Gradually the form of the island grew more distinct on the horizon. The orb of day sinking in the west, threw up its peculiar outlines in sharp relief. A few peaks of no great elevation stood out here and there, tipped with sunlight. At five o’clock John Mangles could discern a light smoke rising from it.
“Is it a volcano?” he asked of Paganel, who was gazing at this new land through his telescope.
“I don’t know what to think,” replied the geographer; “Maria Theresa is a spot little known; nevertheless, it would not be surprising if its origin were due to some submarine upheaval, and consequently it may be volcanic.”
“But in that case,” said Glenarvan, “is there not reason to fear that if an eruption produced it, an eruption may carry it away?”
“That is not possible,” replied Paganel. “We know of its existence for several centuries, which is our security. When the Isle Julia emerged from the Mediterranean, it did not remain long above the waves, and disappeared a few months after its birth.”
“Very good,” said Glenarvan. “Do you think, John, we can get there to-night?”
“No, your honor, I must not risk the DUNCAN in the dark, for I am unacquainted with the coast. I will keep under steam, but go very slowly, and to-morrow, at daybreak, we can send off a boat.”
At eight o’clock in the evening, Maria Theresa, though five miles to leeward, appeared only an elongated shadow, scarcely visible. The DUNCAN was always getting nearer.
At nine o’clock, a bright glare became visible, and flames shot up through the darkness. The light was steady and continued.
“That confirms the supposition of a volcano,” said Paganel, observing it attentively.