you have become a man again, for you
can weep!"

[Illustration: THE EXPERIMENT]

CHAPTER XVI

A Mystery to be cleared up -- The Stranger's first Words --
Twelve Years on the Islet -- Avowal which escapes him -- The
Disappearance -- Cyrus Harding's Confidence -- Construction
of a Mill -- The first Bread -- An Act of Devotion -- Honest
Hands.

Yes! the unfortunate man had wept! Some recollection doubtless had
flashed across his brain, and to use Cyrus Harding's expression, by
those tears he was once more a man.

The colonists left him for some time on the plateau, and withdrew
themselves to a short distance, so that he might feel himself free;
but he did not think of profiting by this liberty, and Harding soon
brought him back to Granite House. Two days after this occurrence, the
stranger appeared to wish gradually to mingle with their common life.
He evidently heard and understood, but no less evidently was he
strangely determined not to speak to the colonists; for one evening,
Pencroft, listening at the door of his room, heard these words escape
from his lips:--

"No! here! I! never!"

The sailor reported these words to his companions.

"There is some painful mystery there!" said Harding.

The stranger had begun to use the labouring tools, and he worked in
the garden. When he stopped in his work, as was often the case, he
remained retired within himself; but on the engineer's recommendation,
they respected the reserve which he apparently wished to keep. If one
of the settlers approached him, he drew back, and his chest heaved
with sobs, as if overburthened!

Was it remorse that overwhelmed him thus? They were compelled to
believe so, and Gideon Spilett could not help one day making this
observation,--

"If he does not speak it is because he has, I fear, things too serious
to be told!"

They must be patient and wait.

[Illustration: "WHO ARE YOU?" HE ASKED IN A HOLLOW VOICE]

A few days later, on the 3rd of November, the stranger, working on the
plateau, had stopped, letting his spade drop to the ground, and
Harding who was observing him from a little distance, saw that tears
were again flowing from his eyes. A sort of irresistible pity led him
towards the unfortunate man, and he touched his arm lightly.

"My friend!" said he.

The stranger tried to avoid his look, and Cyrus Harding, having
endeavoured to take his hand, he drew back quickly.

"My friend," said Harding