living or dead, there is something unaccountable and unlikely." "I wish I could think like you, Mr. Spilett," replied Pencroff; "unhappily, my mind is made up on this point." Having said this, the sailor returned to the Chimneys. A good fire crackled on the hearth. Harbert had just thrown on an armful of dry wood and the flame threw a bright light into the darkest parts of the passage. Pencroff immediately began to prepare the dinner. It appeared best to introduce something solid in the bill of fare, for all needed to recruit their strength. The strings of couroucous were kept for the next day, but they plucked a couple of tétras, which were soon spitted on a stick, and roasting before a blazing fire. At seven in the evening Neb had not returned. The prolonged absence of the negro made Pencroff very uneasy. It was to be feared that he had met with an accident on this unknown land, or that the unhap py fellow had been driven to some act of desperation. But Harbert drew very different conclusions from this absence. According to him, Neb's delay was caused by some new circumstances which had induced him to prolong his search. Also, everything new must be to the advantage of Cyrus Smith. Why had Neb not returned unless hope still detained him? Perhaps he had found some mark, a footstep, a trace which had put him in the right path. Perhaps he was at this moment on a certain track. Perhaps, even, he was near his master. Thus the lad reasoned. Thus he spoke. His companions let him talk. The reporter alone approved with a gesture. But what Pencroff thought most probable was, SHELTERED FROM THE STORM. that Neb had pushed his researches on the shore further than the day before, and that he had not yet had time to return. However Harbert, agitated by vague presentiments, several times manifested an intention to go to meet Neb; but Pencroff assured him that that would be a useless course; that in the darkness and deplorable weather he could not find any traces of Neb, and that it would be much better to wait. If Neb did not make his appearance by the next day, Pencroff would not hesitate to join him in his search. Gideon Spilett coincided in the sailor's opinion that it was best not to divide, and Harbert was obliged to give up his project; but the sailor noticed that his eyes were filled with tears. 66 ALL THREE RUSHED TOWARDS THE OPENING OF THE CHIMNEYS." The reporter could not refrain from em bracing the generous boy. Bad weather now set in. A furious gale from the south-east passed over the coast. The sea roared as it beat over the reef. Heavy rain was dashed by the storm into particles like dust. Ragged masses of vapor drove along the beach, on which the tormented shingles sounded as if poured out in cart-loads, while the sand raised by the wind added, as it were, mineral dust to that which was liquid, and rendered the united attack insupportable. Between the river's mouth and the end of the cliff, eddies of wind whirled and gusts from this maelstrom lashed the water which ran through the narrow valley. The smoke from the fire-place was also driven back through the opening, filling the passages and rendering them uninhabitable. Therefore, since the tétras were cooked, Pencroff let the fire die away, and only preserved a few embers buried under the ashes. At eight o'clock Neb had not appeared, but there was no doubt that the frightful weather alone hindered his return, and that he must have taken refuge in some cave to await the end of the storm or at least the return of day. As to going to meet him, or attempting to find him, it was impossible. The game constituted the only dish at supper; the meat was excellent, and Pencroff and Harbert, whose long excursion had rendered them very hungry, devoured it with intense satisfaction. Their meal concluded, each retired to the corner in which he had rested the preceding night, and Harbert was not long in going to sleep near the sailor, who had stretched himself beside the fire-place. Outside, as the night advanced, the tempest also increased in strength, until it was equal to that which had carried the prisoners from Richmond to this land in the Pacific. The tempests, which are frequent during these seasons of the equinox, and which are so prolific in catastrophes, are especially terrible over this immense extent, which opposes no obstacle to their fury. No description can give an idea of the terrific violence of the gale as it beat upon this unprotected coast. Happily the pile of rocks which formed the Chimneys was solid. It was composed of enormous blocks of granite, a few of which, insecurely balanced, seemed to tremble on their foundation, and Pencroff could feel rapid quiverings under his hand as it rested on the side. But he repeated to himself, and rightly, that there was nothing to fear, and that their retreat would not give way. Still he heard the noise of stones torn from the summit of the plateau by the wind, falling down to the beach. A few even rolled on to the upper part of the Chimneys, or flew off in fragments when they were projected perpendicularly. Twice the sailor rose and entrenched himself at the opening of the passage, so as to take a look in safety at the outside. But there was nothing to be feared from these showers, which were not considerable, and he returned to his place before the fire where the embers glowed beneath the ashes. Notwithstanding the fury of the hurricane, the uproar of the tempest, the thunder and the tumult, Harbert slept profoundly. Sleep at last took possession of Pencroff, whom a sea-faring life had habituated to anything. Gideon Spilett alone was kept awake by anxiety. He reproached himself with not having accompanied Neb. It was evident that he had not abandoned all hope. The presentiments. which had troubled Harbert did not cease to agitate him also. His thoughts were concentrated on Neb. Why had Neb not returned? He tossed about on his sandy couch, scarcely giving a thought to the struggle of the elements. Now and then, his eyes, heavy with fatigue, closed for an instant, but some rapid thought re-opened them almost immediately. Meanwhile the night advanced, and it was perhaps two hours from morning when Pencroff, then sound asleep, was vigorously shaken. 66 What's the matter?" 66 NEB WAS THERE, KNEELING BESIDE A BODY." BACK TO THE CHIMNEYS. really thought he heard, during a lull, a distant barking. "Well!" said the reporter, pressing the sailor's hand. "Yes-yes!" replied Pencroff. "It's Top! It's Top!" cried Harbert, who had just awoke, and all three rushed towards the opening of the Chimneys. They had great difficulty in getting out. The wind drove them back. But at last they succeeded, and could only remain standing by leaning against the rocks. They looked about, but could not speak. The darkness was intense. The sea, the sky, the land were all mingled in one black mass. Not a speck of light was visible. The reporter and his companions remained thus for a few minutes, over whelmed by the wind. drenched by the rain, and blinded by the sand. Then, in a pause of the tumult, they again heard the barking, which they found must be at some distance. It could only be Top! But was he alone or accompanied? He was most probably alone, for, if Neb had been with him, he would have made his way more directly towards the Chimneys. The sailor squeezed the reporter's hand, for he could not make himself heard, in a way that signified "Wait!" Then he reentered the passage. An instant after he issued with a lighted fagot, which he threw into the darkness, whistling shrilly. It appeared as if this signal had been waited for; the barking. immediately came nearer, and soon a dog bounded into the passage. Pencroff, Harbert and Spilett entered after him. An armful of dry wood was thrown on the embers. The passage was lighted up with a bright flame. "It's Top!" cried Harbert. It was indeed Top, a magnificent AngloNorman, who derived from these two races crossed, the swiftness of foot and acuteness of smell which are the preeminent qualities of coursing dogs. It was the dog of the engineer, Cyrus Smith. But he was alone! Neither Neb nor his master accompanied him. How was it that his instinct had guided him straight to the Chimneys, which he did not know? It appeared inexplicable, above all, in the midst of this black night, and in such a tempest! But what was more inexplicable was, that Top was neither tired, nor exhausted, nor even soiled with mud Pencroff carefully covered the embers on the hearth. He placed a few pieces of wood amongst them, so as to keep in the fire until their return. Then, preceded by the dog, who seemed to invite them by short barks to come with him, and followed by the reporter and the boy, he dashed out, after having placed in his handkerchief the remains of the supper. The storm was then in all its violence, and, perhaps, at its height. Not a single ray of light from the moon pierced through the clouds. To follow a straight course was difficult. It was best to rely on Top's instinct. They did so. The reporter and Harbert walked behind the dog, and the sailor brought up the rear. It was impossible to exchange a word. The rain was not very heavy, but the wind was terrific. However, one circumstance favored the seaman and his two companions. The wind being south-east, consequently blew on their backs. The clouds of sand, which otherwise would have been insupportable, were then received from behind, and therefore did not impede their progress. Indeed, they sometimes went faster than they liked, and had some difficulty in keeping their feet; but hope gave them strength, for it was not at random this time that they climbed the shore. They had no doubt that Neb had found his master, and that he had sent them the faithful dog. But was the engineer living, or had Neb only sent for his companions that they might render the last duties to the corpse of the unfortunate Smith ? After having passed the precipice, Harbert, the reporter, and Pencroff prudently stepped aside to stop and take breath. The turn of the rocks sheltered them from the wind, and they could breathe after this walk, or rather run, of a quarter of an hour. They could now hear and reply to each other, and the lad having pronounced the name of Cyrus Smith, Top gave a few short barks, as much as to say that his master was saved. VOL. VIII.-19 "Saved, isn't he?" repeated Harbert; "saved, Top?" And the dog barked in reply. They once more set out. The tide began to rise, and urged by the wind, it threatened to be unusually high, as it was a spring tide. Great billows thundered against the reef with such violence that they probably passed entirely over the islet, then quite invisible. This mole did not protect the coast, which was directly. exposed to the attacks of the open sea. As soon as the sailor and his companions left the precipice, the wind struck them again with renewed fury. Though bent under the gale, they walked very quickly, following Top, who did not hesitate as to what direction to take. They ascended towards the north, having on their left an interminable extent of billows, which broke with a deafening noise, and on their right a dark country, the aspect of which it was impossible to guess. But they felt that it was comparatively flat, for the wind passed completely over them, without being driven back, as it was when it came in contact with the cliff. At four o'clock in the morning they reckoned that they had cleared about five miles. The clouds were slightly raised, and the wind, though less damp, was very sharp and cold. Insufficiently protected by their clothing, Pencroff, Harbert and Spilett, suffered severely, but not a complaint escaped their lips. were determined to follow Top, wherever that intelligent animal wished to lead them. They Towards five o'clock day began to break. At the zenith, where the fog was less thick, gray shades bordered the clouds; and under an opaque belt, a luminous line clearly traced the horizon. The crests of the billows were tipped with a wild light, and the foam regained its whiteness. At the same time, on the left, the hilly parts of the coast could be seen, though very indistinctly. The At six o'clock day had broken. clouds rapidly lifted. The seaman and his companions were then about six miles from the Chimneys. They were following a very flat shore, bounded by a reef of rocks, whose heads scarcely emerged from the sea, for they were in deep water. the left, the country appeared to be one vast extent of sandy downs, bristling with thistles. There was no cliff, and the shore offered no resistance to the ocean but a On |