onceals himself from us."

"Let us make search for him, then!" exclaimed Pencroft.

"Yes, we will search for him," answered Harding, "but we shall not
discover this powerful being who performs such wonders, until he pleases
to call us to him!"

This invisible protection, which rendered their own action unavailing,
both irritated and piqued the engineer. The relative inferiority which
it proved was of a nature to wound a haughty spirit. A generosity
evinced in such a manner as to elude all tokens of gratitude, implied a
sort of disdain for those on whom the obligation was conferred, which in
Cyrus Harding's eyes marred, in some degree, the worth of the benefit.

"Let us search," he resumed, "and God grant that we may some day be
permitted to prove to this haughty protector that he has not to deal
with ungrateful people! What would I not give could we repay him, by
rendering him in our turn, although at the price of our lives, some
signal service!"

From this day, the thoughts of the inhabitants of Lincoln Island were
solely occupied with the intended search. Everything incited them to
discover the answer to this enigma, an answer which would only be the
name of a man endowed with a truly inexplicable, and in some degree
superhuman power.

In a few minutes, the settlers re-entered the house, where their
influence soon restored to Ayrton his moral and physical energy. Neb
and Pencroft carried the corpses of the convicts into the forest, some
distance from the corral, and buried them deep in the ground.

Ayrton was then made acquainted with the facts which had occurred during
his seclusion. He learned Herbert's adventures, and through what various
trials the colonists had passed. As to the settlers, they had despaired
of ever seeing Ayrton again, and had been convinced that the convicts
had ruthlessly murdered him.

"And now," said Cyrus Harding, as he ended his recital, "a duty remains
for us to perform. Half of our task is accomplished, but although the
convicts are no longer to be feared, it is not owing to ourselves that
we are once more masters of the island."

"Well!" answered Gideon Spilett, "let us search all this labyrinth of
the spurs of Mount Franklin. We will not leave a hollow, not a hole
unexplored! Ah! if ever a reporter found himself face to face with a
mystery, it is I who now speak to you, my friends!"

"And we will not return to Granite House until we have found our
benefactor," said Herbert.