eral years to come from Tabor Island to Lincoln
Island?"

"That is not absolutely impossible," replied the reporter.

"Might it not have been a long time already on the coast of the
island?"

"No," answered Pencroft, "for it was still floating. We could not even
suppose that after it had stayed for any length of time on the shore,
it would have been swept off by the sea, for the south coast is all
rocks, and it would certainly have been smashed to pieces there!"

"That is true," rejoined Cyrus Harding thoughtfully.

"And then," continued the sailor, "if the document was several years
old, if it had been shut up in that bottle for several years, it would
have been injured by damp. Now, there is nothing of the kind, and it
was found in a perfect state of preservation."

The sailor's reasoning was very just, and pointed out an
incomprehensible fact, for the document appeared to have been recently
written, when the colonists found it in the bottle. Moreover, it gave
the latitude and longitude of Tabor Island correctly, which implied
that its author had a more complete knowledge of hydrography than
could be expected of a common sailor.

"There is in this, again, something unaccountable," said the engineer;
"but we will not urge our companion to speak. When he likes, my
friends, then we shall be ready to hear him!"

During the following days the stranger did not speak a word, and did
not once leave the precincts of the plateau. He worked away, without
losing a moment, without taking a minute's rest, but always in a
retired place. At meal times he never came to Granite House, although
invited several times to do so, but contented himself with eating a
few raw vegetables. At nightfall he did not return to the room
assigned to him, but remained under some clump of trees, or when the
weather was bad crouched in some cleft of the rocks. Thus he lived in
the same manner as when he had no other shelter than the forests of
Tabor Island, and as all persuasion to induce him to improve his life
was in vain, the colonists waited patiently. And the time was near,
when, as it seemed, almost involuntarily urged by his conscience, a
terrible confession escaped him.

On the 10th of November, about eight o'clock in the evening, as night
was coming on, the stranger appeared unexpectedly before the settlers,
who were assembled under the verandah. His eyes burned strangely, and
he had quite resumed the wild aspect of his worst days.