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: 153deg W. long., 37deg 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.”