And our vessel?" said Herbert.

"Oh," answered Pencroft, "she is sheltered in Port Balloon, and I defy
any of those rascals there to find her!"

The engineer's orders were immediately executed. Neb and Ayrton ascended
the plateau, and took the necessary precautions to conceal any indication
of a settlement. While they were thus occupied, their companions went to
the border of Jacamar Wood, and brought back a large quantity of branches
and creepers, which would at some distance appear as natural foliage, and
thus disguise the windows in the granite cliff. At the same time, the
ammunition and guns were placed ready so as to be at hand in case of an
unexpected attack.

When all these precautions had been taken,--

"My friends," said Harding, and his voice betrayed some emotion, "if the
wretches endeavor to seize Lincoln Island, we shall defend it--shall we
not?"

"Yes, Cyrus," replied the reporter, "and if necessary we will die to
defend it!"

The engineer extended his hand to his companions, who pressed it warmly.
Ayrton remained in his corner, not joining the colonists. Perhaps he, the
former convict, still felt himself unworthy to do so!

Cyrus Harding understood what was passing in Ayrton's mind, and going to
him--

"And you, Ayrton," he asked, "what will you do?"

"My duty," answered Ayrton.

He then took up his station near the window and gazed through the
foliage.

It was now half-past seven. The sun had disappeared twenty minutes ago
behind Granite House. Consequently the Eastern horizon was becoming
obscured. In the meanwhile the brig continued to advance towards Union Bay.
She was now not more than two miles off, and exactly opposite the plateau
of Prospect Heights, for after having tacked off Claw Cape, she had drifted
towards the north in the current of the rising tide. One might have said
that at this distance she had already entered the vast bay, for a straight
line drawn from Claw Cape to Cape Mandible would have rested on her
starboard quarter.

Was the brig about to penetrate far into the bay? That was the first
question. When once in the bay, would she anchor there? That was the
second. Would she not content herself with only surveying the coast, and
stand out to sea again without landing her crew? They would know this in an
hour. The colonists could do nothing but wait.

Cyrus Harding had not seen the suspected vessel hoist the black flag
without deep anxiety. Was it not a direct menace against the work which he
and his companions had till now conducted so successfully? Had these
pirates--for the sailors of the brig could be nothing else--already visited
the island, since on approaching it they had hoisted their colors. Had they
formerly invaded it, so that certain unaccountable peculiarities might be
explained in this way? Did there exist in the as yet unexplored parts some
accomplice ready to enter into communication with them?

To all these questions which he mentally asked himself, Harding knew not
what to reply; but he felt that the safety of the colony could not but be
seriously threatened by the arrival of the brig.

However, he and his companions were determined to fight to the last gasp.
It would have been very important to know if the pirates were numerous and
better armed than the colonists. But how was this information to he
obtained?

Night fell. The new moon had disappeared. Profound darkness enveloped the
island and the sea. No light could pierce through the heavy piles of clouds
on the horizon. The wind had died away completely with the twilight. Not a
leaf rustled on the trees, not a ripple murmured on the shore. Nothing
could be seen of the ship, all her lights being extinguished, and if she
was still in sight of the island, her whereabouts could not be discovered.

"Well! who knows?" said Pencroft. "Perhaps that cursed craft will stand
off during the night, and we shall see nothing of her at daybreak."

As if in reply to the sailor's observation, a bright light flashed in the
darkness, and a cannon-shot was heard.

The vessel was still there and had guns on board.

Six seconds elapsed between the flash and the report.

Therefore the brig was about a mile and a quarter from the coast.

At the same time, the chains were heard rattling through the hawse-holes.

The vessel had just anchored in sight of Granite House!

Chapter 2

There was no longer any doubt as to the pirates' intentions. They had
dropped anchor at a short distance from the island, and it was evident that
the next day by means of their boats they purposed to land on the beach!

Cyrus Harding and his companions were ready to act, but, determined
though they were, they must not forget to be prudent. Perhaps their
presence might still be concealed in the event of the pirates contenting
themselves with landing on the shore without examining the interior of the
island. It might be, indeed, that their only intention was to obtain fresh
water from the Mercy, and it was not impossible that the bridge, thrown
across a mile and a half from the mouth, and the manufactory at the
Chimneys might escape their notice.

But why was that flag hoisted at the brig's peak? What was that shot
fired for? Pure bravado doubtless, unless it was a sign of the act of
taking possession. Harding knew now that the vessel was well armed. And
what had the colonists of Lincoln Island to reply to the pirates' guns? A
few muskets only.

"However," observed Cyrus Harding, "here we are in an impregnable
position. The enemy cannot discover the mouth of the outlet, now that it is
hidden under reeds and grass, and consequently it would be impossible for
them to penetrate into Granite House."

"But our plantations, our poultry-yard, our corral, all, everything!"
exclaimed Pencroft, stamping his foot. "They may spoil everything, destroy
everything in a few hours!"

"Everything, Pencroft," answered Harding, "and we have no means of
preventing them."

"Are they numerous? that is the question," said the reporter. "If they
are not more than a dozen, we shall be able to stop them, but forty, fifty,
more perhaps!"

"Captain Harding," then said Ayrton, advancing towards the engineer,
"will you give me leave?"

"For what, my friend?"

"To go to that vessel to find out the strength of her crew."

"But Ayrton--" answered the engineer, hesitating, "you will risk your
life--"

"Why not, sir?"

"That is more than your duty."

"I have more than my duty to do," replied Ayrton.

"Will you go to the ship in the boat?" asked Gideon Spilett.

"No, sir, but I will swim. A boat would be seen where a man may glide
between wind and water."

"Do you know that the brig is a mile and a quarter from the shore?" said
Herbert.

"I am a good swimmer, Mr. Herbert."

"I tell you it is risking your life," said the engineer.

"That is no matter," answered Ayrton. "Captain Harding, I ask this as a
favor. Perhaps it will be a means of raising me in my own eyes!"

"Go, Ayrton," replied the engineer, who felt sure that a refusal would
have deeply wounded the former convict, now become an honest man.

"I will accompany you," said Pencroft.

"You mistrust me!" said Ayrton quickly.

Then more humbly,--

"Alas!"

"No! no!" exclaimed Harding with animation, "no, Ayrton, Pencroft does
not mistrust you. You interpret his words wrongly."

"Indeed," returned the sailor, "I only propose to accompany Ayrton as far
as the islet. It may be, although it is scarcely possible, that one of
these villains has landed, and in that case two men will not be too many to
hinder him from giving the alarm. I will wait for Ayrton on the islet, and
he shall go alone to the vessel, since he has proposed to do so." These
things agreed to, Ayrton made preparations for his departure. His plan was
bold, but it might succeed, thanks to the darkness of the night. Once
arrived at the vessel's side, Ayrton, holding on to the main chains, might
reconnoiter the number and perhaps overhear the intentions of the pirates.

Ayrton and Pencroft, followed by their companions, descended to the
beach. Ayrton undressed and rubbed himself with grease, so as to suffer
less from the temperature of the water, which was still cold. He might,
indeed, be obliged to remain in it for several hours.

Pencroft and Neb, during this time, had gone to fetch the boat, moored a
few hundred feet higher up, on the bank of the Mercy, and by the time they
returned, Ayrton was ready to start. A coat was thrown over his shoulders,
and the settlers all came round him to press his hand.

Ayrton then shoved off with Pencroft in the boat.

It was half-past ten in the evening when the two adventurers disappeared
in the darkness. Their companions returned to wait at the Chimneys.

The channel was easily traversed, and the boat touched the opposite shore
of the islet. This was not done without precaution, for fear lest the
pirates might be roaming about there. But after a careful survey, it was
evident that the islet was deserted. Ayrton then, followed by Pencroft,
crossed it with a rapid step, scaring the birds nestled in the holes of the
rocks; then, without hesitating, he plunged into the sea, and swam
noiselessly in the direction of the ship, in which a few lights had
recently appeared, showing her exact situation. As to Pencroft, he crouched
down in a cleft of the rock, and awaited the return of his companion.

In the meanwhile, Ayrton, swimming with a vigorous stroke, glided through
the sheet of water without producing the slightest ripple. His head just
emerged above it and his eyes were fixed on the dark hull of the brig, from
which the lights were reflected in the water. He thought only of the duty
which he had promised to accomplish, and nothing of the danger which he
ran, not only on board the ship, but in the sea, often frequented by
sharks. The current bore him along and he rapidly receded from the shore.

Half an hour afterwards, Ayrton, without having been either seen or
heard, arrived at the ship and caught hold of the main-chains. He took
breath, then, hoisting himself up, he managed to reach the extremity of the
cutwater. There were drying several pairs of sailors' trousers. He put on a
pair. Then settling himself firmly, he listened. They were not sleeping on
board the brig. On the contrary, they were talking, singing, laughing. And
these were the sentences, accompanied with oaths, which principally struck
Ayrton:--

"Our brig is a famous acquisition."

"She sails well, and merits her name of the 'Speedy.'"

"She would show all the navy of Norfolk a clean pair of heels."

"Hurrah for her captain!"

"Hurrah for Bob Harvey!"

What Ayrton felt when he overheard this fragment of conversation may be
understood when it is known that in this Bob Harvey he recognized one of
his old Australian companions, a daring sailor, who had continued his
criminal career. Bob Harvey had seized, on the shores of Norfolk Island
this brig, which was loaded with arms, ammunition, utensils, and tools of
all sorts, destined for one of the Sandwich Islands. All his gang had gone
on board, and pirates after having been convicts, these wretches, more
ferocious than the Malays themselves, scoured the Pacific, destroying
vessels, and massacring their crews.

The convicts spoke loudly, they recounted their deeds, drinking deeply at
the same time, and this is what Ayrton gathered. The actual crew of the
"Speedy" was composed solely of English prisoners, escaped from Norfolk
Island.

Here it may be well to explain what this island was. In 29� 2' south
latitude, and 165� 42' east longitude, to the east of Australia, is found a
little island, six miles in circumference, overlooked by Mount Pitt, which
rises to a height of 1,100 feet above the level of the sea. This is Norfolk
Island, once the seat of an establishment in which were lodged the most
intractable convicts from the English penitentiaries. They numbered 500,
under an iron discipline, threatened with terrible punishments, and were
guarded by 150 soldiers, and 150 employed under the orders of the governor.
It would be difficult to imagine a collection of greater ruffians.
Sometimes,--although very rarely,--notwithstanding the extreme surveillance
of which they were the object, many managed to escape, and seizing vessels
which they surprised, they infested the Polynesian Archipelagoes.

Thus had Bob Harvey and his companions done. Thus had Ayrton formerly
wished to do. Bob Harvey had seized the brig "Speedy," anchored in sight of
Norfolk Island; the crew had been massacred; and for a year this ship had
scoured the Pacific, under the command of Harvey, now a pirate, and well
known to Ayrton!

The convicts were, for the most part, assembled under the poop; but a
few, stretched on the deck, were talking loudly.

The conversation still continued amid shouts and libations. Ayrton
learned that chance alone had brought the "Speedy" in sight of Lincoln
Island; Bob Harvey had never yet set foot on it; but, as Cyrus Harding had
conjectured, finding this unknown land in his course, its position being
marked on no chart, he had formed the project of visiting it, and, if he
found it suitable, of making it the brig's headquarters.

As to the black flag hoisted at the "Speedy's" peak, and the gun which
had been fired, in imitation of men-of-war when they lower their colors, it
was pure piratical bravado. It was in no way a signal, and no communication
yet existed between the convicts and Lincoln Island.

The settlers' domain was now menaced with terrible danger. Evidently the
island, with its water, its harbor, its resources of all kinds so increased
in value by the colonists, and the concealment afforded by Granite House,
could not but be convenient for the convicts; in their hands it would
become an excellent place of refuge, and, being unknown, it would assure
them, for a long time perhaps, impunity and security. Evidently, also, the
lives of the settlers would not be respected, and Bob Harvey and his
accomplices' first care would be to massacre them without mercy. Harding
and his companions had, therefore, not even the choice of flying and hiding
themselves in the island, since the convicts intended to reside there, and
since, in the event of the "Speedy" departing on an expedition, it was
probable that some of the crew would remain on shore, so as to settle
themselves there. Therefore, it would be necessary to fight, to destroy
every one of these scoundrels, unworthy of pity, and against whom any means
would be right. So thought Ayrton, and he well knew that Cyrus Harding
would be of his way of thinking.

But was resistance and, in the last place, victory possible? That would
depend on the equipment of the brig, and the number of men which she
carried.

This Ayrton resolved to learn at any cost, and as an hour after his
arrival the vociferations had begun to die away, and as a large number of
the convicts were already buried in a drunken sleep, Ayrton did not
hesitate to venture onto the "Speedy's" deck, which the extinguished
lanterns now left in total darkness. He hoisted himself onto the cutwater,
and by the bowsprit arrived at the forecastle. Then, gliding among the
convicts stretched here and there, he made the round of the ship, and found
that the "Speedy" carried four guns, which would throw shot of from eight
to ten pounds in weight. He found also, on touching them that these guns
were breech-loaders. They were therefore, of modern make, easily used, and
of terrible effect.

As to the men lying on the deck, they were about ten in number, but it
was to be supposed that more were sleeping down below. Besides, by
listening to them, Ayrton had understood that there were fifty on board.
That was a large number for the six settlers of Lincoln Island to contend
with! But now, thanks to Ayrton's devotion, Cyrus Harding would not be
surprised, he would know the strength of his adversaries, and would make
his arrangements accordingly.

There was nothing more for Ayrton to do but to return, and render to his
companions an account of the mission with which he had charged himself, and
he prepared to regain the bows of the brig, so that he might let himself
down into the water. But to this man, whose wish was, as he had said, to do
more than his duty, there came an heroic thought. This was to sacrifice his
own life, but save the island and the colonists. Cyrus Harding evidently
could not resist fifty ruffians, all well armed, who, either by penetrating
by main force into Granite House, or by starving out the besieged, could
obtain from them what they wanted. And then he thought of his
preservers--those who had made him again a man, and an honest mm, those to
whom he owed all--murdered without pity, their works destroyed, their island
turned into a pirates' den! He said to himself that he, Ayrton, was the
principal cause of so many disasters, since his old companion, Bob Harvey,
had but realized his own plans, and a feeling of horror took possession of
him. Then he was seized with an irresistible desire to blow up the brig and
with her, all whom she had on board. He would perish in the explosion, but
he would have done his duty.

Ayrton did not hesitate. To reach the powder-room, which is always
situated in the after-part of a vessel, was easy. There would be no want of
powder in a vessel which followed such a trade, and a spark would be enough
to destroy it in an instant.

Ayrton stole carefully along the between-decks, strewn with numerous
sleepers, overcome more by drunkenness than sleep. A lantern was lighted
at the foot of the mainmast, round which was hung a gun-rack, furnished
with weapons of all sorts.

Ayrton took a revolver from the rack, and assured himself that it was
loaded and primed. Nothing more was needed to accomplish the work of
destruction. He then glided towards the stern, so as to arrive under the
brig's poop at the powder-magazine.

It was difficult to proceed along the dimly lighted deck without
stumbling over some half-sleeping convict, who retorted by oaths and kicks.
Ayrton was, therefore, more than once obliged to halt. But at last he
arrived at the partition dividing the aftercabin, and found the door
opening into the magazine itself.

Ayrton, compelled to force it open, set to work. It was a difficult
operation to perform without noise, for he had to break a padlock. But
under his vigorous hand, the padlock broke, and the door was open.

At that moment a hand was laid on Ayrton's shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" asked a tail man, in a harsh voice, who,
standing in the shadow, quickly threw the light of a lantern in Ayrton's
face.

Ayrton drew beck. In the rapid flash of the lantern, he had recognized
his former accomplice, Bob Harvey, who could not have known him, as he must
have thought Ayrton long since dead.

"What are you doing here?" again said Bob Harvey, seizing Ayrton by the
waistband.

But Ayrton, without replying, wrenched himself from his grasp and
attempted to rush into the magazine. A shot fired into the midst of the
powder-casks, and all would be over!

"Help, lads!" shouted Bob Harvey.

At his shout two or three pirates awoke, jumped up, and, rushing on
Ayrton, endeavored to throw him down. He soon extricated himself from their
grasp. He fired his revolver, and two of the convicts fell, but a blow from
a knife which he could not ward off made a gash in his shoulder.

Ayrton perceived that he could no longer hope to carry out his project.
Bob Harvey had reclosed the door of the powder-magazine, and a movement on
the deck indicated a general awakening of the pirates. Ayrton must reserve
himself to fight at the side of Cyrus Harding. There was nothing for him
but flight!

But was flight still possible? It was doubtful, yet Ayrton resolved to
dare everything in order to rejoin his companions.

Four barrels of the revolver were still undischarged. Two were fired--
one, aimed at Bob Harvey, did not wound him, or at any rate only slightly,
and Ayrton, profiting by the momentary retreat of his adversaries, rushed
towards the companion-ladder to gain the deck. Passing before the lantern,
he smashed it with a blow from the butt of his revolver. A profound
darkness ensued, which favored his flight. Two or three pirates, awakened
by the noise, were descending the ladder at the same moment.

A fifth shot from Ayrton laid one low, and the others drew back, not
understanding what was going on. Ayrton was on deck in two bounds, and
three seconds later, having discharged his last barrel in the face of a
pirate who was about to seize him by the throat, he leaped over the
bulwarks into the sea.

Ayrton had not made six strokes before shots were splashing around him
like hail.

What were Pencroft's feelings, sheltered under a rock on the islet! What
were those of Harding, the reporter, Herbert, and Neb, crouched in the
Chimneys, when they heard the reports on board the brig! They rushed out on
to the beach, and, their guns shouldered, they stood ready to repel any
attack.

They had no doubt about it themselves! Ayrton, surprised by the pirates,
had been murdered, and, perhaps, the wretches would profit by the night to
make a descent on the island!

Half an hour was passed in terrible anxiety. The firing had ceased, and
yet neither Ayrton nor Pencroft had reappeared. Was the islet invaded?
Ought they not to fly to the help of Ayrton and Pencroft? But how? The tide
being high at that time, rendered the channel impassable. The boat was not
there! We may imagine the horrible anxiety which took possession of Harding
and his companions!

At last, towards half-past twelve, a boat, carrying two men, touched the
beach. It was Ayrton, slightly wounded in the shoulder, and Pencroft, safe
and sound, whom their friends received with open arms.

All immediately took refuge in the Chimneys. There Ayrton recounted all
that had passed, even to his plan for blowing up the brig, which he had
attempted to put into execution.

All hands were extended to Ayrton, who did not conceal from them that
their situation was serious. The pirates had been alarmed. They knew that
Lincoln Island was inhabited. They would land upon it in numbers and well
armed. They would respect nothing. Should the settlers fall into their
hands, they must expect no mercy!

"Well, we shall know how to die!" said the reporter.

"Let us go in and watch," answered the engineer.

"Have we any chance of escape, captain?" asked the sailor.

"Yes, Pencroft."

"Hum! six against fifty!"

"Yes! six! without counting--"

"Who?" asked Pencroft.

Cyrus did not reply, but pointed upwards.

Chapter 3

The night passed without incident. The colonists were on the qui vive, and
did not leave their post at the Chimneys. The pirates, on their side, did
not appear to have made any attempt to land. Since the last shots fired at
Ayrton not a report, not even a sound, had betrayed the presence of the
brig in the neighborhood of the island. It might have been fancied that she
had weighed anchor, thinking that she had to deal with her match, and had
left the coast.

But it was no such thing, and when day began to dawn the settlers could
see a confused mass through the morning mist. It was the "Speedy."

"These, my friends," said the engineer, "are the arrangements which
appear to me best to make before the fog completely clears away. It hides
us from the eyes of the pirates, and we can act without attracting their
attention. The most important thing is, that the convicts should believe
that the inhabitants of the island are numerous, and consequently capable
of resisting them. I therefore propose that we divide into three parties.
The first of which shall be posted at the Chimneys, the second at the mouth
of the Mercy. As to the third, I think it would be best to place it on the
islet, so as to prevent, or at all events delay, any attempt at landing. We
have the use of two rifles and four muskets. Each of us will be armed, and,
as we are amply provided with powder and shot, we need not spare our fire.
We have nothing to fear from the muskets nor even from the guns of the
brig. What can they do against these rocks? And, as we shall not fire from
the windows of Granite House, the pirates will not think of causing
irreparable damage by throwing shell against it. What is to be feared is,
the necessity of meeting hand-to-hand, since the convicts have numbers on
their side. We must therefore try to prevent them from landing, but without
discovering ourselves. Therefore, do not economize the ammunition. Fire
often, but with a sure aim. We have each eight or ten enemies to kill, and
they must be killed!"

Cyrus Harding had clearly represented their situation, although he spoke
in the calmest voice, as if it was a question of directing a piece of work
and not ordering a battle. His companions approved these arrangements
without even uttering a word. There was nothing more to be done but for
each to take his place before the fog should be completely dissipated. Neb
and Pencroft immediately ascended to Granite House and brought back a
sufficient quantity of ammunition. Gideon Spilett and Ayrton, both very
good marksmen, were armed with the two rifles, which carried nearly a mile.
The four other muskets were divided among Harding, Neb, Pencroft, and
Herbert.

The posts were arranged in the following manner:--

Cyrus Harding and Herbert remained in ambush at the Chimneys, thus
commanding the shore to the foot of Granite House.

Gideon Spilett and Neb crouched among the rocks at the mouth of the
Mercy, from which the drawbridges had been raised, so as to prevent any one
from crossing in a boat or landing on the opposite shore.

As to Ayrton and Pencroft, they shoved off in the boat, and prepared to
cross the channel and to take up two separate stations on the islet. In
this way, shots being fired from four different points at once, the
convicts would be led to believe that the island was both largely peopled
and strongly defended.

In the event of a landing being effected without their having been able
to prevent it, and also if they saw that they were on the point of being
cut off by the brig's boat, Ayrton and Pencroft were to return in their
boat to the shore and proceed towards the threatened spot.

Before starting to occupy their posts, the colonists for the last time
wrung each other's hands.

Pencroft succeeded in controlling himself sufficiently to suppress his
emotion when he embraced Herbert, his boy! and then they separated.

In a few moments Harding and Herbert on one side, the reporter and Neb on
the other, had disappeared behind the rocks, and five minutes later Ayrton
and Pencroft, having without difficulty crossed the channel, disembarked on
the islet and concealed themselves in the clefts of its eastern shore.

None of them could have been seen, for they themselves could scarcely
distinguish the brig in the fog.

It was half-past six in the morning.

Soon the fog began to clear away, and the topmasts of the brig issued
from the vapor. For some minutes great masses rolled over the surface of
the sea, then a breeze sprang up, which rapidly dispelled the mist.

The "Speedy" now appeared in full view, with a spring on her cable, her
head to the north, presenting her larboard side to the island. Just as
Harding had calculated, she was not more than a mile and a quarter from the
coast.

The sinister black flag floated from the peak.

The engineer, with his telescope, could see that the four guns on board
were pointed at the island. They were evidently ready to fire at a moment's
notice.

In the meanwhile the "Speedy" remained silent. About thirty pirates could
be seen moving on the deck. A few more on the poop; two others posted in
the shrouds, and armed with spyglasses, were attentively surveying the
island.

Certainly, Bob Harvey and his crew would not be able easily to give an
account of what had happened during the night on board the brig. Had this
half-naked man, who had forced the door of the powder-magazine, and with
whom they had struggled, who had six times discharged his revolver at them,
who had killed one and wounded two others, escaped their shot? Had he been
able to swim to shore? Whence did he come? What had been his object? Had
his design really been to blow up the brig, as Bob Harvey had thought? All
this must be confused enough to the convicts' minds. But what they could no
longer doubt was that the unknown island before which the "Speedy" had cast
anchor was inhabited, and that there was, perhaps, a numerous colony ready
to defend it. And yet no one was to be seen, neither on the shore, nor on
the heights. The beach appeared to be absolutely deserted. At any rate,
there was no trace of dwellings. Had the inhabitants fled into the
interior? Thus probably the pirate captain reasoned, and doubtless, like a
prudent man, he wished to reconnoiter the locality before he allowed his
men to venture there.

During an hour and a half, no indication of attack or landing could be
observed on board the brig. Evidently Bob Harvey was hesitating. Even with
his strongest telescopes he could not have perceived one of the settlers
crouched among the rocks. It was not even probable that his attention had
been awakened by the screen of green branches and creepers hiding the
windows of Granite House, and showing rather conspicuously on the bare
rock. Indeed, how could he imagine that a dwelling was hollowed out, at
that height, in the solid granite? From Claw Cape to the Mandible Capes, in
all the extent of Union Bay, there was nothing to lead him to suppose that
the island was or could be inhabited.

At eight o'clock, however, the colonists observed a movement on board the
"Speedy." A boat was lowered, and seven men jumped into her. They were
armed with muskets; one took the yoke-lines, four others the oars, and the
two others, kneeling in the bows, ready to fire, reconnoitered the island.
Their object was no doubt to make an examination but not to land, for in
the latter case they would have come in larger numbers. The pirates from
their look-out could have seen that the coast was sheltered by an islet,
separated from it by a channel half a mile in width. However, it was soon
evident to Cyrus Harding, on observing the direction followed by the boat,
that they would not attempt to penetrate into the channel, but would land
on the islet.

Pencroft and Ayrton, each hidden in a narrow cleft of the rock, saw them
coming directly towards them, and waited till they were within range.

The boat advanced with extreme caution. The oars only dipped into the
water at long intervals. It could now be seen that one of the convicts held
a lead-line in his hand, and that he wished to fathom the depth of the
channel hollowed out by the current of the Mercy. This showed that it was
Bob Harvey's intention to bring his brig as near as possible to the coast.
About thirty pirates, scattered in the rigging, followed every movement of
the boat, and took the bearings of certain landmarks which would allow them
to approach without danger. The boat was not more than two cables-lengths
off the islet when she stopped. The man at the tiller stood up and looked
for the best place at which to land.

At that moment two shots were heard. Smoke curled up from among the rocks
of the islet. The man at the helm and the man with the lead-line fell
backwards into the boat. Ayrton's and Pencroft's balls had struck them both
at the same moment.

Almost immediately a louder report was heard, a cloud of smoke issued
from the brig's side, and a ball, striking the summit of the rock which
sheltered Ayrton and Pencroft, made it fly in splinters, but the two
marksmen remained unhurt.

Horrible imprecations burst from the boat, which immediately continued
its way. The man who had been at the tiller was replaced by one of his
comrades, and the oars were rapidly plunged into the water. However,
instead of returning on board as might have been expected, the boat coasted
along the islet, so as to round its southern point. The pirates pulled
vigorously at their oars that they might get out of range of the bullets.

They advanced to within five cables-lengths of that part of the shore
terminated by Flotsam Point, and after having rounded it in a semicircular
line, still protected by the brig's guns, they proceeded towards the mouth
of the Mercy.

Their evident intention was to penetrate into the channel, and cut off
the colonists posted on the islet, in such a way, that whatever their
number might be, being placed between the fire from the boat and the fire
from the brig, they would find themselves in a very disadvantageous
position.

A quarter of an hour passed while the boat advanced in this direction.
Absolute silence, perfect calm reigned in the air and on the water.

Pencroft and Ayrton, although they knew they ran the risk of being cut
off, had not left their post, both that they did not wish to show
themselves as yet to their assailants, and expose themselves to the
"Speedy's" guns, and that they relied on Neb and Gideon Spilett, watching
at the mouth of the river, and on Cyrus Harding and Herbert, in ambush
among the rocks at the Chimneys.

Twenty minutes after the first shots were fired, the boat was less than
two cables-lengths off the Mercy. As the tide was beginning to rise with
its accustomed violence, caused by the narrowness of the straits, the
pirates were drawn towards the river, and it was only by dint of hard
rowing that they were able to keep in the middle of the channel. But, as
they were passing within good range of the mouth of the Mercy, two balls
saluted them, and two more of their number were laid in the bottom of the
boat. Neb and Spilett had not missed their aim.

The brig immediately sent a second ball on the post betrayed by the
smoke, but without any other result than that of splintering the rock.

The boat now contained only three able men. Carried on by the current, it
shot through the channel with the rapidity of an arrow, passed before
Harding and Herbert, who, not thinking it within range, withheld their
fire, then, rounding the northern point of the islet with the two remaining
oars, they pulled towards the brig.

Hitherto the settlers had nothing to complain of. Their adversaries had
certainly had the worst of it. The latter already counted four men
seriously wounded if not dead; they, on the contrary, unwounded, had not
missed a shot. If the pirates continued to attack them in this way, if they
renewed their attempt to land by means of a boat, they could be destroyed
one by one.

It was now seen how advantageous the engineer's arrangements had been.
The pirates would think that they had to deal with numerous and well-armed
adversaries, whom they could not easily get the better of.

Half an hour passed before the boat, having to pull against the current,
could get alongside the "Speedy." Frightful cries were heard when they
returned on board with the wounded, and two or three guns were fired with
no results.

But now about a dozen other convicts, maddened with rage, and possibly by
the effect of the evening's potations, threw themselves into the boat. A
second boat was also lowered, in which eight men took their places, and
while the first pulled straight for the islet, to dislodge the colonists
from thence the second maneuvered so as to force the entrance of the Mercy.

The situation was evidently becoming very dangerous for Pencroft and
Ayrton, and they saw that they must regain the mainland.

However, they waited till the first boat was within range, when two well-
directed balls threw its crew into disorder. Then, Pencroft and Ayrton,
abandoning their posts, under fire from the dozen muskets, ran across the
islet at full speed, jumped into their boat, crossed the channel at the
moment the second boat reached the southern end, and ran to hide themselves
in the Chimneys.

They had scarcely rejoined Cyrus Harding and Herbert, before the islet
was overrun with pirates in every direction. Almost at the same moment,
fresh reports resounded from the Mercy station, to which the second boat
was rapidly approaching. Two, out of the eight men who manned her, were
mortally wounded by Gideon Spilett and Neb, and the boat herself, carried
irresistibly onto the reefs, was stove in at the mouth of the Mercy. But
the six survivors, holding their muskets above their heads to preserve them
from contact with the water, managed to land on the right bank of the
river. Then, finding they were exposed to the fire of the ambush there,
they fled in the direction of Flotsam Point, out of range of the balls.

The actual situation was this: on the islet were a dozen convicts, of
whom some were no doubt wounded, but who had still a boat at their
disposal; on the island were six, but who could not by any possibility
reach Granite House, as they could not cross the river, all the bridges
being raised.

"Hallo," exclaimed Pencroft as he rushed into the Chimneys, "hallo,
captain! What do you think of it, now?"

"I think," answered the engineer, "that the combat will now take a new
form, for it cannot be supposed that the convicts will be so foolish as to
remain in a position so unfavorable for them!"

"They won't cross the channel," said the sailor. "Ayrton and Mr.
Spilett's rifles are there to prevent them. You know that they carry more
than a mile!"

"No doubt," replied Herbert; "but what can two rifles do against the
brig's guns?"

"Well, the brig isn't in the channel yet, I fancy!" said Pencroft.

"But suppose she does come there?" said Harding.

"That's impossible, for she would risk running aground and being lost!"

"It is possible," said Ayrton. "The convicts might profit by the high
tide to enter the channel, with the risk of grounding at low tide, it is
true; but then, under the fire from her guns, our posts would be no longer
tenable."

"Confound them!" exclaimed Pencroft, "it really seems as if the
blackguards were preparing to weigh anchor."

"Perhaps we shall be obliged to take refuge in Granite House!" observed
Herbert.

"We must wait!" answered Cyrus Harding.

"But Mr. Spilett and Neb?" said Pencroft.

"They will know when it is best to rejoin us. Be ready, Ayrton. It is
yours and Spilett's rifles which must speak now."

It was only too true. The "Speedy" was beginning to weigh her anchor, and
her intention was evidently to approach the islet. The tide would be rising
for an hour and a half, and the ebb current being already weakened, it
would be easy for the brig to advance. But as to entering the channel,
Pencroft, contrary to Ayrton's opinion, could not believe that she would
dare to attempt it.

In the meanwhile, the pirates who occupied the islet had gradually
advanced to the opposite shore, and were now only separated from the
mainland by the channel.

Being armed with muskets alone, they could do no harm to the settlers, in
ambush at the Chimneys and the mouth of the Mercy; but, not knowing the
latter to be supplied with long-range rifles, they on their side did not
believe themselves to be exposed. Quite uncovered, therefore, they surveyed
the islet, and examined the shore.

Their illusion was of short duration. Ayrton's and Gideon Spilett's
rifles then spoke, and no doubt imparted some very disagreeable
intelligence to two of the convicts, for they fell backwards.

Then there was a general helter-skelter. The ten others, not even
stopping to pick up their dead or wounded companions, fled to the other
side of the islet, tumbled into the boat which had brought them, and pulled
away with all their strength.

"Eight less!" exclaimed Pencroft. "Really, one would have thought that
Mr. Spilett and Ayrton had given the word to fire together!"

"Gentlemen," said Ayrton, as he reloaded his gun, "this is becoming more
serious. The brig is making sail!"

"The anchor is weighed!" exclaimed Pencroft.

"Yes, and she is already moving."

In fact, they could distinctly hear the creaking of the windlass. The
"Speedy" was at first held by her anchor; then, when that had been raised,
she began to drift towards the shore. The wind was blowing from the sea;
the jib and the foretopsail were hoisted, and the vessel gradually
approached the island.

From the two posts of the Mercy and the Chimneys they watched her without
giving a sign of life, but not without some emotion. What could be more
terrible for the colonists than to be exposed, at a short distance, to the
brig's guns, without being able to reply with any effect? How could they
then prevent the pirates from landing?

Cyrus Harding felt this strongly, and he asked himself what it would be
possible to do. Before long, he would be called upon for his determination.
But what was it to be? To shut themselves up in Granite House, to be
besieged there, to remain there for weeks, for months even, since they had
an abundance of provisions? So far good! But after that? The pirates would
not the less be masters of the island, which they would ravage at their
pleasure, and in time, they would end by having their revenge on the
prisoners in Granite House.

However, one chance yet remained; it was that Bob Harvey, after all,
would not venture his ship into the channel, and that he would keep outside
the islet. He would be still separated from the coast by half a mile, and
at that distance his shot could not be very destructive.

"Never!" repeated Pencroft, "Bob Harvey will never, if he is a good
seaman, enter that channel! He knows well that it would risk the brig, if
the sea got up ever so little! And what would become of him without his
vessel?"

In the meanwhile the brig approached the islet, and it could be seen that
she was endeavoring to make the lower end. The breeze was light, and as the
current had then lost much of its force, Bob Harvey had absolute command
over his vessel.

The route previously followed by the boats had allowed her to reconnoiter
the channel, and she boldly entered it.

The pirate's design was now only too evident; he wished to bring her
broadside to bear on the Chimneys and from there to reply with shell and
ball to the shot which had till then decimated her crew.

Soon the "Speedy" reached the point of the islet; she rounded it with
ease; the mainsail was braced up, and the brig hugging the wind, stood
across the mouth of the Mercy.

"The scoundrels! they are coming!" said Pencroft.

At that moment, Cyrus Harding, Ayrton, the sailor, and Herbert, were
rejoined by Neb and Gideon Spilett.

The reporter and his companion had judged it best to abandon the post at
the Mercy, from which they could do nothing against the ship, and they had
acted wisely. It was better that the colonists should be together at the
moment when they were about to engage in a decisive action. Gideon Spilett
and Neb had arrived by dodging behind the rocks, though not without
attracting a shower of bullets, which had not, however, reached them.

"Spilett! Neb!" cried the engineer. "You are not wounded?"

"No," answered the reporter, "a few bruises only from the ricochet! But
that cursed brig has entered the channel!"

"Yes," replied Pencroft, "and in ten minutes she will have anchored
before Granite House!"

"Have you formed any plan, Cyrus?" asked the reporter.

"We must take refuge in Granite House while there is still time, and the
convicts cannot see us."

"That is, my opinion, too," replied Gideon Spilett, "but once shut up--"

"We must be guided by circumstances," said the engineer.

"Let us be off, then, and make haste!" said the reporter.

"Would you not wish, captain, that Ayrton and I should remain here?"
asked the sailor.

"What would be the use of that, Pencroft?" replied Harding. "No. We will
not separate!"

There was not a moment to be lost. The colonists left the Chimneys. A
bend of the cliff prevented them from being seen by those in the brig, but
two or three reports, and the crash of bullets on the rock, told them that
the "Speedy" was at no great distance.

To spring into the lift, hoist themselves up to the door of Granite
House, where Top and Jup had been shut up since the evening before, to rush
into the large room, was the work of a minute only.

It was quite time, for the settlers, through the branches, could see the
"Speedy," surrounded with smoke, gliding up the channel. The firing was
incessant, and shot from the four guns struck blindly, both on the Mercy
post, although it was not occupied, and on the Chimneys. The rocks were
splintered, and cheers accompanied each discharge. However, they were
hoping that Granite House would be spared, thanks to Harding's precaution
of concealing the windows when a shot, piercing the door, penetrated into
the passage.

"We are discovered!" exclaimed Pencroft.

The colonists had not, perhaps, been seen, but it was certain that Bob
Harvey had thought proper to send a ball through the suspected foliage
which concealed that part of the cliff. Soon he redoubled his attack, when
another ball having torn away the leafy screen, disclosed a gaping aperture
in the granite.

The colonists' situation was desperate. Their retreat was discovered.
They could not oppose any obstacle to these missiles, nor protect the
stone, which flew in splinters around them. There was nothing to be done
but to take refuge in the upper passage of Granite House, and leave their
dwelling to be devastated, when a deep roar was heard, followed by
frightful cries!

Cyrus Harding and his companions rushed to one of the windows--

The brig, irresistibly raised on a sort of water-spout, had just split in
two, and in less than ten seconds she was swallowed up with all her
criminal crew!

Chapter 4

"She has blown up!" cried Herbert.

"Yes! blown up, just as if Ayrton had set fire to the powder!" returned
Pencroft, throwing himself into the lift together with Neb and the lad.

"But what has happened?" asked Gideon Spilett, quite stunned by this
unexpected catastrophe.

"Oh! this time, we shall know--" answered the engineer quickly.

"What shall we know?--"

"Later! later! Come, Spilett. The main point is that these pirates have
been exterminated!"

And Cyrus Harding, hurrying away the reporter and Ayrton, joined
Pencroft, Neb, and Herbert on the beach.

Nothing could be seen of the brig, not even her masts. After having been
raised by the water-spout, she had fallen on her side, and had sunk in that
position, doubtless in consequence of some enormous leak. But as in that
place the channel was not more than twenty feet in depth, it was certain
that the sides of the submerged brig would reappear at low water.

A few things from the wreck floated on the surface of the water, a raft
could be seen consisting of spare spars, coops of poultry with their
occupants still living, boxes and barrels, which gradually came to the
surface, after having escaped through the hatchways, but no pieces of the
wreck appeared, neither planks from the deck, nor timber from the hull,--
which rendered the sudden disappearance of the "Speedy" perfectly
inexplicable.

However, the two masts, which had been broken and escaped from the
shrouds and stays came up, and with their sails, some furled and the others
spread. But it was not necessary to wait for the tide to bring up these
riches, and Ayrton and Pencroft jumped into the boat with the intention of
towing the pieces of wreck either to the beach or to the islet. But just as
they were shoving off, an observation from Gideon Spilett arrested them.

"What about those six convicts who disembarked on the right bank of the
Mercy?" said he.

In fact, it would not do to forget that the six men whose boat had gone
to pieces on the rocks had landed at Flotsam Point.

They looked in that direction. None of the fugitives were visible. It was
probable that, having seen their vessel engulfed in the channel, they had
fled into the interior of the island.

"We will deal with them later," said Harding. "As they are armed, they
will still be dangerous; but as it is six against six, the chances are
equal. To the most pressing business first."

Ayrton and Pencroft pulled vigorously towards the wreck.

The sea was calm and the tide very high, as there had been a new moon but
two days before. A whole hour at least would elapse before the hull of the
brig could emerge from the water of the channel.

Ayrton and Pencroft were able to fasten the masts and spars by means of
ropes, the ends of which were carried to the beach. There, by the united
efforts of the settlers the pieces of wreck were hauled up. Then the boat
picked up all that was floating, coops, barrels, and boxes, which were
immediately carried to the Chimneys.

Several bodies floated also. Among them, Ayrton recognized that of Bob
Harvey, which he pointed out to his companion, saying with some emotion,--

"That is what I have been, Pencroft."

"But what you are no longer, brave Ayrton!" returned the sailor warmly.

It was singular enough that so few bodies floated. Only five or six were
counted, which were already being carried by the current towards the open
sea. Very probably the convicts had not had time to escape, and the ship
lying over on her side, the greater number of them had remained below. Now
the current, by carrying the bodies of these miserable men out to sea,
would spare the colonists the sad task of burying them in some corner of
their island.

For two hours, Cyrus Harding and his companions were solely occupied in
hauling up the spars on to the sand, and then in spreading the sails which
were perfectly uninjured, to dry. They spoke little, for they were absorbed
in their work, but what thoughts occupied their minds!

The possession of this brig, or rather all that she contained, was a
perfect mine of wealth. In fact, a ship is like a little world in
miniature, and the stores of the colony would be increased by a large
number of useful articles. It would be, on a large scale, equivalent to the
chest found at Flotsam Point.

"And besides," thought Pencroft, "why should it be impossible to refloat
the brig? If she has only a leak, that may be stopped up; a vessel from
three to four hundred tons, why she is a regular ship compared to our
'Bonadventure'! And we could go a long distance in her! We could go
anywhere we liked! Captain Harding, Ayrton and I must examine her! She
would be well worth the trouble!"

In fact, if the brig was still fit to navigate, the colonists' chances of
returning to their native land were singularly increased. But, to decide
this important question, it was necessary to wait until the tide was quite
low, so that every part of the brig's hull might be examined.

When their treasures had been safely conveyed on shore, Harding and his
companions agreed to devote some minutes to breakfast. They were almost
famished; fortunately, the larder was not far off, and Neb was noted for
being an expeditious cook. They breakfasted, therefore, near the Chimneys,
and during their repast, as may be supposed, nothing was talked of but the
event which had so miraculously saved the colony.

"Miraculous is the word," repeated Pencroft, "for it must be acknowledged
that those rascals blew up just at the right moment! Granite House was
beginning to be uncomfortable as a habitation!"

"And can you guess, Pencroft," asked the reporter, "how it happened, or
what can have occasioned the explosion?"

"Oh! Mr. Spilett, nothing is more simple," answered Pencroft. "A convict
vessel is not disciplined like a man-of-war! Convicts are not sailors. Of
course the powder-magazine was open, and as they were firing incessantly,
some careless or clumsy fellow just blew up the vessel!"

"Captain Harding," said Herbert, "what astonishes me is that the
explosion has not produced more effect. The report was not loud, and
besides there are so few planks and timbers torn out. It seems as if the
ship had rather foundered than blown up."

"Does that astonish you, my boy?" asked the engineer.

"Yes, captain."

"And it astonishes me also, Herbert," replied he, "but when we visit the
hull of the brig, we shall no doubt find the explanation of the matter."

"Why, captain," said Pencroft, "you don't suppose that the 'Speedy'
simply foundered like a ship which has struck on a rock?"

"Why not," observed Neb, "if there are rocks in the channel?"

"Nonsense, Neb," answered Pencroft, "you did not look at the right
moment. An instant before she sank, the brig, as I saw perfectly well, rose
on an enormous wave, and fell back on her larboard side. Now, if she had
only struck, she would have sunk quietly and gone to the bottom like an
honest vessel."

"It was just because she was not an honest vessel!" returned Neb.

"Well, we shall soon see, Pencroft," said the engineer.

"We shall soon see," rejoined the sailor, "but I would wager my head
there are no rocks in the channel. Look here, captain, to speak candidly,
do you mean to say that there is anything marvelous in the occurrence?"

Cyrus Harding did not answer.

"At any rate," said Gideon Spilett, "whether rock or explosion, you will
agree, Pencroft, that it occurred just in the nick of time!"

"Yes! yes!" replied the sailor, "but that is not the question. I ask
Captain Harding if he sees anything supernatural in all this."

"I cannot say, Pencroft," said the engineer. "That is all the answer I
can make."

A reply which did not satisfy Pencroft at all. He stuck to "an
explosion," and did not wish to give it up. He would never consent to admit
that in that channel, with its fine sandy bed, just like the beach, which
he had often crossed at low water, there could be an unknown rock.

And besides, at the time the brig foundered, it was high water, that is
to say, there was enough water to carry the vessel clear over any rocks
which would not be uncovered at low tide. Therefore, there could not have
been a collision. Therefore, the vessel had not struck. So she had blown
up.

And it must be confessed that the sailor's arguments were reasonable.

Towards half-past one, the colonists embarked in the boat to visit the
wreck. It was to be regretted that the brig's two boats had not been saved;
but one, as has been said, had gone to pieces at the mouth of the Mercy,
and was absolutely useless; the other had disappeared when the brig went
down, and had not again been seen, having doubtless been crushed.

The hull of the "Speedy" was just beginning to issue from the water. The
brig was lying right over on her side, for her masts being broken, pressed
down by the weight of the ballast displaced by the shock, the keel was
visible along her whole length. She had been regularly turned over by the
inexplicable but frightful submarine action, which had been at the same
time manifested by an enormous water-spout.

The settlers rowed round the hull, and in proportion as the tide went
down, they could ascertain, if not the cause which had occasioned the
catastrophe, at least the effect produced.

Towards the bows, on both sides of the keel, seven or eight feet from the
beginning of the stem, the sides of the brig were frightfully torn. Over a
length of at least twenty feet there opened two large leaks, which would be
impossible to stop up. Not only had the copper sheathing and the planks
disappeared, reduced, no doubt, to powder, but also the ribs, the iron
bolts, and treenalls which united them. From the entire length of the hull
to the stern the false keel had been separated with an unaccountable
violence, and the keel itself, torn from the carline in several places, was
split in all its length.

"I've a notion!" exclaimed Pencroft, "that this vessel will be difficult
to get afloat again."

"It will be impossible," said Ayrton.

"At any rate," observed Gideon Spilett to the sailor, "the explosion, if
there has been one, has produced singular effects! It has split the lower
part of the hull, instead of blowing up the deck and topsides! These great
rents appear rather to have been made by a rock than by the explosion of a
powder-magazine."

"There is not a rock in the channel!" answered the sailor. "I will admit
anything you like, except the rock."

"Let us try to penetrate into the interior of the brig," said the
engineer; "perhaps we shall then know what to think of the cause of her
destruction."

This was the best thing to be done, and it was agreed, besides, to take
an inventory of all the treasures on board, and to arrange their
preservation.

Access to the interior of the brig was now easy. The tide was still going
down and the deck was practicable. The ballast, composed of heavy masses of
iron, had broken through in several places. The noise of the sea could be
heard as it rushed out at the holes in the hull.

Cyrus Harding and his companions, hatchets in hand, advanced along the
shattered deck. Cases of all sorts encumbered it, and, as they had been but
a very short time in the water, their contents were perhaps uninjured.

They then busied themselves in placing all this cargo in safety. The
water would not return for several hours, and these hours must be employed
in the most profitable way. Ayrton and Pencroft had, at the entrance made
in the hull, discovered tackle, which would serve to hoist up the barrels
and chests. The boat received them and transported them to the shore. They
took the articles as they came, intending to sort them afterwards.

At any rate, the settlers saw at once, with extreme satisfaction, that
the brig possessed a very varied cargo--an assortment of all sorts of
articles, utensils, manufactured goods, and tools--such as the ships which
make the great coasting-trade of Polynesia are usually laden with. It was
probable that they would find a little of everything, and they agreed that
it was exactly what was necessary for the colony of Lincoln Island.

However-and Cyrus Harding observed it in silent astonishment-not only, as
has been said, had the hull of the brig enormously suffered from the shock,
whatever it was, that had occasioned the catastrophe, but the interior
arrangements had been destroyed, especially towards the bows. Partitions
and stanchions were smashed, as if some tremendous shell had burst in the
interior of the brig. The colonists could easily go fore and aft, after
having removed the cases as they were extricated. They were not heavy
bales, which would have been difficult to remove, but simple packages, of
which the stowage, besides, was no longer recognizable.

The colonists then reached the stern of the brig--the part formerly
surmounted by the poop. It was there that, following Ayrton's directions,
they must look for the powder-magazine. Cyrus Harding thought that it had
not exploded; that it was possible some barrels might be saved, and that
the powder, which is usually enclosed in metal coverings might not have
suffered from contact with the water.

This, in fact, was just what had happened. They extricated from among a
large number of shot twenty barrels, the insides of which were lined with
copper. Pencroft was convinced by the evidence of his own eyes that the
destruction of the "Speedy" could not be attributed to an explosion. That
part of the hull in which the magazine was situated was, moreover, that
which had suffered least.

"It may be so," said the obstinate sailor; "but as to a rock, there is
not one in the channel!"

"Then, how did it happen?" asked Herbert.

"I don't know," answered Pencroft, "Captain Harding doesn't know, and
nobody knows or ever will know!"

Several hours had passed during these researches, and the tide began to
flow. Work must be suspended for the present. There was no fear of the brig
being carried away by the sea, for she was already fixed as firmly as if
moored by her anchors.

They could, therefore, without inconvenience, wait until the next day to
resume operations; but, as to the vessel itself, she was doomed, and it
would be best to hasten to save the remains of her hull, as she would not
be long in disappearing in the quicksands of the channel.

It was now five o'clock in the evening. It had been a hard day's work for
the men. They ate with good appetite, and notwithstanding their fatigue,
they could not resist, after dinner, their desire of inspecting the cases
which composed the cargo of the "Speedy."

Most of them contained clothes, which, as may be believed, was well
received. There were enough to clothe a whole colony--linen for every one's
use, shoes for every one's feet.

"We are too rich!" exclaimed Pencroft, "But what are we going to do with
all this?"

And every moment burst forth the hurrahs of the delighted sailor when he
caught sight of the barrels of gunpowder, firearms and sidearms, balls of
cotton, implements of husbandry, carpenter's, joiner's, and blacksmith's
tools, and boxes of all kinds of seeds, not in the least injured by their
short sojourn in the water. Ah, two years before, how these things would
have been prized! And now, even though the industrious colonists had
provided themselves with tools, these treasures would find their use.

There was no want of space in the store-rooms of Granite House, but that
daytime would not allow them to stow away the whole. It would not do also
to forget that the six survivors of the "Speedy's" crew had landed on the
island, for they were in all probability scoundrels of the deepest dye, and
it was necessary that the colonists should be on their guard against them.
Although the bridges over the Mercy were raised, the convicts would not be
stopped by a river or a stream and, rendered desperate, these wretches
would be capable of anything.

They would see later what plan it would be best to follow; but in the
meantime it was necessary to mount guard over cases and packages heaped up
near the Chimneys, and thus the settlers employed themselves in turn during
the night.

The morning came, however, without the convicts having attempted any
attack. Master Jup and Top, on guard at the foot of Granite House, would
have quickly given the alarm. The three following day--the 19th, 20th, and
21st of October--were employed in saving everything of value, or of any use
whatever, either from the cargo or rigging of the brig. At low tide they
overhauled the hold--at high tide they stowed away the rescued articles. A
great part of the copper sheathing had been torn from the hull, which every
day sank lower. But before the sand had swallowed the heavy things which
had fallen through the bottom, Ayrton and Pencroft, diving to the bed of
the channel, recovered the chains and anchors of the brig, the iron of her
ballast, and even four guns, which, floated by means of empty casks, were
brought to shore.

It may be seen that the arsenal of the colony had gained by the wreck, as
well as the storerooms of Granite House. Pencroft, always enthusiastic in
his projects, already spoke of constructing a battery to command the
channel and the mouth of the river. With four guns, he engaged to prevent
any fleet, "however powerful it might be," from venturing into the waters
of Lincoln Island!

In the meantime, when nothing remained of the brig but a useless hulk,
bad weather came on, which soon finished her. Cyrus Harding had intended to
blow her up, so as to collect the remains on the shore, but a strong gale
from the northeast and a heavy sea compelled him to economize his powder.

In fact, on the night of the 23rd, the hull entirely broke up, and some
of the wreck was cast up on the beach.

As to the papers on board, it is useless to say that, although he
carefully searched the lockers of the poop, Harding did not discover any
trace of them. The pirates had evidently destroyed everything that
concerned either the captain or the owners of the "Speedy," and, as the
name of her port was not painted on her counter, there was nothing which
would tell them her nationality. However, by the shape of her boats Ayrton
and Pencroft believed that the brig was of English build.

A week after the castrophe--or, rather, after the fortunate, though
inexplicable, event to which the colony owed its preservation--nothing more
could be seen of the vessel, even at low tide. The wreck had disappeared,
and Granite House was enriched by nearly all it had contained.

However, the mystery which enveloped its strange destruction would
doubtless never have been cleared away if, on the 30th of November, Neb,
strolling on the beach, had not found a piece of a thick iron cylinder,
bearing traces of explosion. The edges of this cylinder were twisted and
broken, as if they had been subjected to the action of some explosive
substance.

Neb brought this piece of metal to his master, who was then occupied with
his companions in the workshop of the Chimneys.

Cyrus Harding examined the cylinder attentively, then, turning to
Pencroft,--

"You persist, my friend," said he, "in maintaining that the 'Speedy' was
not lost in consequence of a collision?"

"Yes, captain," answered the sailor. "You know as well as I do that there
are no rocks in the channel."

"But suppose she had run against this piece of iron?" said the engineer,
showing the broken cylinder.

"What, that bit of pipe!" exclaimed Pencroft in a tone of perfect
incredulity.

"My friends," resumed Harding, "you remember that before she foundered
the brig rose on the summit of a regular waterspout?"

"Yes, captain," replied Herbert.

"Well, would you like to know what occasioned that waterspout? It was
this," said the engineer, holding up the broken tube.

"That?" returned Pencroft.

"Yes! This cylinder is all that remains of a torpedo!"

"A torpedo!" exclaimed the engineer's companions.

"And who put the torpedo there?" demanded Pencroft, who did not like to
yield.

"All that I can tell you is, that it was not I," answered Cyrus Harding;
"but it was there, and you have been able to judge of its incomparable
power!"

Chapter 5

So, then, all was explained by the submarine explosion of this torpedo.
Cyrus Harding could not be mistaken, as, during the war of the Union, he
had had occasion to try these terrible engines of destruction. It was under
the action of this cylinder, charged with some explosive substance, nitro-
glycerine, picrate, or some other material of the same nature, that the
water of the channel had been raised like a dome, the bottom of the brig
crushed in, and she had sunk instantly, the damage done to her hull being so
considerable that it was impossible to refloat her. The "Speedy" had not
been able to withstand a torpedo that would have destroyed an ironclad as
easily as a fishing-boat!

Yes! all was explained, everything--except the presence of the torpedo in
the waters of the channel!

My friends, then," said Cyrus Harding, "we can no longer be in doubt as
to the presence of a mysterious being, a castaway like us, perhaps,
abandoned on our island, and I say this in order that Ayrton may be
acquainted with all the strange events which have occurred during these two
years. Who this beneficent stranger is, whose intervention has, so
fortunately for us, been manifested on many occasions, I cannot imagine.
What his object can be in acting thus, in concealing himself after
rendering us so many services, I cannot understand: But his services are
not the less real, and are of such a nature that only a man possessed of
prodigious power, could render them. Ayrton is indebted to him as much as
we are, for, if it was the stranger who saved me from the waves after the
fall from the balloon, evidently it was he who wrote the document, who
placed the bottle in the channel, and who has made known to us the
situation of our companion. I will add that it was he who guided that
chest, provided with everything we wanted, and stranded it on Flotsam
Point; that it was he who lighted that fire on the heights of the island,
which permitted you to land; that it was he who fired that bullet found in
the body of the peccary; that it was he who plunged that torpedo into the
channel, which destroyed the brig; in a word, that all those inexplicable
events, for which we could not assign a reason, are due to this mysterious
being. Therefore, whoever he may be, whether shipwrecked, or exiled on our
island, we shall be ungrateful, if we think ourselves freed from gratitude
towards him. We have contracted a debt, and I hope that we shall one day
pay it."

"You are right in speaking thus, my dear Cyrus," replied Gideon Spilett.
"Yes, there is an almost all-powerful being, hidden in some part of the
island, and whose influence has been singularly useful to our colony. I
will add that the unknown appears to possess means of action which border
on the supernatural, if in the events of practical life the supernatural
were recognizable. Is it he who is in secret communication with us by the
well in Granite House, and has he thus a knowledge of all our plans? Was it
he who threw us that bottle, when the vessel made her first cruise? Was it
he who threw Top out of the lake, and killed the dugong? Was it he, who as
everything leads us to believe, saved you from the waves, and that under
circumstances in which any one else would not have been able to act? If it
was he, he possesses a power which renders him master of the elements."

The reporter's reasoning was just, and every one felt it to be so.

"Yes," rejoined Cyrus Harding, "if the intervention of a human being is
not more questionable for us, I agree that he has at his disposal means of
action beyond those possessed by humanity. There is a mystery still, but if
we discover the man, the mystery will be discovered also. The question,
then, is, ought we to respect the incognito of this generous being, or
ought we to do everything to find him out? What is your opinion on the
matter?"

"My opinion," said Pencroft, "is that, whoever he may be, he is a brave
man, and he has my esteem!"

"Be it so," answered Harding, "but that is not an answer, Pencroft."

"Master," then said Neb, "my idea is, that we may search as long as we
like for this gentleman whom you are talking about, but that we shall not
discover him till he pleases."

"That's not bad, what you say, Neb," observed Pencroft.

"I am of Neb's opinion," said Gideon Spilett, "but that is no reason for
not attempting the adventure. Whether we find this mysterious being or not,
we shall at least have fulfilled our duty towards him."

"And you, my boy, give us your opinion," said the engineer, turning to
Herbert.

"Oh," cried Herbert, his countenance full of animation, "how I should
like to thank him, he who saved you first, and who has now saved us!"

"Of course, my boy," replied Pencroft, "so would I and all of us. I am
not inquisitive, but I would give one of my eyes to see this individual
face to face! It seems to me that he must be handsome, tall, strong, with a
splendid beard, radiant hair, and that he must be seated on clouds, a great
ball in his hands!"

"But, Pencroft," answered Spilett, "you are describing a picture of the
Creator."

"Possibly, Mr. Spilett," replied the sailor, "but that is how I imagine
him!"

"And you, Ayrton?" asked the engineer.

"Captain Harding," replied Ayrton, "I can give you no better advice in
this matter. Whatever you do will be best; when you wish me to join you in
your researches, I am ready to follow you.

"I thank you, Ayrton," answered Cyrus Harding, "but I should like a more
direct answer to the question I put to you. You are our companion; you have
already endangered your life several times for us, and you, as well as the
rest, ought to be consulted in the matter of any important decision. Speak,
therefore."

"Captain Harding," replied Ayrton, "I think that we ought to do
everything to discover this unknown benefactor. Perhaps he is alone.
Perhaps he is suffering. Perhaps he has a life to be renewed. I, too, as
you said, have a debt of gratitude to pay him. It was he, it could be only
he who must have come to Tabor Island, who found there the wretch you knew,
and who made known to you that there was an unfortunate man there to be
saved. Therefore it is, thanks to him, that I have become a man again. No,
I will never forget him!"

"That is settled, then," said Cyrus Harding. "We will begin our
researches as soon as possible. We will not leave a corner of the island
unexplored. We will search into its most secret recesses, and will hope
that our unknown friend will pardon us in consideration of our intentions!"

For several days the colonists were actively employed in haymaking and
the harvest. Before putting their project of exploring the yet unknown
parts of the island into execution, they wished to get all possible work
finished. It was also the time for collecting the various vegetables from
the Tabor Island plants. All was stowed away, and happily there was no want
of room in Granite House, in which they might have housed all the treasures
of the island. The products of the colony were there, methodically
arranged, and in a safe place, as may be believed, sheltered as much from
animals as from man.

There was no fear of damp in the middle of that thick mass of granite.
Many natural excavations situated in the upper passage were enlarged either
by pick-axe or mine, and Granite House thus became a general warehouse,
containing all the provisions, arms, tools, and spare utensils--in a word,
all the stores of the colony.

As to the guns obtained from the brig, they were pretty pieces of
ordnance, which, at Pencroft's entreaty, were hoisted by means of tackle
and pulleys, right up into Granite House; embrasures were made between the
windows, and the shining muzzles of the guns could soon be seen through the
granite cliff. From this height they commanded all Union Bay. It was like a
little Gibraltar, and any vessel anchored off the islet would inevitably be
exposed to the fire of this aerial battery.

"Captain," said Pencroft one day, it was the 8th of November, "now that
our fortifications are finished, it would be a good thing if we tried the
range of our guns."

"Do you think that is useful?" asked the engineer.

"It is more than useful, it is necessary! Without that how are we to know
to what distance we can send one of those pretty shot with which we are
provided?"

"Try them, Pencroft," replied the engineer. "However, I think that in
making the experiment, we ought to employ, not the ordinary powder, the
supply of which, I think, should remain untouched, but the pyroxyle which
will never fail us."

"Can the cannon support the shock of the pyroxyle?" asked the reporter,
who was not less anxious than Pencroft to try the artillery of Granite
House.

"I believe so. However," added the engineer, "we will be prudent."
The engineer was right in thinking that the guns were of excellent make.
Made of forged steel, and breech-loaders, they ought consequently to be
able to bear a considerable charge, and also have an enormous range. In
fact, as regards practical effect, the transit described by the ball ought
to be as extended as possible, and this tension could only be obtained
under the condition that the projectile should be impelled with a very
great initial velocity.

"Now," said Harding to his companions, "the initial velocity is in
proportion to the quantity of powder used. In the fabrication of these
pieces, everything depends on employing a metal with the highest possible
power of resistance, and steel is incontestably that metal of all others
which resists the best. I have, therefore, reason to believe that our guns
will bear without risk the expansion of the pyroxyle gas, and will give
excellent results."

"We shall be a great deal more certain of that when we have tried them!"
answered Pencroft.

It is unnecessary to say that the four cannons were in perfect order.
Since they had been taken from the water, the sailor had bestowed great
care upon them. How many hours he had spent, in rubbing, greasing, and
polishing them, and in cleaning the mechanism! And now the pieces were as
brilliant as if they had been on board a frigate of the United States Navy.

On this day, therefore, in presence of all the members of the colony,
including Master Jup and Top, the four cannon were successively tried. They
were charged with pyroxyle, taking into consideration its explosive power,
which, as has been said, is four times that of ordinary powder: the
projectile to be fired was cylindroconic.

Pencroft, holding the end of the quick-match, stood ready to fire.

At Harding's signal, he fired. The shot, passing over the islet, fell
into the sea at a distance which could not be calculated with exactitude.

The second gun was pointed at the rocks at the end of Flotsam Point, and
the shot striking a sharp rock nearly three miles from Granite House, made
it fly into splinters. It was Herbert who had pointed this gun and fired
it, and very proud he was of his first shot. Pencroft only was prouder than
he! Such a shot, the honor of which belonged to his dear boy.

The third shot, aimed this time at the downs forming the upper side of
Union Bay, struck the sand at a distance of four miles, then having
ricocheted: was lost in the sea in a cloud of spray.

For the fourth piece Cyrus Harding slightly increased the charge, so as
to try its extreme range. Then, all standing aside for fear of its
bursting, the match was lighted by means of a long cord.

A tremendous report was heard, but the piece had held good, and the
colonists rushing to the windows, saw the shot graze the rocks of Mandible
Cape, nearly five miles from Granite House, and disappear in Shark Gulf.

"Well, captain," exclaimed Pencroft, whose cheers might have rivaled the
reports themselves, "what do you say of our battery? All the pirates in the
Pacific have only to present themselves before Granite House! Not one can
land there now without our permission!"

"Believe me, Pencroft," replied the engineer, "it would be better not to
have to make the experiment."

"Well," said the sailor, "what ought to be done with regard to those six
villains who are roaming about the island? Are we to leave them to overrun
our forests, our fields, our plantations? These pirates are regular
jaguars, and it seems to me we ought not to hesitate to treat them as such!
What do you think, Ayrton?" added Pencroft, turning to his companion.

Ayrton hesitated at first to reply, and Cyrus Harding regretted that
Pencroft had so thoughtlessly put this question. And he was much moved when
Ayrton replied in a humble tone,--

"I have been one of those jaguars, Mr. Pencroft. I have no right to
speak."

And with a slow step he walked away.

Pencroft understood.

"What a brute I am!" he exclaimed. "Poor Ayrton! He has as much right to
speak here as any one!"

"Yes," said Gideon Spilett, "but his reserve does him honor, and it is
right to respect the feeling which he has about his sad past."

"Certainly, Mr. Spilett," answered the sailor, "and there is no fear of
my doing so again. I would rather bite my tongue off than cause Ayrton any
pain! But to return to the question. It seems to me that these ruffians
have no right to any pity, and that we ought to rid the island of them as
soon as possible."

"Is that your opinion, Pencroft?" asked the engineer.

"Quite my opinion."

"And before hunting them mercilessly, you would not wait until they had
committed some fresh act of hostility against us?"

"Isn't what they have done already enough?" asked Pencroft, who did not
understand these scruples.

"They may adopt other sentiments!" said Harding, "and perhaps repent."

"They repent!" exclaimed the sailor, shrugging his shoulders.

"Pencroft, think of Ayrton!" said Herbert, taking the sailor's hand. "He
became an honest man again!"

Pencroft looked at his companions one after the other. He had never
thought of his proposal being met with any objection. His rough nature
could not allow that they ought to come to terms with the rascals who had
landed on the island with Bob Harvey's accomplices, the murderers of the
crew of the "Speedy," and he looked upon them as wild beasts which ought to
be destroyed without delay and without remorse.

"Come!" said be. "Everybody is against me! You wish to be generous to
those villains! Very well; I hope we mayn't repent it!"

"What danger shall we run," said Herbert, "if we take care to be always
on our guard?"

"Hum!" observed the reporter, who had not given any decided opinion.
"They are six and well armed. If they each lay hid in a corner, and each
fired at one of us, they would soon be masters of the colony!"

"Why have they not done so?" said Herbert. "No doubt because it was not
their interest to do it. Besides, we are six also."

"Well, well!" replied Pencroft, whom no reasoning could have convinced.
"Let us leave these good people to do what they like, and don't think
anything more about them!"

"Come, Pencroft," said Neb, "don't make yourself out so bad as all that!
Suppose one of these unfortunate men were here before you, within good
range of your guns, you would not fire."

"I would fire on him as I would on a mad dog, Neb," replied Pencroft
coldly.

"Pencroft," said the engineer, "you have always shown much deference to
my advice; will you, in this matter, yield to me?"

"I will do as you please, Captain Harding," answered the sailor, who was
not at all convinced.

"Very well, wait, and we will not attack them unless we are attacked
first."

Thus their behavior towards the pirates was agreed upon, although
Pencroft augured nothing good from it. They were not to attack them, but
were to be on their guard. After all, the island was large and fertile. If
any sentiment of honesty yet remained in the bottom of their hearts, these
wretches might perhaps be reclaimed. Was it not their interest in the
situation in which they found themselves to begin a new life? At any rate,
for humanity's sake alone, it would be right to wait. The colonists would
no longer as before, be able to go and come without fear. Hitherto they had
only wild beasts to guard against, and now six convicts of the worst
description, perhaps, were roaming over their island. It was serious,
certainly, and to less brave men, it would have been security lost! No
matter! At present, the colonists had reason on their side against
Pencroft. Would they be right in the future? That remained to be seen.

Chapter 6

However, the chief business of the colonists was to make that complete
exploration of the island which had been decided upon, and which would have
two objects: to discover the mysterious being whose existence was now
indisputable, and at the same time to find out what had become of the
pirates, what retreat they had chosen, what sort of life they were leading,
and what was to be feared from them. Cyrus Harding wished to set out
without delay; but as the expedition would be of some days duration, it
appeared best to load the cart with different materials and tools in order
to facilitate the organization of the encampments. One of the onagers,
however, having hurt its leg, could not be harnessed at present, and a few
days' rest was necessary. The departure was, therefore, put off for a week,
until the 20th of November. The month of November in this latitude
corresponds to the month of May in the northern zones. It was, therefore,
the fine season. The sun was entering the tropic of Capricorn, and gave the
longest days in the year. The time was, therefore, very favorable for the
projected expedition, which, if it did not accomplish its principal object,
would at any rate be fruitful in discoveries, especially of natural
productions, since Harding proposed to explore those dense forests of the
Far West, which stretched to the extremity of the Serpentine Peninsula.

During the nine days which preceded their departure, it was agreed that
the work on Prospect Heights should be finished off.

Moreover, it was necessary for Ayrton to return to the corral, where the
domesticated animals required his care. It was decided that he should spend
two days there, and return to Granite House after having liberally supplied
the stables.

As he was about to start, Harding asked him if he would not like one of
them to accompany him, observing that the island was less safe than
formerly. Ayrton replied that this was unnecessary, as he was enough for
the work, and that besides he apprehended no danger. If anything occurred
at the corral, or in the neighborhood, he could instantly warn the
colonists by sending a telegram to Granite House.

Ayrton departed at dawn on the 9th, taking the cart drawn by one onager,
and two hours after, the electric wire announced that he had found all in
order at the corral.

During these two days Harding busied himself in executing a project which
would completely guard Granite House against any surprise. It was necessary
to completely conceal the opening of the old outlet, which was already
walled up and partly hidden under grass and plants, at the southern angle
of Lake Grant. Nothing was easier, since if the level of the lake was
raised two or three feet, the opening would be quite beneath it. Now, to
raise this level they had only to establish a dam at the two openings made
by the lake, and by which were fed Creek Glycerine and Falls River.

The colonists worked with a will, and the two dams which besides did not
exceed eight feet in width by three in height, were rapidly erected by
means of well-cemented blocks of stone.

This work finished, it would have been impossible to guess
that at that part of the lake, there existed a subterranean passage
through which the overflow of the lake formerly escaped.

Of course the little stream which fed the reservoir of Granite House and
worked the lift, had been carefully preserved, and the water could not
fail. The lift once raised, this sure and comfortable retreat would be safe
from any surprise.

This work had been so quickly done, that Pencroft, Gideon Spilett, and
Herbert found time to make an expedition to Port Balloon, The sailor was
very anxious to know if the little creek in which the "Bonadventure" was
moored, had been visited by the convicts.

"These gentlemen," he observed, "landed on the south coast, and if they
followed the shore, it is to be feared that they may have discovered the
little harbor, and in that case, I wouldn't give half-a-dollar for our
'Bonadventure.'"

Pencroft's apprehensions were not without foundation, and a visit to Port
Balloon appeared to be very desirable. The sailor and his companions set
off on the 10th of November, after dinner, well armed. Pencroft,
ostentatiously slipping two bullets into each barrel of his rifle, shook
his head in a way which betokened nothing good to any one who approached
too near him, whether "man or beast," as he said. Gideon Spilett and
Herbert also took their guns, and about three o'clock all three left
Granite House.

Neb accompanied them to the turn of the Mercy, and after they had
crossed, he raised the bridge. It was agreed that a gunshot should announce
the colonists' return, and that at the signal Neb should return and
reestablish the communication between the two banks of the river.

The little band advanced directly along the road which led to the
southern coast of the island. This was only a distance of three miles and a
half, but Gideon Spilett and his companions took two hours to traverse it.
They examined all the border of the road, the thick forest, as well as
Tabor Marsh. They found no trace of the fugitives who, no doubt, not having
yet discovered the number of the colonists, or the means of defense which
they had at their disposal, had gained the less accessible parts of the
island.

Arrived at Port Balloon, Pencroft saw with extreme satisfaction that the
"Bonadventure" was tranquilly floating in the narrow creek. However, Port
Balloon was so well hidden among high rocks, that it could scarcely be
discovered either from the land or the sea.

"Come," said Pencroft, "the blackguards have not been there yet. Long
grass suits reptiles best, and evidently we shall find them in the Far
West."

"And it's very lucky, for if they had found the 'Bonadventure' added
Herbert, "they would have gone off in her, and we should have been
prevented from returning to Tabor Island."

"Indeed," remarked the reporter, "it will be important to take a document
there which will make known the situation of Lincoln Island, and Ayrton's
new residence, in case the Scotch yacht returns to fetch him."

"Well, the 'Bonadventure' is always there, Mr. Spilett," answered the
sailor. "She and her crew are ready to start at a moment's notice!"

"I think, Pencroft, that that is a thing to be done after our exploration
of the island is finished. It is possible after all that the stranger, if
we manage to find him, may know as much about Tabor Island as about Lincoln
Island. Do not forget that he is certainly the author of the document, and
he may, perhaps, know how far we may count on the return of the yacht!"

"But!" exclaimed Pencroft, "who in the world can he be? The fellow knows
us and we know nothing about him! If he is a simple castaway, why should he
conceal himself! We are honest men, I suppose, and the society of honest
men isn't unpleasant to any one. Did he come here voluntarily? Can he leave
the island if he likes? Is he here still? Will he remain any longer?"

Chatting thus, Pencroft, Gideon Spilett, and Herbert got on board and
looked about the deck of the "Bonadventure." All at once, the sailor having
examined the bitts to which the cable of the anchor was secured,--

"Hallo," he cried, "this is queer!"

"What is the matter, Pencroft?" asked the reporter.

"The matter is, that it was not I who made this knot!"

And Pencroft showed a rope which fastened the cable to the bitt itself.

"What, it was not you?" asked Gideon Spilett.

"No! I can swear to it. This is a reef knot, and I always make a running
bowline."

"You must be mistaken, Pencroft."

"I am not mistaken!" declared the sailor. "My hand does it so naturally,
and one's hand is never mistaken!"

"Then can the convicts have been on board?" asked Herbert.

"I know nothing about that," answered Pencroft, "but what is certain, is
that some one has weighed the 'Bonadventure's' anchor and dropped it again!
And look here, here is another proof! The cable of the anchor has been run
out, and its service is no longer at the hawse-hole. I repeat that some one
has been using our vessel!"

"But if the convicts had used her, they would have pillaged her, or
rather gone off with her."

"Gone off! where to--to Tabor Island?" replied Pencroft. "Do you think,
they would risk themselves in a boat of such small tonnage?'

"We must, besides, be sure that they know of the islet," rejoined the
reporter.

"However that may be," said the sailor, "as sure as my name is
Bonadventure Pencroft, of the Vineyard, our 'Bonadventure' has sailed
without us!"

The sailor was positive that neither Gideon Spilett nor Herbert could
dispute his statement. It was evident that the vessel had been moved, more
or less, since Pencroft had brought her to Port Balloon. As to the sailor,
he had not the slightest doubt that the anchor had been raised and then
dropped again. Now, what was the use of these two maneuvers, unless the
vessel had been employed in some expedition?

"But how was it we did not see the 'Bonadventure' pass in the sight of
the island?" observed the reporter, who was anxious to bring forward every
possible objection.

"Why, Mr. Spilett," replied the sailor, "they would only have to start in
the night with a good breeze, and they would be out of sight of the island
in two hours."

"Well," resumed Gideon Spilett, "I ask again, what object could the
convicts have had in using the 'Bonadventure,' and why, after they had made
use of her, should they have brought her back to port?"

"Why, Mr. Spilett," replied the sailor, "we must put that among the
unaccountable things, and not think anything more about it. The chief thing
is that the 'Bonadventure' was there, and she is there now. Only,
unfortunately, if the convicts take her a second time, we shall very likely
not find her again in her place!"

"Then, Pencroft," said Herbert, "would it not be wisest to bring the
'Bonadventure' off to Granite House?"

"Yes and no," answered Pencroft, "or rather no. The mouth of the Mercy is
a bad place for a vessel, and the sea is heavy there."

"But by hauling her up on the sand, to the foot of the Chimneys?"

"Perhaps yes," replied Pencroft. "At any rate, since we must leave
Granite House for a long expedition, I think the 'Bonadventure' will be
safer here during our absence, and we shall do best to leave her here until
the island is rid of these blackguards."

"That is exactly my opinion," said the reporter. "At any rate in the
event of bad weather, she will not be exposed here as she would be at the
mouth of the Mercy."

"But suppose the convicts pay her another visit," said Herbert.

"Well, my boy," replied Pencroft, "not finding her here, they would not
be long in finding her on the sands of Granite House, and, during our
absence, nothing could hinder them from seizing her! I agree, therefore,
with Mr. Spilett, that she must be left in Port Balloon. But, if on our
return we have not rid the island of those rascals, it will be prudent to
bring our boat to Granite House, until the time when we need not fear any
unpleasant visits."

"That's settled. Let us be off," said the reporter.

Pencroft, Herbert, and Gideon Spilett, on their return to Granite House,
told the engineer all that had passed, and the latter approved of their
arrangements both for the present and the future. He also promised the
sailor that he would study that part of the channel situated between the
islet and the coast, so as to ascertain if it would not be possible to make
an artificial harbor there by means of dams. In this way, the
"Bonadventure" would be always within reach, under the eyes of the
colonists, and if necessary, under lock and key.

That evening a telegram was sent to Ayrton, requesting him to bring from
the corral a couple of goats, which Neb wished to acclimatize to the
plateau. Singularly enough, Ayrton did not acknowledge the receipt of the
despatch, as he was accustomed to do. This could not but astonish the
engineer. But it might be that Ayrton was not at that moment in the corral,
or even that he was on his way back to Granite House. In fact, two days had
already passed since his departure, and it had been decided that on the
evening of the 10th or at the latest the morning of the 11th, he should
return. The colonists waited, therefore, for Ayrton to appear on Prospect
Heights. Neb and Herbert even watched at the bridge so as to be ready to
lower it the moment their companion presented himself.

But up to ten in the evening, there were no signs of Ayrton. It was,
therefore, judged best to send a fresh despatch, requiring an immediate
reply.

The bell of the telegraph at Granite House remained mute.

The colonists' uneasiness was great. What had happened? Was Ayrton no
longer at the corral, or if he was still there, had he no longer control
over his movements? Could they go to the corral in this dark night?

They consulted. Some wished to go, the others to remain.

"But," said Herbert, "perhaps some accident has happened to the
telegraphic apparatus, so that it works no longer?"

"That may be," said the reporter.

"Wait till to-morrow," replied Cyrus Harding. "It is possible, indeed,
that Ayrton has not received our despatch, or even that we have not
received his."

They waited, of course not without some anxiety.

At dawn of day, the 11th of November, Harding again sent the electric
current along the wire and received no reply.

He tried again: the same result.

"Off to the corral," said he.

"And well armed!" added Pencroft.

It was immediately decided that Granite House should not be left alone
and that Neb should remain there. After having accompanied his friends to
Creek Glycerine, he raised the bridge; and waiting behind a tree he watched
for the return of either his companions or Ayrton.

In the event of the pirates presenting themselves and attempting to force
the passage, he was to endeavor to stop them by firing on them, and as a
last resource he was to take refuge in Granite House, where, the lift once
raised, he would be in safety.

Cyrus Harding, Gideon Spilett, Herbert, and Pencroft were to repair to the
corral, and if they did not find Ayrton, search the neighboring woods.

At six o'clock in the morning, the engineer and his three companions had
passed Creek Glycerine, and Neb posted himself behind a small mound crowned
by several dragon trees, on the left bank of the stream.

The colonists, after leaving the plateau of Prospect Heights, immediately
took the road to the corral. They shouldered their guns, ready to fire on
the slightest hostile demonstration. The two rifles and the two guns had
been loaded with ball.

The wood was thick on each side of the road and might easily have
concealed the convicts, who owing to their weapons would have been really
formidable.

The colonists walked rapidly and in silence. Top preceded them, sometimes
running on the road, sometimes taking a ramble into the wood, but always
quiet and not appearing to fear anything unusual. And they could be sure
that the faithful dog would not allow them to be surprised, but would bark
at the least appearance of danger.

Cyrus Harding and his companions followed beside the road the wire which
connected the corral with Granite House. After walking for nearly two
miles, they had not as yet discovered any explanation of the difficulty.
The posts were in good order, the wire regularly extended. However, at that
moment the engineer observed that the wire appeared to be slack, and on
arriving at post No. 74, Herbert, who was in advance stopped, exclaiming,--

"The wire is broken!"

His companions hurried forward and arrived at the spot where the lad was
standing. The post was rooted up and lying across the path. The unexpected
explanation of the difficulty was here, and it was evident that the
despatches from Granite House had not been received at the corral, nor
those from the corral at Granite House.

"It wasn't the wind that blew down this post," observed Pencroft.

"No," replied Gideon Spilett. "The earth has been dug, up round its foot,
and it has been torn up by the hand of man."

"Besides, the wire is broken," added Herbert, showing that the wire had
been snapped.

"Is the fracture recent?" asked Harding.

"Yes," answered Herbert, "it has certainly been done quite lately."

"To the corral! to the corral!" exclaimed the sailor.

The colonists were now half way between Granite House and the corral,
having still two miles and a half to go. They pressed forward with
redoubled speed.

Indeed, it was to be feared that some serious accident had occurred in
the corral. No doubt, Ayrton might have sent a telegram which had not
arrived, but this was not the reason why his companions were so uneasy,
for, a more unaccountable circumstance, Ayrton, who had promised to return
the evening before, had not reappeared. In short, it was not without a
motive that all communication had been stopped between the corral and
Granite House, and who but the convicts could have any interest in
interrupting this communication?

The settlers hastened on, their hearts oppressed with anxiety. They were
sincerely attached to their new companion. Were they to find him struck
down by the hands of those of whom he was formerly the leader?

Soon they arrived at the place where the road led along the side of the
little stream which flowed from the Red Creek and watered the meadows of
the corral. They then moderated their pace so that they should not be out
of breath at the moment when a struggle might be necessary. Their guns were
in their hands ready cocked. The forest was watched on every side. Top
uttered sullen groans which were rather ominous.

At last the palisade appeared through the trees. No trace of any damage
could be seen. The gate was shut as usual. Deep silence reigned in the
corral. Neither the accustomed bleating of the sheep nor Ayrton's voice
could be heard.

"Let us enter," said Cyrus Harding.

And the engineer advanced, while his companions, keeping watch about
twenty paces behind him, were ready to fire at a moment's notice.

Harding raised the inner latch of the gate and was about to push it back,
when Top barked loudly. A report sounded and was responded to by a cry of
pain.

Herbert, struck by a bullet, lay stretched on the ground.

Chapter 7

At Herbert's cry, Pencroft, letting his gun fall, rushed towards him.

"They have killed him!" he cried. "My boy! They have killed him!"

Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett ran to Herbert.

The reporter listened to ascertain if the poor lad's heart was still
beating.

"He lives," said he, "but he must be carried--"

"To Granite House? that is impossible!" replied the engineer.

"Into the corral, then!" said Pencroft.

"In a moment," said Harding.

And he ran round the left corner of the palisade. There he found a
convict, who aiming at him, sent a ball through his hat. In a few seconds,
before he had even time to fire his second barrel, he fell, struck to the
heart by Harding's dagger, more sure even than his gun.

During this time, Gideon Spilett and the sailor hoisted themselves over
the palisade, leaped into the enclosure, threw down the props which
supported the inner door, ran into the empty house, and soon, poor Herbert
was lying on Ayrton's bed. In a few moments, Harding was by his side.

On seeing Herbert senseless, the sailor's grief was terrible.

He sobbed, he cried, he tried to beat his head against the wall.

Neither the engineer nor the reporter could calm him. They themselves
were choked with emotion. They could not speak.

However, they knew that it depended on them to rescue from death the poor
boy who was suffering beneath their eyes. Gideon Spilett had not passed
through the many incidents by which his life had been checkered without
acquiring some slight knowledge of medicine. He knew a little of
everything, and several times he had been obliged to attend to wounds
produced either by a sword-bayonet or shot. Assisted by Cyrus Harding, he
proceeded to render the aid Herbert required.

The reporter was immediately struck by the complete stupor in which
Herbert lay, a stupor owing either to the hemorrhage, or to the shock, the
ball having struck a bone with sufficient force to produce a violent
concussion.

Herbert was deadly pale, and his pulse so feeble that Spilett only felt it
beat at long intervals, as if it was on the point of stopping.

These symptoms were very serious.

Herbert's chest was laid bare, and the blood having been stanched with
handkerchiefs, it was bathed with cold water.

The contusion, or rather the contused wound appeared,--an oval below the
chest between the third and fourth ribs. It was there that Herbert had been
hit by the bullet.

Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett then turned the poor boy over; as they
did so, he uttered a moan so feeble that they almost thought it was his
last sigh.

Herberts back was covered with blood from another contused wound, by
which the ball had immediately escaped.

"God be praised!" said the reporter, "the ball is not in the body, and we
shall not have to extract it."

"But the heart?" asked Harding.

"The heart has not been touched; if it had been, Herbert would be dead!"

"Dead!" exclaimed Pencroft, with a groan.

The sailor had only heard the last words uttered by the reporter.

"No, Pencroft," replied Cyrus Harding, "no! He is not dead. His pulse
still beats. He has even uttered a moan. But for your boy's sake, calm
yourself. We have need of all our self-possession."

"Do not make us lose it, my friend."

Pencroft was silent, but a reaction set in, and great tears rolled down
his cheeks.

In the meanwhile, Gideon Spilett endeavored to collect his ideas, and
proceed methodically. After his examination he had no doubt that the ball,
entering in front, between the seventh and eighth ribs, had issued behind
between the third and fourth. But what mischief had the ball committed in
its passage? What important organs had been reached? A professional surgeon
would have had difficulty in determining this at once, and still more so
the reporter.

However, he knew one thing, this was that he would have to prevent the
inflammatory strangulation of the injured parts, then to contend with the
local inflammation and fever which would result from the wound, perhaps
mortal! Now, what styptics, what antiphiogistics ought to be employed? By
what means could inflammation be prevented?

At any rate, the most important thing was that the two wounds should be
dressed without delay. It did not appear necessary to Gideon Spilett that a
fresh flow of blood should be caused by bathing them in tepid water, and
compressing their lips. The hemorrhage had been very abundant, and Herbert
was already too much enfeebled by the loss of blood.

The reporter, therefore, thought it best to simply bathe the two wounds
with cold water.

Herbert was placed on his left side, and was maintained in that position.

"He must not be moved." said Gideon Spilett. "He is in the most favorable
position for the wounds in his back and chest to suppurate easily, and
absolute rest is necessary."

"What! can't we carry him to Granite House?" asked Pencroft.

"No, Pencroft," replied the reporter.

"I'll pay the villains off!" cried the sailor, shaking his fist in a
menacing manner.

"Pencroft!" said Cyrus Harding.

Gideon Spilett had resumed his examination of the wounded boy. Herbert
was still so frightfully pale, that the reporter felt anxious.

"Cyrus," said he, "I am not a surgeon. I am in terrible perplexity. You
must aid me with your advice, your experience!"

"Take courage, my friend," answered the engineer, pressing the reporter's
hand. "Judge coolly. Think only of this: Herbert must be saved!"

These words restored to Gideon Spilett that self-possession which he had
lost in a moment of discouragement on feeling his great responsibility. He
seated himself close to the bed. Cyrus Harding stood near. Pencroft had
torn up his shirt, and was mechanically making lint.

Spilett then explained to Cyrus Harding that he thought he ought first of
all to stop the hemorrhage, but not close the two wounds, or cause their
immediate cicatrization, for there had been internal perforation, and the
suppuration must not be allowed to accumulate in the chest.

Harding approved entirely, and it was decided that the two wounds should
be dressed without attempting to close them by immediate coaptation.

And now did the colonists possess an efficacious agent to act against the
inflammation which might occur?

Yes. They had one, for nature had generously lavished it. They had cold
water, that is to say, the most powerful sedative that can be employed
against inflammation of wounds, the most efficacious therapeutic agent in
grave cases, and the one which is now adopted by all physicians. Cold water
has, moreover, the advantage of leaving the wound in absolute rest, and
preserving it from all premature dressing, a considerable advantage, since
it has been found by experience that contact with the air is dangerous
during the first days.

Gideon Spilett and Cyrus Harding reasoned thus with their simple good
sense, and they acted as the best surgeon would have done. Compresses of
linen were applied to poor Herbert's two wounds, and were kept constantly
wet with cold water.

The sailor had at first lighted a fire in the hut, which was not wanting
in things necessary for life. Maple sugar, medicinal plants, the same which
the lad had gathered on the banks of Lake Grant, enabled them to make some
refreshing drinks, which they gave him without his taking any notice of it.
His fever was extremely high, and all that day and night passed without his
becoming conscious.

Herbert's life hung on a thread, and this thread might break at any
moment. The next day, the 12th of November, the hopes of Harding and his
companions slightly revived. Herbert had come out of his long stupor. He
opened his eyes, he recognized Cyrus Harding, the reporter, and Pencroft.
He uttered two or three words. He did not know what had happened. They told
him, and Spilett begged him to remain perfectly still, telling him that his
life was not in danger, and that his wounds would heal in a few days.
However, Herbert scarcely suffered at all, and the cold water with which
they were constantly bathed, prevented any inflammation of the wounds. The
suppuration was established in a regular way, the fever did not increase,
and it might now be hoped that this terrible wound would not involve any
catastrophe. Pencroft felt the swelling of his heart gradually subside. He
was like a sister of mercy. like a mother by the bed of her child.

Herbert dozed again, but his sleep appeared more natural.

"Tell me again that you hope, Mr. Spilett," said Pencroft. "Tell me again
that you will save Herbert!"

"Yes, we will save him!" replied the reporter. "The wound is serious,
and, perhaps, even the ball has traversed the lungs, but the perforation of
this organ is not fatal."

"God bless you!" answered Pencroft.

As may be believed, during the four-and-twenty hours they had been in the
corral, the colonists had no other thought than that of nursing Herbert.
They did not think either of the danger which threatened them should the
convicts return, or of the precautions to be taken for the future.

But on this day, while Pencroft watched by the sick-bed, Cyrus Harding
and the reporter consulted as to what it would be best to do.

First of all they examined the corral. There was not a trace of Ayrton.
Had the unhappy man been dragged away by his former accomplices? Had he
resisted, and been overcome in the struggle? This last supposition was only
too probable. Gideon Spilett, at the moment he scaled the palisade, had
clearly seen some one of the convicts running along the southern spur of
Mount Franklin, towards whom Top had sprung. It was one of those whose
object had been so completely defeated by the rocks at the mouth of the
Mercy. Besides, the one killed by Harding, and whose body was found outside
the enclosure, of course belonged to Bob Harvey's crew.

As to the corral, it had not suffered any damage. The gates were closed,
and the animals had not been able to disperse in the forest. Nor could they
see traces of any struggle, any devastation, either in the hut, or in the
palisade. The ammunition only, with which Ayrton had been supplied, had
disappeared with him.

"The unhappy man has been surprised," said Harding, "and as he was a man
to defend himself, he must have been overpowered."

"Yes, that is to be feared!" said the reporter. "Then, doubtless, the
convicts installed themselves in the corral where they found plenty of
everything, and only fled when they saw us coming. It is very evident, too,
that at this moment Ayrton, whether living or dead, is not here!"

"We shall have to beat the forest," said the engineer, "and rid the
island of these wretches. Pencroft's presentiments were not mistaken, when
he wished to hunt them as wild beasts. That would have spared us all these
misfortunes!"

"Yes," answered the reporter, "but now we have the right to be
merciless!"

"At any rate," said the engineer, "we are obliged to wait some time, and
to remain at the corral until we can carry Herbert without danger to
Granite House."

"But Neb?" asked the reporter.

"Neb is in safety."

"But if, uneasy at our absence, he would venture to come?"

"He must not come!" returned Cyrus Harding quickly. "He would be murdered
on the road!"

"It is very probable, however, that he will attempt to rejoin us!"

"Ah, if the telegraph still acted, he might be warned! But that is
impossible now! As to leaving Pencroft and Herbert here alone, we could not
do it! Well, I will go alone to Granite House."

"No, no! Cyrus," answered the reporter, "you must not expose yourself!
Your courage would be of no avail. The villains are evidently watching the
corral, they are hidden in the thick woods which surround it, and if you go
we shall soon have to regret two misfortunes instead of one!"

"But Neb?" repeated the engineer. "It is now four-and-twenty hours since
he has had any news of us! He will be sure to come!"

"And as he will be less on his guard than we should be ourselves," added
Spilett, "he will be killed!"

"Is there really no way of warning him?"

While the engineer thought, his eyes fell on Top, who, going backwards
and forwards seemed to say,--

"Am not I here?"

"Top!" exclaimed Cyrus Harding.

The animal sprang at his master's call.

"Yes, Top will go," said the reporter, who had understood the engineer.

"Top can go where we cannot! He will carry to Granite House the news of
the corral, and he will bring back to us that from Granite House!"

"Quick!" said Harding. "Quick!"

Spilett rapidly tore a leaf from his note-book, and wrote these words:--

"Herbert wounded. We are at the corral. Be on your guard. Do not leave
Granite House. Have the convicts appeared in the neighborhood? Reply by
Top."

This laconic note contained all that Neb ought to know, and at the same
time asked all that the colonists wished to know. It was folded and
fastened to Top's collar in a conspicuous position.

"Top, my dog," said the engineer, caressing the animal, "Neb, Top! Neb!
Go, go!"

Top bounded at these words. He understood, he knew what was expected of
him. The road to the corral was familiar to him. In less than an hour he
could clear it, and it might be hoped that where neither Cyrus Harding nor
the reporter could have ventured without danger, Top, running among the
grass or in the wood, would pass unperceived.

The engineer went to the gate of the corral and opened it.

"Neb, Top! Neb!" repeated the engineer, again pointing in the direction
of Granite House.

Top sprang forwards, then almost immediately disappeared.

"He will get there!" said the reporter.

"Yes, and he will come back, the faithful animal!"

"What o'clock is it?" asked Gideon Spilett.

"Ten."

"In an hour he may be here. We will watch for his return."

The gate of the corral was closed. The engineer and the reporter
re-entered the house. Herbert was still in a sleep. Pencroft kept the
compresser always wet. Spilett, seeing there was nothing he could do at
that moment, busied himself in preparing some nourishment, while
attentively watching that part of the enclosure against the hill, at which
an attack might be expected.

The settlers awaited Top's return with much anxiety. A little before
eleven o'clock, Cyrus Harding and the reporter, rifle in hand, were behind
the gate, ready to open it at the first bark of their dog.

They did not doubt that if Top had arrived safely at Granite House, Neb
would have sent him back immediately.

They had both been there for about ten minutes, when a report was heard,
followed by repeated barks.

The engineer opened the gate, and seeing smoke a hundred feet off in the
wood, he fired in that direction.

Almost immediately Top bounded into the corral, and the gate was quickly
shut.

"Top, Top!" exclaimed the engineer, taking the dog's great honest head
between his hands.

A note was fastened to his neck, and Cyrus Harding read these words,
traced in Neb's large writing:--"No pirates in the neighborhood of Granite
House. I will not stir. Poor Mr. Herbert!"

Chapter 8

So the convicts were still there, watching the corral, and determined to
kill the settlers one after the other. There was nothing to be done but to
treat them as wild beasts. But great precautions must be taken, for just
now the wretches had the advantage on their side, seeing, and not being
seen, being able to surprise by the suddenness of their attack, yet not to
be surprised themselves. Harding made arrangements, therefore, for living
in the corral, of which the provisions would last for a tolerable length of
time. Ayrton's house had been provided with all that was necessary for
existence, and the convicts, scared by the arrival of the settlers, had not
had time to pillage it. It was probable, as Gideon Spilett observed, that
things had occurred as follows:

The six convicts, disembarking on the island, had followed the southern
shore, and after having traversed the double shore of the Serpentine
Peninsula, not being inclined to venture into the Far West woods, they had
reached the mouth of Falls River. From this point, by following the right
bank of the watercourse, they would arrive at the spurs of Mount Franklin,
among which they would naturally seek a retreat, and they could not have
been long in discovering the corral, then uninhabited. There they had
regularly installed themselves, awaiting the moment to put their abominable
schemes into execution. Ayrton's arrival had surprised them, but they had
managed to overpower the unfortunate man, and--the rest may be easily
imagined!

Now, the convicts,--reduced to five, it is true, but well armed,--were
roaming the woods, and to venture there was to expose themselves to their
attacks, which could be neither guarded against nor prevented.

"Wait! There is nothing else to be done!" repeated Cyrus Harding. "When
Herbert is cured, we can organize a general battle of the island, and have
satisfaction of these convicts. That will be the object of our grand
expedition at the same time--"

"As the search for our mysterious protector," added Gideon Spilett,
finishing the engineer's sentence. "An, it must be acknowledged, my dear
Cyrus, that this time his protection was wanting at the very moment when it
was most necessary to us!"

"Who knows?" replied the engineer.

"What do you mean?" asked the reporter.

"That we are not at the end of our trouble yet, my dear Spilett, and that
his powerful intervention may have another opportunity of exercising
itself. But that is not the question now. Herbert's life before
everything."

This was the colonists' saddest thought. Several days passed, and the
poor boy's state was happily no worse. Cold water, always kept at a
suitable temperature, had completely prevented the inflammation of the
wounds. It even seemed to the reporter that this water, being slightly
sulphurous,--which was explained by the neighborhood of the volcano, had a
more direct action on the healing. The suppuration was much less abundant,
and thanks to the incessant care by which he was surrounded!--Herbert
returned to life, and his fever abated. He was besides subjected to a
severe diet, and consequently his wealmess was and would be extreme; but
there was no want of refreshing drinks, and absolute rest was of the
greatest benefit to him. Cyrus Harding, Gideon Spilett, and Pencroft had
become very skilful in dressing the lad's wounds. All the linen in the
house had been sacrificed. Herbert's wounds, covered with compresses and
lint, were pressed neither too much nor too little, so as to cause their
cicatrization without effecting any inflammatory reaction. The reporter
used extreme care in the dressing, knowing well the importance of it, and
repeating to his companions that which most surgeons willingly admit, that
it is perhaps rarer to see a dressing well done than an operation well
performed.

In ten days, on the 22nd of November, Herbert was considerably better. He
had begun to take some nourishment.

The color was returning to his cheeks, and his bright eyes smiled at his
nurses. He talked a little, notwithstanding Pencroft's efforts, who talked
incessantly to prevent him from beginning to speak, and told him the most
improbable stories. Herbert had questioned him on the subject of Ayrton,
whom he was astonished not to see near him, thinking that he was at the
corral. But the sailor, not wishing to distress Herbert, contented himself
by replying that Ayrton had rejoined Neb, so as to defend Granite House.

"Humph!" said Pencroft, "these pirates! they are gentlemen who have no
right to any consideration! And the captain wanted to win them by kindness!
I'll send them some kindness, but in the shape of a good bullet!"

"And have they not been seen again?" asked Herbert.

"No, my boy," answered the sailor, "but we shall find them, and when you
are cured we shall see if the cowards who strike us from behind will dare
to meet us face to face!"

"I am still very weak, my poor Pencroft!"

"Well! your strength will return gradually! What's a ball through the
chest? Nothing but a joke! I've seen many, and I don't think much of them!"

At last things appeared to be going on well, and if no complication
occurred, Herbert's recovery might be regarded as certain. But what would
have been the condition of the colonists if his state had been aggravated,
--if, for example, the ball had remained in his body, if his arm or his leg
had had to be amputated?

"No," said Spilett more than once, "I have never thought of such a
contingency without shuddering!"

"And yet, if it had been necessary to operate," said Harding one day to
him, "you would not have hesitated?"

"No, Cyrus!" said Gideon Spilett, "but thank God that we have been spared
this complication!"

As in so many other conjectures, the colonists had appealed to the logic
of that simple good sense of which they had made use so often, and once
more, thanks to their general knowledge, it had succeeded! But might not a
time come when all their science would be at fault? They were alone on the
island. Now, men in all states of society are necessary to each other.
Cyrus Harding knew this well, and sometimes he asked if some circumstance
might not occur which they would be powerless to surmount. It appeared to
him besides, that he and his companions, till then so fortunate, had
entered into an unlucky period. During the two years and a half which had
elapsed since their escape from Richmond, it might be said that they had
had everything their own way. The island had abundantly supplied them with
minerals, vegetables, animals, and as Nature had constantly loaded them,
their science had known how to take advantage of what she offered them.

The wellbeing of the colony was therefore complete. Moreover, in certain
occurrences an inexplicable influence had come to their aid!... But all
that could only be for a time.

In short, Cyrus Harding believed that fortune had turned against them.

In fact, the convicts' ship had appeared in the waters of the island, and
if the pirates had been, so to speak, miraculously destroyed, six of them,
at least, had escaped the catastrophe. They had disembarked on the island,
and it was almost impossible to get at the five who survived. Ayrton had no
doubt been murdered by these wretches, who possessed firearms, and at the
first use that they had made of them, Herbert had fallen, wounded almost
mortally. Were these the first blows aimed by adverse fortune at the
colonists? This was often asked by Harding. This was often repeated by the
reporter; and it appeared to him also that the intervention, so strange,
yet so efficacious, which till then had served them so well, had now failed
them. Had this mysterious being, whatever he was, whose existence could not
be denied, abandoned the island? Had he in his turn succumbed?

No reply was possible to these questions. But it must not be imagined
that because Harding and his companions spoke of these things, they were
men to despair. Far from that. They looked their situation in the face,
they analyzed the chances, they prepared themselves for any event, they
stood firm and straight before the future, and if adversity was at last to
strike them, it would find in them men prepared to struggle against it.

Chapter 9

The convalescence of the young invalid was regularly progressing. One thing
only was now to be desired, that his state would allow him to be brought to
Granite House. However well built and supplied the corral house was, it
could not be so comfortable as the healthy granite dwelling. Besides, it
did not offer the same security, and its tenants, notwithstanding their
watchfulness, were here always in fear of some shot from the convicts.
There, on the contrary, in the middle of that impregnable and inaccessible
cliff, they would have nothing to fear, and any attack on their persons
would certainly fail. They therefore waited impatiently for the moment when
Herbert might be moved without danger from his wound, and they were
determined to make this move, although the communication through Jacamar
Wood was very difficult.

They had no news from Neb, but were not uneasy on that account. The
courageous Negro, well entrenched in the depths of Granite House, would not
allow himself to be surprised. Top had not been sent again to him, as it
appeared useless to expose the faithful dog to some shot which might
deprive the settlers of their most useful auxiliary.

They waited, therefore, although they were anxious to be reunited at
Granite House. It pained the engineer to see his forces divided, for it
gave great advantage to the pirates. Since Ayrton's disappearance they were
only four against five, for Herbert could not yet be counted, and this was
not the least care of the brave boy, who well understood the trouble of
which he was the cause.

The question of knowing how, in their condition, they were to act against
the pirates, was thoroughly discussed on the 29th of November by Cyrus
Harding, Gideon Spilett, and Pencroft, at a moment when Herbert was asleep
and could not hear them.

"My friends," said the reporter, after they had talked of Neb and of the
impossibility of communicating with him, "I think, --like you, that to
venture on the road to the corral would be to risk receiving a gunshot
without being able to return it. But do you not think that the best thing
to be done now is to openly give chase to these wretches?"

"That is just what I was thinking," answered Pencroft. "I believe we're
not fellows to be afraid of a bullet, and as for me, if Captain Harding
approves, I'm ready to dash into the forest! Why, hang it, one man is equal
to another!"

"But is he equal to five?" asked the engineer.

"I will join Pencroft," said the reporter, "and both of us, well-armed
and accompanied by Top--"

"My dear Spilett, and you, Pencroft," answered Harding, "let us reason
coolly. If the convicts were hid in one spot of the island, if we knew that
spot, and had only to dislodge them, I would undertake a direct attack; but
is there not occasion to fear, on the contrary, that they are sure to fire
the first shot?"

"Well, captain," cried Pencroft, "a bullet does not always reach its
mark."

"That which struck Herbert did not miss, Pencroft," replied the engineer.
"Besides, observe that if both of you left the corral I should remain here
alone to defend it. Do you imagine that the convicts will not see you leave
it, that they will not allow you to enter the forest, and that they will
not attack it during your absence, knowing that there is no one here but a
wounded boy and a man?"

"You are right, captain," replied Pencroft, his chest swelling with
sullen anger. "You are right; they will do all they can to retake the
corral, which they know to be well stored; and alone you could not hold it
against them."

"Oh, if we were only at Granite House!"

"If we were at Granite House," answered the engineer, "the case would be
very different. There I should not be afraid to leave Herbert with one,
while the other three went to search the forests of the island. But we are
at the corral, and it is best to stay here until we can leave it together."

Cyrus Harding's reasoning was unanswerable, and his companions understood
it well.

"If only Ayrton was still one of us!" said Gideon Spilett. "Poor fellow!
his return to social life will have been but of short duration."

"If he is dead," added Pencroft, in a peculiar tone.

"Do you hope, then, Pencroft, that the villains have spared him?" asked
Gideon Spilett.

"Yes, if they had any interest in doing so."

"What! you suppose that Ayrton finding his old companions, forgetting
all that he owes us--"

"Who knows?" answered the sailor, who did not hazard this shameful
supposition without hesitating.

"Pencroft," said Harding, taking the sailor's arm, "that is a wicked idea
of yours, and you will distress me much if you persist in speaking thus. I
will answer for Ayrton's fidelity."

"And I also," added the reporter quickly.

"Yes, yes, captain, I was wrong," replied Pencroft; "it was a wicked idea
indeed that I had, and nothing justifies it. But what can I do? I'm not in
my senses. This imprisonment in the corral wearies me horribly, and I have
never felt so excited as I do now.

"Be patient, Pencroft," replied the engineer. "How long will it be, my
dear Spilett, before you think Herbert may be carried to Granite House?"

"That is difficult to say, Cyrus," answered the reporter, "for any
imprudence might involve terrible consequences. But his convalescence is
progressing, and if he continues to gain strength, in eight days from now--
well, we shall see."

Eight days! That would put off the return to Granite House until the
first days of December. At this time two months of spring had already
passed. The weather was fine, and the heat began to be great. The forests
of the island were in full leaf, and the time was approaching when the
usual crops ought to be gathered. The return to the plateau of Prospect
Heights would, therefore, be followed by extensive agricultural labors,
interrupted only by the projected expedition through the island.

It can, therefore, be well understood how injurious this seclusion in the
corral must have been to the colonists.

But if they were compelled to bow before necessity, they did not do so
without impatience.

Once or twice the reporter ventured out into the road and made the tour
of the palisade. Top accompanied him, and Gideon Spilett, his gun cocked,
was ready for any emergency.

He met with no misadventure and found no suspicious traces. His dog would
have warned him of any danger, and, as Top did not bark, it might be
concluded that there was nothing to fear at the moment at least, and that
the convicts were occupied in another part of the island.

However, on his second sortie, on the 27th of November, Gideon Spilett,
who had ventured a quarter of a mile into the woods, towards the south of
the mountain, remarked that Top scented something. The dog had no longer
his unconcerned manner; he went backwards and forwards, ferreting among
the grass and bushes as if his smell had revealed some suspicious object to
him.

Gideon Spilett followed Top, encouraged him, excited him by his voice,
while keeping a sharp look-out, his gun ready to fire, and sheltering
himself behind the trees. It was not probable that Top scented the presence
of man, for in that case, he would have announced it by half-uttered,
sullen, angry barks. Now, as he did not growl, it was because danger was
neither near nor approaching.

Nearly five minutes passed thus, Top rummaging, the reporter following
him prudently when, all at once, the dog rushed towards a thick bush, and
drew out a rag.

It was a piece of cloth, stained and torn, which Spilett immediately
brought back to the corral. There it was examined by the colonists, who
found that it was a fragment of Ayrton's waistcoat, a piece of that felt,
manufactured solely by the Granite House factory.

"You see, Pencroft," observed Harding, "there has been resistance on the
part of the unfortunate Ayrton. The convicts have dragged him away in spite
of himself! Do you still doubt his honesty?"

"No, captain," answered the sailor, "and I repented of my suspicion a
long time ago! But it seems to me that something may be learned from the
incident."

"What is that?" asked the reporter.

"It is that Ayrton was not killed at the corral! That they dragged him
away living, since he has resisted. Therefore, perhaps, he is still
living!"

"Perhaps, indeed," replied the engineer, who remained thoughtful.

This was a hope, to which Ayrton's companions could still hold. Indeed,
they had before believed that, surprised in the corral, Ayrton had fallen
by a bullet, as Herbert had fallen. But if the convicts had not killed him
at first, if they had brought him living to another part of the island,
might it not be admitted that he was still their prisoner? Perhaps, even,
one of them had found in Ayrton his old Australian companion Ben Joyce, the
chief of the escaped convicts. And who knows but that they had conceived
the impossible hope of bringing back Ayrton to themselves? He would have
been very useful to them, if they had been able to make him turn traitor!

This incident was, therefore, favorably interpreted at the corral, and it
no longer appeared impossible that they should find Ayrton again. On his
side, if he was only a prisoner, Ayrton would no doubt do all he could to
escape from the hands of the villains, and this would be a powerful aid to
the settlers!

"At any rate," observed Gideon Spilett, "if happily Ayrton did manage to
escape, he would go directly to Granite House, for he could not know of the
attempted assassination of which Herbert has been a victim, and
consequently would never think of our being imprisoned in the corral."

"Oh! I wish that he was there, at Granite House!" cried Pencroft, "and
that we were there, too! For, although the rascals can do nothing to our
house, they may plunder the plateau, our plantations, our poultry-yard!"

Pencroft had become a thorough farmer, heartily attached to his crops.
But it must be said that Herbert was more anxious than any to return to
Granite House, for he knew how much the presence of the settlers was needed
there. And it was he who was keeping them at the corral! Therefore, one
idea occupied his mind--to leave the corral, and when! He believed he could
bear removal to Granite House. He was sure his strength would return more
quickly in his room, with the air and sight of the sea!

Several times he pressed Gideon Spilett, but the latter, fearing, with
good reason, that Herbert's wounds, half healed, might reopen on the way,
did not give the order to start.

However, something occurred which compelled Cyrus Harding and his two
friends to yield to the lad's wish, and God alone knew that this
determination might cause them grief and remorse.

It was the 29th of November, seven o'clock in the evening. The three
settlers were talking in Herbert's room, when they heard Top utter quick
barks.

Harding, Pencroft, and Spilett seized their guns and ran out of the
house. Top, at the foot of the palisade, was jumping, barking, but it was
with pleasure, not anger.

"Some one is coming."

"Yes."

"It is not an enemy!"

"Neb, perhaps?"

"Or Ayrton?"

These words had hardly been exchanged between the engineer and his two
companions when a body leaped over the palisade and fell on the ground
inside the corral.

It was Jup, Master Jup in person, to whom Top immediately gave a most
cordial reception.

"Jup!" exclaimed Pencroft.

"Neb has sent him to us," said the reporter.

"Then," replied the engineer, "he must have some note on him."

Pencroft rushed up to the orang. Certainly if Neb had any important
matter to communicate to his master he could not employ a more sure or more
rapid messenger, who could pass where neither the colonists could, nor even
Top himself.

Cyrus Harding was not mistaken. At Jup's neck hung a small bag, and in
this bag was found a little note traced by Neb's hand.

The despair of Harding and his companions may be imagined when they read
these words:--

"Friday, six o'clock in the morning.

"Plateau invaded by convicts.

"Neb."

They gazed at each other without uttering a word, then they re-entered
the house. what were they to do? The convicts on Prospect Heights! that was
disaster, devastation, ruin.

Herbert, on seeing the engineer, the reporter, and Pencroft re-enter,
guessed that their situation was aggravated, and when he saw Jup, he no
longer doubted that some misfortune menaced Granite House.

"Captain Harding," said he, "I must go; I can bear the journey. I must
go."

Gideon Spilett approached Herbert; then, having looked at him,--

"Let us go, then!" said he.

The question was quickly decided whether Herbert should be carried on a
litter or in the cart which had brought Ayrton to the corral. The motion of
the litter would have been more easy for the wounded lad, but it would have
necessitated two bearers, that is to say, there would have been two guns
less for defense if an attack was made on the road. Would they not, on the
contrary, by employing the cart leave every arm free? Was it impossible to
place the mattress on which Herbert was lying in it, and to advance with so
much care that any jolt should be avoided? It could be done.

The cart was brought. Pencroft harnessed the onager. Cyrus Harding and
the reporter raised Herbert's mattress and placed it on the bottom of the
cart. The weather was fine. The sun's bright rays glanced through the
trees.

"Are the guns ready?" asked Cyrus Harding.

They were. The engineer and Pencroft, each armed with a double-barreled
gun, and Gideon Spilett carrying his rifle, had nothing to do but start.

"Are you comfortable, Herbert?" asked the engineer.

"Ah, captain," replied the lad, "don't be uneasy, I shall not die on the
road!"

While speaking thus, it could be seen that the poor boy had called up all
his energy, and by the energy of a powerful will had collected his failing
strength.

The engineer felt his heart sink painfully. He still hesitated to
give the signal for departure; but that would have driven Herbert
to despair--killed him perhaps.

"Forward!" said Harding.

The gate of the corral was opened. Jup and Top, who knew when to be
silent, ran in advance. The cart came out, the gate was reclosed, and the
onager, led by Pencroft, advanced at a slow pace.

Certainly, it would have been safer to have taken a different road than
that which led straight from the corral to Granite House, but the cart
would have met with great difficulties in moving under the trees. It was
necessary, therefore, to follow this way, although it was well known to the
convicts.

Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett walked one on each side of the cart,
ready to answer to any attack. However, it was not probable that the
convicts would have yet left the plateau of Prospect Heights.

Neb's note had evidently been written and sent as soon as the convicts
had shown themselves there. Now, this note was dated six o'clock in the
morning, and the active orang, accustomed to come frequently to the corral,
had taken scarcely three quarters of an hour to cross the five miles which
separated it from Granite House. They would, therefore, be safe at that
time, and if there was any occasion for firing, it would probably not be
until they were in the neighborhood of Granite House. However, the
colonists kept a strict watch. Top and Jup, the latter armed with his club,
sometimes in front, sometimes beating the wood at the sides of the road,
signalized no danger.

The cart advanced slowly under Pencroft's guidance. It had left the
corral at half-past seven. An hour after, four out of the five miles had
been cleared, without any incident having occurred. The road was as
deserted as all that part of the Jacamar Wood which lay between the Mercy
and the lake. There was no occasion for any warning. The wood appeared as
deserted as on the day when the colonists first landed on the island.

They approached the plateau. Another mile and they would see the bridge
over Creek Glycerine. Cyrus Harding expected to find it in its place;
supposing that the convicts would have crossed it, and that, after having
passed one of the streams which enclosed the plateau, they would have taken
the precaution to lower it again, so as to keep open a retreat.

At length an opening in the trees allowed the sea-horizon to be seen. But
the cart continued its progress, for not one of its defenders thought of
abandoning it.

At that moment Pencroft stopped the onager, and in a hoarse voice,--

"Oh! the villains!" he exclaimed.

And he pointed to a thick smoke rising from the mill, the sheds, and the
buildings at the poultry-yard.

A man was moving about in the midst of the smoke. It was Neb.

His companions uttered a shout. He heard, and ran to meet them.

The convicts had left the plateau nearly half-an-hour before, having
devastated it!

"And Mr. Herbert?" asked Neb.

Gideon Spilett returned to the cart.

Herbert had lost consciousness!

Chapter 10

Of the convicts, the dangers which menaced Granite House, the ruins with
which the plateau was covered, the colonists thought no longer. Herbert's
critical state outweighed all other considerations. Would the removal prove
fatal to him by causing some internal injury? The reporter could not affirm
it, but he and his companions almost despaired of the result. The cart was
brought to the bend of the river. There some branches, disposed as a liner,
received the mattress on which lay the unconscious Herbert. Ten minutes
after, Cyrus Harding, Spilett, and Pencroft were at the foot of the cliff,
leaving Neb to take the cart on to the plateau of Prospect Heights. The
lift was put in motion, and Herbert was soon stretched on his bed in
Granite House.

What cares were lavished on him to bring him back to life! He smiled for
a moment on finding himself in his room, but could scarcely even murmur a
few words, so great was his weakness. Gideon Spilett examined his wounds. He
feared to find them reopened, having been imperfectly healed. There was
nothing of the sort. From whence, then, came this prostration? why was
Herbert so much worse? The lad then fell into a kind of feverish sleep, and
the reporter and Pencroft remained near the bed. During this time, Harding
told Neb all that had happened at the corral, and Neb recounted to his
master the events of which the plateau had just been the theater.

It was only during the preceding night that the convicts had appeared on
the edge of the forest, at the approaches to Creek Glycerine. Neb, who was
watching near the poultry-yard, had not hesitated to fire at one of the
pirates, who was about to cross the stream; but in the darkness he could
not tell whether the man had been hit or not. At any rate, it was not
enough to frighten away the band, and Neb had only just time to get up to
Granite House, where at least he was in safety.

But what was he to do there? How prevent the devastations with which the
convicts threatened the plateau? Had Neb any means by which to warn his
master? And, besides, in what situation were the inhabitants of the corral
themselves? Cyrus Harding and his companions had left on the 11th of
November, and it was now the 29th. It was, therefore, nineteen days since
Neb had had other news than that brought by Top--disastrous news: Ayrton
disappeared, Herbert severely wounded, the engineer, reporter, and sailor,
as it were, imprisoned in the corral!

What was he to do? asked poor Neb. Personally he had nothing to fear, for
the convicts could not reach him in Granite House. But the buildings, the
plantations, all their arrangements at the mercy of the pirates! Would it
not be best to let Cyrus Harding judge of what he ought to do, and to warn
him, at least, of the danger which threatened him?

Neb then thought of employing Jup, and confiding a note to him. He knew
the orang's great intelligence, which had been often put to the proof. Jup
understood the word corral, which had been frequently pronounced before
him, and it may be remembered, too, that he had often driven the cart
thither in company with Pencroft. Day had not yet dawned. The active orang
would know how to pass unperceived through the woods, of which the
convicts, besides, would think he was a native.

Neb did not hesitate. He wrote the note, he tied it to Jup's neck, he
brought the ape to the door of Granite House, from which he let down a long
cord to the ground; then, several times he repeated these words,--

"Jup Jup! corral, corral!"

The creature understood, seized the cord, glided rapidly down the beach,
and disappeared in the darkness without the convicts' attention having been
in the least excited.

"You did well, Neb," said Harding, "but perhaps in not warning us you
would have done still better!"

And, in speaking thus, Cyrus Harding thought of Herbert, whose recovery
the removal had so seriously checked.

Neb ended his account. The convicts had not appeared at all on the beach.
Not knowing the number of the island's inhabitants, they might suppose that
Granite House was defended by a large party. They must have remembered that
during the attack by the brig numerous shot had been fired both from the
lower and upper rocks, and no doubt they did not wish to expose themselves.
But the plateau of Prospect Heights was open to them, and not covered by
the fire of Granite House. They gave themselves up, therefore, to their
instinct of destruction,--plundering, burning, devastating everything,--and
only retiring half an hour before the arrival of the colonists, whom they
believed still confined in the corral.

On their retreat, Neb hurried out. He climbed the plateau at the risk of
being perceived and fired at, tried to extinguish the fire which was
consuming the buildings of the poultry-yard, and had struggled, though in
vain, against it until the cart appeared at the edge of the wood.

Such had been these serious events. The presence of the convicts
constituted a permanent source of danger to the settlers in Lincoln Island,
until then so happy, and who might now expect still greater misfortunes.

Spilett remained in Granite House with Herbert and Pencroft, while Cyrus
Harding, accompanied by Neb, proceeded to judge for himself of the extent
of the disaster.

It was fortunate that the convicts had not advanced to the foot of
Granite House. The workshop at the Chimneys would in that case not have
escaped destruction. But after all, this evil would have been more easily
reparable than the ruins accumulated on the plateau of Prospect Heights.
Harding and Neb proceeded towards the Mercy, and ascended its left bank
without meeting with any trace of the convicts; nor on the other side of
the river, in the depths of the wood, could they perceive any suspicious
indications.

Besides, it might be supposed that in all probability either the convicts
knew of the return of the settlers to Granite House, by having seen them
pass on the road from the corral, or, after the devastation of the plateau,
they had penetrated into Jacamar Wood, following the course of the Mercy,
and were thus ignorant of their return.

In the former case, they must have returned towards the corral, now
without defenders, and which contained valuable stores.

In the latter, they must have regained their encampment, and would wait
on opportunity to recommence the attack.

It was, therefore, possible to prevent them, but any enterprise to clear
the island was now rendered difficult by reason of Herbert's condition.
Indeed, their whole force would have been barely sufficient to cope with
the convicts, and just now no one could leave Granite House.

The engineer and Neb arrived on the plateau. Desolation reigned
everywhere. The fields had been trampled over; the ears of wheat, which
were nearly full-grown, lay on the ground. The other plantations had not
suffered less.

The kitchen-garden was destroyed. Happily, Granite House possessed a
store of seed which would enable them to repair these misfortunes.

As to the wall and buildings of the poultry-yard and the onagers stable,
the fire had destroyed all. A few terrified creatures roamed over the
plateau. The birds, which during the fire had taken refuge on the waters of
the lake, had already returned to their accustomed spot, and were dabbling
on the banks. Everything would have to be reconstructed.

Cyrus Harding's face, which was paler than usual, expressed an internal
anger which he commanded with difficulty, but he did not utter a word. Once
more he looked at his devastated fields, and at the smoke which still rose
from the ruins, then he returned to Granite House.

The following days were the saddest of any that the colonists had passed
on the island! Herbert's weakness visibly increased. It appeared that a
more serious malady, the consequence of the profound physiological
disturbance he had gone through, threatened to declare itself, and Gideon
Spilett feared such an aggravation of his condition that he would be
powerless to fight against it!

In fact, Herbert remained in an almost continuous state of drowsiness,
and symptoms of delirium began to manifest themselves. Refreshing drinks
were the only remedies at the colonists' disposal. The fever was not as yet
very high, but it soon appeared that it would probably recur at regular
intervals. Gideon Spilett first recognized this on the 6th of December.

The poor boy, whose fingers, nose, and ears had become extremely pale,
was at first seized with slight shiverings, horripilations, and tremblings.
His pulse was weak and irregular, his skin dry, his thirst intense. To this
soon succeeded a hot fit; his face became flushed; his skin reddened; his
pulse quick; then a profuse perspiration broke out after which the fever
seemed to diminish. The attack had lasted nearly five hours.

Gideon Spilett had not left Herbert, who, it was only too certain, was now
seized by an intermittent fever, and this fever must be cured at any cost
before it should assume a more serious aspect.

"And in order to cure it," said Spilett to Cyrus Harding, "we need a
febrifuge."

"A febrifuge--" answered the engineer. "We have neither Peruvian bark,
nor sulphate of quinine."

"No," said Gideon Spilett, "but there are willows on the border of the
lake, and the bark of the willow might, perhaps, prove to be a substitute
for quinine."

"Let us try it without losing a moment," replied Cyrus Harding.

The bark of the willow has, indeed, been justly considered as a
succedaneum for Peruvian bark, as has also that of the horse-chestnut tree,
the leaf of the holly, the snake-root, etc. It was evidently necessary to
make trial of this substance, although not so valuable as Peruvian bark,
and to employ it in its natural state, since they had no means for
extracting its essence.

Cyrus Harding went himself to cut from the trunk of a species of black
willow, a few pieces of bark; he brought them back to Granite House, and
reduced them to a powder, which was administered that same evening to
Herbert.

The night passed without any important change. Herbert was somewhat
delirious, but the fever did not reappear in the night, and did not return
either during the following day.

Pencroft again began to hope. Gideon Spilett said nothing. It might be
that the fever was not quotidian, but tertian, and that it would return
next day. Therefore, he awaited the next day with the greatest anxiety.

It might have been remarked besides that during this period Herbert
remained utterly prostrate, his head weak and giddy. Another symptom
alarmed the reporter to the highest degree. Herbert's liver became
congested, and soon a more intense delirium showed that his brain was also
affected.

Gideon Spilett was overwhelmed by this new complication. He took the
engineer aside.

"It is a malignant fever," said he.

"A malignant fever!" cried Harding. "You are mistaken, Spilett. A
malignant fever does not declare itself spontaneously; its germ must
previously have existed."

"I am not mistaken," replied the reporter. "Herbert no doubt contracted
the germ of this fever in the marshes of the island. He has already had one
attack; should a second come on and should we not be able to prevent a
third, he is lost."

"But the willow bark?"

"That is insufficient," answered the reporter, "and the third attack of a
malignant fever, which is not arrested by means of quinine, is always
fatal."

Fortunately, Pencroft heard nothing of this conversation or he would have
gone mad.

It may be imagined what anxiety the engineer and the reporter suffered
during the day of the 7th of December and the following night.

Towards the middle of the day the second attack came on. The crisis was
terrible. Herbert felt himself sinking. He stretched his arms towards Cyrus
Harding, towards Spilett, towards Pencroft. He was so young to die! The
scene was heart-rending. They were obliged to send Pencroft away.

The fit lasted five hours. It was evident that Herbert could not survive
a third.

The night was frightful. In his delirium Herbert uttered words which went
to the hearts of his companions. He struggled with the convicts, he called
to Ayrton, he poured forth entreaties to that mysterious being,--that
powerful unknown protector,--whose image was stamped upon his mind; then he
again fell into a deep exhaustion which completely prostrated him. Several
times Gideon Spilett thought that the poor boy was dead.

The next day, the 8th of December, was but a succession of the fainting
fits. Herbert's thin hands clutched the sheets. They had administered
further doses of pounded bark, but the reporter expected no result from it.

"If before tomorrow morning we have not given him a more energetic
febrifuge," said the reporter, "Herbert will be dead."

Night arrived--the last night, it was too much to be feared, of the good,
brave, intelligent boy, so far in advance of his years, and who was loved
by all as their own child. The only remedy which existed against this
terrible malignant fever, the only specific which could overcome it, was
not to be found in Lincoln Island.

During the night of the 8th of December, Herbert was seized by a more
violent delirium. His liver was fearfully congested, his brain affected,
and already it was impossible for him to recognize any one.

Would he live until the next day, until that third attack which must
infallibly carry him off? It was not probable. His strength was exhausted,
and in the intervals of fever he lay as one dead.

Towards three o'clock in the morning Herbert uttered a piercing cry. He
seemed to be torn by a supreme convulsion. Neb, who was near him,
terrified, ran into the next room where his companions were watching.

Top, at that moment, barked in a strange manner.

All rushed in immediately and managed to restrain the dying boy, who was
endeavoring to throw himself out of his bed, while Spilett, taking his arm,
felt his pulse gradually quicken.

It was five in the morning. The rays of the rising sun began to shine in
at the windows of Granite House. It promised to be a fine day, and this day
was to be poor Herbert's last!

A ray glanced on the table placed near the bed.

Suddenly Pencroft, uttering a cry, pointed to the table.

On it lay a little oblong box, of which the cover bore these words:--
"SULPHATE OF QUININE."

Chapter 11

Gideon Spilett took the box and opened it. It contained nearly two hundred
grains of a white powder, a few particles of which he carried to his lips.
The extreme bitterness of the substance precluded all doubt; it was
certainly the precious extract of quinine, that pre-eminent antifebrile.

This powder must be administered to Herbert without delay. How it came
there might be discussed later.

"Some coffee!" said Spilett.

In a few moments Neb brought a cup of the warm infusion. Gideon Spilett
threw into it about eighteen grains of quinine, and they succeeded in
making Herbert drink the mixture.

There was still time, for the third attack of the malignant fever had not
yet shown itself. How they longed to be able to add that it would not
return!

Besides, it must be remarked, the hopes of all had now revived. The
mysterious influence had been again exerted, and in a critical moment, when
they had despaired of it.

In a few hours Herbert was much calmer. The colonists could now discuss
this incident. The intervention of the stranger was more evident than ever.
But how had he been able to penetrate during the night into Granite House?
It was inexplicable, and, in truth, the proceedings of the genius of the
island were not less mysterious than was that genius himself. During this
day the sulphate of quinine was administered to Herbert every three hours.

The next day some improvement in Herbert's condition was apparent.
Certainly, he was not out of danger, intermittent fevers being subject to
frequent and dangerous relapses, but the most assiduous care was bestowed
on him. And besides, the specific was at hand; nor, doubtless, was he who
had brought it far distant! And the hearts of all were animated by
returning hope.

This hope was not disappointed. Ten days after, on the 20th of December,
Herbert's convalescence commenced.

He was still weak, and strict diet had been imposed upon him, but no
access of fever supervened. And then, the poor boy submitted with such
docility to all the prescriptions ordered him! He longed so to get well!

Pencroft was as a man who has been drawn up from the bottom of an abyss.
Fits of joy approaching delirium seized him. When the time for the third
attack had passed by, he nearly suffocated the reporter in his embrace.
Since then, he always called him Dr. Spilett.

The real doctor, however, remained undiscovered.

"We will find him!" repeated the sailor.

Certainly, this man, whoever he was, might expect a somewhat too
energetic embrace from the worthy Pencroft!

The month of December ended, and with it the year 1867, during which the
colonists of Lincoln Island had of late been so severely tried. They
commenced the year 1868 with magnificent weather, great heat, and a
tropical temperature, delightfully cooled by the sea-breeze. Herbert's
recovery progressed, and from his bed, placed near one of the windows of
Granite House, he could inhale the fresh air, charged with ozone, which
could not fail to restore his health. His appetite returned, and what
numberless delicate, savory little dishes Neb prepared for him!

"It is enough to make one wish to have a fever oneself!" said Pencroft.

During all this time, the convicts did not once appear in the vicinity of
Granite House. There was no news of Ayrton, and though the engineer and
Herbert still had some hopes of finding him again, their companions did not
doubt but that the unfortunate man had perished. However, this uncertainty
could not last, and when once the lad should have recovered, the
expedition, the result of which must be so important, would be undertaken.
But they would have to wait a month, perhaps, for all the strength of the
colony must be put into requisition to obtain satisfaction from the
convicts.

However, Herbert's convalescence progressed rapidly. The congestion of
the liver had disappeared, and his wounds might be considered completely
healed.

During the month of January, important work was done on the plateau of
Prospect Heights; but it consisted solely in saving as much as was possible
from the devastated crops, either of corn or vegetables. The grain and the
plants were gathered, so as to provide a new harvest for the approaching
half-season. With regard to rebuilding the poultry-yard, wall, or stables,
Cyrus Harding preferred to wait. While he and his companions were in
pursuit of the convicts, the latter might very probably pay another visit
to the plateau, and it would be useless to give them an opportunity of
recommencing their work of destruction. when the island should be cleared
of these miscreants, they would set about rebuilding. The young
convalescent began to get up in the second week of January, at first for
one hour a day, then two, then three. His strength visibly returned, so
vigorous was his constitution. He was now eighteen years of age. He was
tall, and promised to become a man of noble and commanding presence. From
this time his recovery, while still requiring care,--and Dr. Spilett was
very strict,--made rapid progress. Towards the end of the month, Herbert
was already walking about on Prospect Heights, and the beach.

He derived, from several sea-baths, which he took in company with
Pencroft and Neb, the greatest possible benefit. Cyrus Harding thought he
might now settle the day for their departure, for which the 15th of
February was fixed. The nights, very clear at this time of year, would be
favorable to the researches they intended to make all over the island.

The necessary preparations for this exploration were now commenced, and
were important, for the colonists had sworn not to return to Granite House
until their twofold object had been achieved; on the one hand, to
exterminate the convicts, and rescue Ayrton, if he was still living; on the
other, to discover who it was that presided so effectually over the
fortunes of the colony.

Of Lincoln Island, the settlers knew thoroughly all the eastern coast
from Claw Cape to the Mandible Capes, the extensive Tadorn Marsh, the
neighborhood of Lake Grant, Jacamar Wood, between the road to the corral
and the Mercy, the courses of the Mercy and Red Creek, and lastly, the
spurs of Mount Franklin, among which the corral had been established.

They had explored, though only in an imperfect manner, the vast shore of
Washington Bay from Claw Cape to Reptile End, the woody and marshy border
of the west coast, and the interminable downs, ending at the open mouth of
Shark Gulf. But they had in no way surveyed the woods which covered the
Serpentine Peninsula, all to the right of the Mercy, the left bank of Falls
River, and the wilderness of spurs and valleys which supported three
quarters of the base of Mount Franklin, to the east, the north, and the
west, and where doubtless many secret retreats existed. Consequently, many
millions of acres of the island had still escaped their investigations.

It was, therefore, decided that the expedition should be carried through
the Far West, so as to include all that region situated on the right of the
Mercy.

It might, perhaps, be better worth while to go direct to the corral,
where it might be supposed that the convicts had again taken refuge, either
to pillage or to establish themselves there. But either the devastation of
the corral would have been an accomplished fact by this time, and it would
be too late to prevent it, or it had been the convicts' interest to
entrench themselves there, and there would be still time to go and turn
them out on their return.

Therefore, after some discussion, the first plan was adhered to, and the
settlers resolved to proceed through the wood to Reptile End. They would
make their way with their hatchets, and thus lay the first draft of a road
which would place Granite House in communication with the end of the
peninsula for a length of from sixteen to seventeen miles.

The cart was in good condition. The onagers, well rested, could go a long
journey. Provisions, camp effects, a portable stove, and various utensils
were packed in the cart, as also weapons and ammunition, carefully chosen
from the now complete arsenal of Granite House. But it was necessary to
remember that the convicts were, perhaps, roaming about the woods, and that
in the midst of these thick forests a shot might quickly be fired and
received. It was therefore resolved that the little band of settlers should
remain together and not separate under any pretext whatever.

It was also decided that no one should remain at Granite House. Top and
Jup themselves were to accompany the expedition; the inaccessible dwelling
needed no guard. The 14th of February, eve of the departure, was
consecrated entirely to repose, and--thanksgiving addressed by the colonists
to the Creator. A place in the cart was reserved for Herbert, who, though
thoroughly convalescent, was still a little weak. The next morning, at
daybreak, Cyrus Harding took the necessary measures to protect Granite
House from any invasion. The ladders, which were formerly used for the
ascent, were brought to the Chimneys and buried deep in the sand, so that
they might be available on the return of the colonists, for the machinery
of the lift had been taken to pieces, and nothing of the apparatus
remained. Pencroft stayed the last in Granite House in order to finish this
work, and he then lowered himself down by means of a double rope held
below, and which, when once hauled down, left no communication between the
upper landing and the beach.

The weather was magnificent.

"We shall have a warm day of it," said the reporter, laughing.

"Pooh! Dr. Spilett," answered Pencroft, "we shall walk under the shade of
the trees and shan't even see the sun!"

"Forward!" said the engineer.

The cart was waiting on the beach before the Chimneys. The reporter made
Herbert take his place in it during the first hours at least of the
journey, and the lad was obliged to submit to his doctor's orders.

Neb placed himself at the onagers' heads. Cyrus Harding, the reporter,
and the sailor, walked in front. Top bounded joyfully along. Herbert
offered a seat in his vehicle to Jup, who accepted it without ceremony. The
moment for departure had arrived, and the little band set out.

The cart first turned the angle of the mouth of the Mercy, then, having
ascended the left bank for a mile, crossed the bridge, at the other side of
which commenced the road to Port Balloon, and there the explorers, leaving
this road on their left, entered the cover of the immense woods which
formed the region of the Far West.

For the first two miles the widely scattered trees allowed the cart to
pass with ease; from time to time it became necessary to cut away a few
creepers and bushes, but no serious obstacle impeded the progress of the
colonists.

The thick foliage of the trees threw a grateful shade on the ground.
Deodars, Douglas firs, casuarinas, banksias, gum-trees, dragon-trees, and
other well-known species, succeeded each other far as the eye could reach.
The feathered tribes of the island were all represented--grouse, jacamars,
pheasants, lories, as well as the chattering cockatoos, parrots, and
paroquets. Agouties, kangaroos, and capybaras fled swiftly at their
approach; and all this reminded the settlers of the first excursions they
had made on their arrival at the island.

"Nevertheless," observed Cyrus Harding, "I notice that these creatures,
both birds and quadrupeds, are more timid than formerly. These woods have,
therefore, been recently traversed by the convicts, and we shall certainly
find some traces of them."

And, in fact, in several places they could distinguish traces, more or
less recent, of the passage of a band of men--here branches broken off the
trees, perhaps to mark out the way; there the ashes of a fire, and
footprints in clayey spots; but nothing which appeared to belong to a
settled encampment.

The engineer had recommended his companions to refrain from hunting. The
reports of the firearms might give the alarm to the convicts, who were,
perhaps, roaming through the forest. Moreover, the hunters would
necessarily ramble some distance from the cart, which it was dangerous to
leave unguarded.

In the afterpart of the day, when about six miles from Granite House,
their progress became much more difficult. In order to make their way
through some thickets, they were obliged to cut down trees. Before entering
such places Harding was careful to send in Top and Jup, who faithfully
accomplished their commission, and when the dog and orang returned without
giving any warning, there was evidently nothing to fear, either from
convicts or wild beasts, two varieties of the animal kingdom, whose
ferocious instincts placed them on the same level. On the evening of the
first day the colonists encamped about nine miles from Granite House, on
the border of a little stream falling into the Mercy, and of the existence
of which they had till then been ignorant; it evidently, however, belonged
to the hydiographical system to which the soil owed its astonishing
fertility. The settlers made a hearty meal, for their appetites were
sharpened, and measures were then taken that the night might be passed in
safety. If the engineer had had only to deal with wild beasts, jaguars or
others, he would have simply lighted fires all around his camp, which would
have sufficed for its defense; but the convicts would be rather attracted
than terrified by the flames, and it was, therefore, better to be
surrounded by the profound darkness of night.

The watch was, however, carefully organized. Two of the settlers were to
watch together, and every two hours it was agreed that they should be
relieved by their comrades. And so, notwithstanding his wish to the
contrary, Herbert was exempted from guard. Pencroft and Gideon Spilett in
one party, the engineer and Neb in another, mounted guard in turns over
the camp.

The night, however, was but of few hours. The darkness was due rather to
the thickness of the foliage than to the disappearance of the sun. The
silence was scarcely disturbed by the howling of jaguars and the chattering
of the monkeys, the latter appearing to particularly irritate Master Jup.
The night passed without incident, and on the next day, the 15th of
February, the journey through the forest, tedious rather than difficult,
was continued. This day they could not accomplish more than six miles, for
every moment they were obliged to cut a road with their hatchets.

Like true settlers, the colonists spared the largest and most beautiful
trees, which would besides have cost immense labor to fell, and the small
ones only were sacrificed, but the result was that the road took a very
winding direction, and lengthened itself by numerous detours.

During the day Herbert discovered several new specimens not before met
with in the island, such as the tree-fern, with its leaves spread out like
the waters of a fountain, locust-trees, on the long pods of which the
onagers browsed greedily, and which supplied a sweet pulp of excellent
flavor. There, too, the colonists again found groups of magnificent
kauries, their cylindrical trunks, crowded with a cone of verdure, rising
to a height of two hundred feet. These were the tree-kings of New Zealand,
as celebrated as the cedars of Lebanon.

As to the fauna, there was no addition to those species already known to
the hunters. Nevertheless, they saw, though unable to get near them, a
couple of those large birds peculiar to Australia, a sort of cassowary,
called emu, five feet in height, and with brown plumage, which belong to
the tribe of waders. Top darted after them as fast as his four legs could
carry him, but the emus distanced him with ease, so prodigious was their
speed.

As to the traces left by the convicts, a few more were discovered. Some
footprints found near an apparently recently extinguished fire were
attentively examined by the settlers. By measuring them one after the
other, according to their length and breadth, the marks of five men's feet
were easily distinguished. The five convicts had evidently camped on this
spot; but,--and this was the object of so minute an examination,--a sixth
footprint could not be discovered, which in that case would have been that
of Ayrton.

"Ayrton was not with them!" said Herbert.

"No," answered Pencroft, "and if he was not with them, it was because the
wretches had already murdered him! but then these rascals have not a den to
which they may be tracked like tigers!"

"No," replied the reporter, "it is more probable that they wander at
random, and it is their interest to rove about until the time when they
will be masters of the island!"

"The masters of the island!" exclaimed the sailor; "the masters of the
island!..." he repeated, and his voice was choked, as if his throat was
seized in an iron grasp. Then in a calmer tone, "Do you know, Captain
Harding," said he, "what the ball is which I have rammed into my gun?"

"No, Pencroft!"

"It is the ball that went through Herbert's chest, and I promise you it
won't miss its mark!'

But this just retaliation would not bring Ayrton back to life, and from
the examination of the footprints left in the ground, they must, alas!
conclude that all hopes of ever seeing him again must be abandoned.

That evening they encamped fourteen miles from Granite House, and Cyrus
Harding calculated that they could not be more than five miles from Reptile
Point.

And indeed, the next day the extremity of the peninsula was reached, and
the whole length of the forest had been traversed; but there was nothing to
indicate the retreat in which the convicts had taken refuge, nor that, no
less secret, which sheltered the mysterious unknown.

Chapter 12

The next day, the 18th of February, was devoted to the exploration of all
that wooded region forming the shore from Reptile End to Falls River. The
colonists were able to search this forest thoroughly, for, as it was
comprised between the two shores of the Serpentine Peninsula, it was only
from three to four miles in breadth. The trees, both by their height and
their thick foliage, bore witness to the vegetative power of the soil, more
astonishing here than in any other part of the island. One might have said
that a corner from the virgin forests of America or Africa had been
transported into this temperate zone. This led them to conclude that the
superb vegetation found a heat in this soil, damp in its upper layer, but
warmed in the interior by volcanic fires, which could not belong to a
temperate climate. The most frequently occurring trees were knaries and
eucalypti of gigantic dimensions.

But the colonists' object was not simply to admire the magnificent
vegetation. They knew already that in this respect Lincoln Island would
have been worthy to take the first rank in the Canary group, to which the
first name given was that of the Happy Isles. Now, alas! their island no
longer belonged to them entirely; others had taken possession of it,
miscreants polluted its shores, and they must be destroyed to the last man.

No traces were found on the western coast, although they were carefully
sought for. No more footprints, no more broken branches, no more deserted
camps.

"This does not surprise me," said Cyrus Harding to his companions. "The
convicts first landed on the island in the neighborhood of Flotsam Point,
and they immediately plunged into the Far West forests, after crossing
Tadorn Marsh. They then followed almost the same route that we took on
leaving Granite House. This explains the traces we found in the wood. But,
arriving on the shore, the convicts saw at once that they would discover no
suitable retreat there, and it was then that, going northwards again, they
came upon the corral."

"Where they have perhaps returned," said Pencroft.

"I do not think so," answered the engineer, "for they would naturally
suppose that our researches would be in that direction. The corral is only
a storehouse to them, and not a definitive encampment."

"I am of Cyrus' opinion," said the reporter, "and I think that it is
among the spurs of Mount Franklin that the convicts will have made their
lair."

"Then, captain, straight to the corral!" cried Pencroft. "We must finish
them off, and till now we have only lost time!"

"No, my friend," replied the engineer; "you forget that we have a reason
for wishing to know if the forests of the Far West do not contain some
habitation. Our exploration has a double object, Pencroft. If, on the one
hand, we have to chastise crime, we have, on the other, an act of gratitude
to perform."

"That was well said, captain," replied the sailor, "but, all the same, it
is my opinion that we shall not find the gentleman until he pleases."

And truly Pencroft only expressed the opinion of all. It was probable
that the stranger's retreat was not less mysterious than was he himself.

That evening the cart halted at the mouth of Falls River. The camp was
organized as usual, and the customary precautions were taken for the night.
Herbert, become again the healthy and vigorous lad he was before his
illness, derived great benefit from this life in the open air, between the
sea breezes and the vivifying air from the forests. His place was no longer
in the cart, but at the head of the troop.

The next day, the 19th of February, the colonists, leaving the shore,
where, beyond the mouth, basalts of every shape were so picturesquely piled
up, ascended the river by its left bank. The road had been already partly
cleared in their former excursions made from the corral to the west coast.
The settlers were now about six miles from Mount Franklin.

The engineer's plan was this:--To minutely survey the valley forming the
bed of the river, and to cautiously approach the neighborhood of the
corral; if the corral was occupied, to seize it by force; if it was not, to
entrench themselves there and make it the center of the operations which
had for their object the exploration of Mount Franklin.

This plan was unanimously approved by the colonists, for they were
impatient to regain entire possession of their island.

They made their way then along the narrow valley separating two of the
largest spurs of Mount Franklin. The trees, crowded on the river's bank,
became rare on the upper slopes of the mountain. The ground was hilly and
rough, very suitable for ambushes, and over which they did not venture
without extreme precaution. Top and Jup skirmished on

The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne Hypertext Meanings and Commentaries from the Encyclopedia of the Self by Mark ZimmermanReturn to Part 1 of 2

The Mysterious Island
by Jules Verne
Hypertext Meanings and Commentaries
from the Encyclopedia of the Self
by Mark Zimmerman
Return to Part 1 of 2