"Yes, Miss Mary," said the captain; "when men have exhausted human resources, then Heaven interposes, and, by some unforeseen event, opens to them new ways."
"God grant it, captain!" replied Mary.
The shore was now only a cable's length distant. The cape terminated in gentle declivities extending far out into the sea. The boat entered a small creek, between banks of coral in process of formation, which in time would form a chain of reefs along the southern coast of the island.
The passengers of the Duncan disembarked on a perfectly barren shore. Steep cliffs formed a lofty sea-wall, and it would have been difficult to scale this natural rampart without ladders or cramping-irons. Fortunately, the captain discovered a breach half a mile southward, caused by a partial crumbling of the cliffs. Probably the sea, during violent equinoctial storms, had beaten against this fragile barrier, and thus caused the fall of the upper portions of the mass.
Glenarvan and his companions entered this opening, and reached the summit of the cliffs by a very steep ascent. Robert climbed an abrupt declivity with the agility of a cat, and arrived first at the top, to the great chagrin of Paganel, who was quite mortified at seeing himself outstripped by a mere lad of twelve. However, he distanced the peaceable major; but that worthy was utterly indifferent to his defeat.
The little party surveyed the plain that stretched out beneath them. It was a vast, uncultivated tract, covered with bushes and brushwood, and was compared by Glenarvan to the glens of the Scottish lowlands, and by Paganel to the barren lands of Brittany. But though the country along the coast was evidently uninhabited, the presence of man, not the savage, but the civilized worker, was betokened by several substantial structures in the distance.
"A mill!" cried Robert.
True enough, at no great distance apparently, the sails of a mill were seen.
"It is indeed a mill," replied Paganel. "Here is a beacon as modest as it is useful, the sight of which delights my eyes."