y of his life? Would the stranger one day speak of
it? Time alone could show. At any rate, it was agreed that his secret
should never be asked from him, and that they would live with him as
if they suspected nothing.

For some days their life continued as before. Cyrus Harding and
Gideon Spilett worked together, sometimes chemists, sometimes
experimentalists. The reporter never left the engineer except to hunt
with Herbert, for it would not have been prudent to allow the lad to
ramble alone in the forest; and it was very necessary to be on
their guard. As to Neb and Pencroft, one day at the stables and
poultry-yard, another at the corral, without reckoning work in Granite
House, they were never in want of employment.

The stranger worked alone, and he had resumed his usual life, never
appearing at meals, sleeping under the trees in the plateau, never
mingling with his companions. It really seemed as if the society of
those who had saved him was insupportable to him!

"But then," observed Pencroft, "why did he entreat the help of his
fellow-creatures? Why did he throw that paper into the sea?"

"He will tell us why," invariably replied Cyrus Harding.

"When?"

"Perhaps sooner than you think, Pencroft."

And, indeed, the day of confession was near.

On the 10th of December, a week after his return to Granite House,
Harding saw the stranger approaching, who, in a calm voice and humble
tone, said to him: "Sir, I have a request to make you."

"Speak," answered the engineer; "but first let me ask you a question."

At these words the stranger reddened, and was on the point of
withdrawing. Cyrus Harding understood what was passing in the mind of
the guilty man, who doubtless feared that the engineer would
interrogate him on his past life.

Harding held him back.

"Comrade," said he, "we are not only your companions but your friends.
I wish you to believe that, and now I will listen to you."

The stranger pressed his hand over his eyes. He was seized with a sort
of trembling, and remained a few moments without being able to
articulate a word.

"Sir," said he at last, "I have come to beg you to grant me a favour."

"What is it?"

"You have, four or five miles from here, a corral for your
domesticated animals. These animals need to be taken care of. Will you
allow me to live there with them?"

Cyrus Harding gazed at the unfortunate man for a few moments with a
feeling of deep commiseration; then,--

"My fri