“Hurrah!” exclaimed Pencroft, “and that will be no small present which we shall make to our country! The colonisation is already almost finished; names are given to every part of the island; there is a natural port, fresh water, roads, a telegraph, a dockyard, and manufactories; and there will be nothing to be done but to inscribe Lincoln Island on the maps!”
“But if any one seizes it in our absence?” observed Gideon Spilett.
“Hang it!” cried the sailor. “I would rather remain all alone to guard it: and trust to Pencroft, they shouldn’t steal it from him, like a watch from the pocket of a swell!”
For an hour it was impossible to say with any certainty whether the vessel was or was not standing towards Lincoln Island. She was nearer, but in what direction was she sailing? This Pencroft could not determine. However, as the wind was blowing from the north-east, in all probability the vessel was sailing on the starboard tack. Besides, the wind was favourable for bringing her towards the island, and, the sea being calm, she would not be afraid to approach although the shallows were not marked on the chart.
Towards four o’clock—an hour after he had been sent for—Ayrton arrived at Granite House. He entered the dining-room, saying—
“At your service, gentlemen.”
Cyrus Harding gave him his hand, as was his custom to do, and, leading him to the window—
“Ayrton,” said he, “we have begged you to come here for an important reason. A ship is in sight of the island.”
Ayrton at first paled slightly, and for a moment his eyes
