-- The Electric Telegraph -- The Wires --
The Battery -- The Alphabet -- Fine Season -- Prosperity of
the Colony -- Photography -- An Appearance of Snow -- Two
Years in Lincoln Island.

"Poor man!" said Herbert, who had rushed to the door, but returned,
having seen Ayrton slide down the rope of the lift and disappear in
the darkness.

"He will come back," said Cyrus Harding.

"Come now, captain," exclaimed Pencroft, "what does that mean? What!
wasn't it Ayrton who threw that bottle into the sea? Who was it then?"

Certainly, if ever a question was necessary to be made, it was that
one!

"It was he," answered Neb, "only the unhappy man was half mad."

"Yes!" said Herbert, "and he was no longer conscious of what he was
doing."

"It can only be explained in that way, my friends," replied Harding
quickly, "and I understand now how Ayrton was able to point out
exactly the situation of Tabor Island, since the events which had
preceded his being left on the Island had made it known to him."

"However," observed Pencroft, "if he was not yet a brute when he wrote
that document, and if he threw it into the sea seven or eight years
ago, how is it that the paper has not been injured by damp?"

"That proves," answered Cyrus Harding, "that Ayrton was deprived of
intelligence at a more recent time than he thinks."

"Of course it must be so," replied Pencroft, "without that the fact
would be unaccountable."

"Unaccountable indeed," answered the engineer, who did not appear
desirous to prolong the conversation.

"But has Ayrton told the truth?" asked the sailor.

"Yes," replied the reporter. "The story which he has told is true in
every point. I remember quite well the account in the newspapers of
the yacht expedition undertaken by Lord Glenarvan, and its result."

"Ayrton has told the truth," added Harding. "Do not doubt it,
Pencroft, for it was painful to him. People tell the truth when they
accuse themselves like that!"

The next day--the 21st of December--the colonists descended to the
beach, and having climbed the plateau they found nothing of Ayrton. He
had reached his house in the corral during the night, and the settlers
judged it best not to agitate him by their presence. Time would
doubtless perform what sympathy had been unable to accomplish.

Herbert, Pencroft, and Neb resumed their ordinary occupations. On this
day the same work brought Harding and the reporter to the workshop at
the Chimn