ns of defense which they had at their disposal, had gained the less
accessible parts of the island.

Arrived at Port Balloon, Pencroft saw with extreme satisfaction that
the "Bonadventure" was tranquilly floating in the narrow creek. However,
Port Balloon was so well hidden among high rocks, that it could scarcely
be discovered either from the land or the sea.

"Come," said Pencroft, "the blackguards have not been there yet. Long
grass suits reptiles best, and evidently we shall find them in the Far
West."

"And it's very lucky, for if they had found the 'Bonadventure'," added
Herbert, "they would have gone off in her, and we should have been
prevented from returning to Tabor Island."

"Indeed," remarked the reporter, "it will be important to take a
document there which will make known the situation of Lincoln Island,
and Ayrton's new residence, in case the Scotch yacht returns to fetch
him."

"Well, the 'Bonadventure' is always there, Mr. Spilett," answered the
sailor. "She and her crew are ready to start at a moment's notice!"

"I think, Pencroft, that that is a thing to be done after our
exploration of the island is finished. It is possible after all that the
stranger, if we manage to find him, may know as much about Tabor Island
as about Lincoln Island. Do not forget that he is certainly the author
of the document, and he may, perhaps, know how far we may count on the
return of the yacht!"

"But!" exclaimed Pencroft, "who in the world can he be? The fellow knows
us and we know nothing about him! If he is a simple castaway, why should
he conceal himself! We are honest men, I suppose, and the society of
honest men isn't unpleasant to any one. Did he come here voluntarily?
Can he leave the island if he likes? Is he here still? Will he remain
any longer?"

Chatting thus, Pencroft, Gideon Spilett, and Herbert got on board and
looked about the deck of the "Bonadventure." All at once, the sailor
having examined the bitts to which the cable of the anchor was
secured,--

"Hallo," he cried, "this is queer!"

"What is the matter, Pencroft?" asked the reporter.

"The matter is, that it was not I who made this knot!"

And Pencroft showed a rope which fastened the cable to the bitt itself.

"What, it was not you?" asked Gideon Spilett.

"No! I can swear to it. This is a reef knot, and I always make a running
bowline."

"You must be mistaken, Pencroft."

"I am not mistaken!" declared the sailor. "My hand does