n this day, as it was raining in torrents, the settlers were assembled
in the great hall in Granite House, when the lad cried out all at
once,--

"Look here, captain--A grain of corn!"

And he showed his companions a grain--a single grain--which from a hole
in his pocket had got into the lining of his waistcoat.

The presence of this grain was explained by the fact that Herbert, when
at Richmond, used to feed some pigeons, of which Pencroft had made him a
present.

"A grain of corn?" said the engineer quickly.

"Yes, captain; but one, only one!"

"Well, my boy," said Pencroft, laughing, "we're getting on capitally,
upon my word! What shall we make with one grain of corn?"

"We will make bread of it," replied Cyrus Harding.

"Bread, cakes, tarts!" replied the sailor. "Come, the bread that this
grain of corn will make won't choke us very soon!"

Herbert, not attaching much importance to his discovery, was going to
throw away the grain in question; but Harding took it, examined it,
found that it was in good condition, and looking the sailor full in the
face--"Pencroft," he asked quietly, "do you know how many ears one grain
of corn can produce?"

"One, I suppose!" replied the sailor, surprised at the question.

"Ten, Pencroft! And do you know how many grains one ear bears?"

"No, upon my word."

"About eighty!" said Cyrus Harding. "Then, if we plant this grain, at
the first crop we shall reap eight hundred grains which at the second
will produce six hundred and forty thousand; at the third, five hundred
and twelve millions; at the fourth, more than four hundred thousands of
millions! There is the proportion."

Harding's companions listened without answering. These numbers
astonished them. They were exact, however.

"Yes, my friends," continued the engineer, "such are the arithmetical
progressions of prolific nature; and yet what is this multiplication
of the grain of corn, of which the ear only bears eight hundred grains,
compared to the poppy-plant, which bears thirty-two thousand seeds; to
the tobacco-plant, which produces three hundred and sixty thousand? In
a few years, without the numerous causes of destruction, which arrests
their fecundity, these plants would overrun the earth."

But the engineer had not finished his lecture.

"And now, Pencroft," he continued, "do you know how many bushels four
hundred thousand millions of grains would make?"

"No," replied the sailor; "but what I do know is,