he leader?

Soon they arrived at the place where the road led along the side of a
little stream which flowed from the Red Creek and watered the meadows of
the corral. They then moderated their pace so that they should not be
out of breath at the moment when a struggle might be necessary. Their
guns were in their hands ready cocked. The forest was watched on every
side. Top uttered sullen groans which were rather ominous.

At last the palisade appeared through the trees. No trace of any damage
could be seen. The gate was shut as usual. Deep silence reigned in the
corral. Neither the accustomed bleating of the sheep nor Ayrton's voice
could be heard.

"Let us enter," said Cyrus Harding.

And the engineer advanced, whilst his companions, keeping watch about
twenty paces behind him, were ready to fire at a moment's notice.

Harding raised the inner latch of the gate and was about to push it
back, when Top barked loudly. A report sounded and was responded to by
a cry of pain.

Herbert, struck by a bullet, lay stretched on the ground.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

THE REPORTER AND PENCROFT IN THE CORRAL--HERBERT'S WOUND--THE SAILOR'S
DESPAIR--CONSULTATION BETWEEN THE REPORTER AND THE ENGINEER--MODE OF
TREATMENT--HOPE NOT ABANDONED--HOW IS NEB TO BE WARNED--A SURE AND
FAITHFUL MESSENGER--NEB'S REPLY.

At Herbert's cry Pencroft, letting his gun fall, rushed towards him.

"They have killed him!" he cried. "My boy! They have killed him!"

Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett ran to Herbert.

The reporter listened to ascertain if the poor lad's heart was still
beating.

"He lives," said he; "but he must be carried--"

"To Granite House? that is impossible!" replied the engineer.

"Into the corral, then!" said Pencroft.

"In a moment," said Harding.

And he ran round the left corner of the palisade. There he found a
convict who, aiming at him, sent a ball through his hat. In a few
seconds, before he had even time to fire his second barrel, he fell,
struck to the heart by Harding's dagger, more sure even than his gun.

During this time, Gideon Spilett and the sailor hoisted themselves over
the palisade, leapt into the enclosure, threw down the props which
supported the inner door, ran into the empty house, and soon poor
Herbert was lying on Ayrton's bed. In a few moments, Harding was by his
side.

On seeing Herbert senseless, the sailor's grief was terrible. He
sobbed, he cried, he tried to beat his head ag