, 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 laboring 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 overburdened!
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.
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
endeavored to take his hand, he drew back quickly.
"My friend," said Harding in a firmer voice, "look at me, I wish it!"
The stranger looked at the engineer, and seemed to be under his power,
as a subject under the influence of a mesmerist. He wished to run away.
But then his countenance suddenly underwent a transformation. His eyes
flashed. Words struggled to escape from his lips. He could no longer
contain himself! At last he folded his arms; then, in a hollow
voice,--"Who are you?" he asked Cyrus Harding.
"Castaways, like you," replied the engineer, whose emotion was deep. "We
have brought you here, among your fellow-men."
"My fellow-men!.... I have none!"
"You are in the midst of friends."
"Friends!--for me! friends!" exclaimed the stranger, hiding his face in
his
|