n that you hope, Mr Spilett," said Pencroft. "Tell me
again that you will save Herbert!"

"Yes, we will save him!" replied the reporter. "The wound is serious,
and, perhaps, even the ball has traversed the lungs, but the perforation
of this organ is not fatal."

"God bless you!" answered Pencroft.

As may be believed, during the four-and-twenty hours they had been in
the corral, the colonists had no other thought than that of nursing
Herbert. They did not think either of the danger which threatened them
should the convicts return, or of the precautions to be taken for the
future.

But on this day, whilst Pencroft watched by the sick-bed, Cyrus Harding
and the reporter consulted as to what it would be best to do.

First of all they examined the corral. There was not a trace of Ayrton.
Had the unhappy man been dragged away by his former accomplices? Had
he resisted, and been overcome in the struggle? This last supposition
was only too probable. Gideon Spilett, at the moment he scaled the
palisade, had clearly seen some one of the convicts running along the
southern spur of Mount Franklin, towards whom Top had sprung. It was
one of those whose object had been so completely defeated by the rocks
at the mouth of the Mercy. Besides, the one killed by Harding, and
whose body was found outside the enclosure, of course belonged to Bob
Harvey's crew.

As to the corral, it had not suffered any damage. The gates were
closed, and the animals had not been able to disperse in the forest.
Nor could they see traces of any struggle, any devastation, either in
the hut, or in the palisade. The ammunition only, with which Ayrton had
been supplied, had disappeared with him.

"The unhappy man has been surprised," said Harding, "and as he was a man
to defend himself, he must have been overpowered."

"Yes, that is to be feared!" said the reporter. "Then, doubtless, the
convicts installed themselves in the corral where they found plenty of
everything, and only fled when they saw us coming. It is very evident,
too, that at this moment Ayrton, whether living or dead, is not here!"

"We shall have to beat the forest," said the engineer, "and rid the
island of these wretches. Pencroft's presentiments were not mistaken,
when he wished to hunt them as wild beasts. That would have spared us
all these misfortunes!"

"Yes," answered the reporter, "but now we have the right to be
merciless!"

"At any rate," said the engineer,