During the first quarter of an hour the silence was only interrupted by this remark from Pencroft:—
“We ought to have brought a torch.”
And by this reply from the engineer:—
“We shall find one at the corral.”
Harding and his companions had left Granite House at twelve minutes past nine. At forty-seven minutes past nine they had traversed three out of the five miles which separated the mouth of the Mercy from the corral.
At that moment sheets of lightning spread over the island and illumined the dark trees. The flashes dazzled and almost blinded them. Evidently the storm would not be long in bursting forth.
The flashes gradually became brighter and more rapid. Distant thunder growled in the sky. The atmosphere was stifling.
The colonists proceeded as if they were urged onwards by some irresistible force.
At ten o’clock a vivid flash showed them the palisade, and as they reached the gate the storm burst forth with tremendous fury.
In a minute the corral was crossed, and Harding stood before the hut.