a, it all appeared easy to him; Cyrus
Harding helping, everything would be done in time. He dreamed of canals
facilitating the transport of the riches of the ground; workings
of quarries and mines; machines for every industrial manufacture;
railroads; yes, railroads! of which a network would certainly one day
cover Lincoln Island.

The engineer let Pencroft talk. He did not put down the aspirations of
this brave heart. He knew how communicable confidence is; he even smiled
to hear him speak, and said nothing of the uneasiness for the future
which he felt. In fact, in that part of the Pacific, out of the course
of vessels, it was to be feared that no help would ever come to them. It
was on themselves, on themselves alone, that the settlers must depend,
for the distance of Lincoln Island from all other land was such, that
to hazard themselves in a boat, of a necessarily inferior construction,
would be a serious and perilous thing.

"But," as the sailor said, "they quite took the wind out of the sails of
the Robinsons, for whom everything was done by a miracle."

In fact, they were energetic; an energetic man will succeed where an
indolent one would vegetate and inevitably perish.

Herbert distinguished himself in these works. He was intelligent and
active; understanding quickly, he performed well; and Cyrus Harding
became more and more attached to the boy. Herbert had a lively and
reverent love for the engineer. Pencroft saw the close sympathy which
existed between the two, but he was not in the least jealous. Neb
was Neb: he was what he would be always, courage, zeal, devotion,
self-denial personified. He had the same faith in his master that
Pencroft had, but he showed it less vehemently. When the sailor was
enthusiastic, Neb always looked as if he would say, "Nothing could be
more natural." Pencroft and he were great friends.

As to Gideon Spilett, he took part in the common work, and was not less
skilful in it than his companions, which always rather astonished
the sailor. A "journalist," clever, not only in understanding, but in
performing everything.

The ladder was finally fixed on the 28th of May. There were not less
than a hundred rounds in this perpendicular height of eighty feet.
Harding had been able, fortunately, to divide it in two parts, profiting
by an overhanging of the cliff which made a projection forty feet above
the ground. This projection, carefully leveled by the pickaxe, made a
sort of platf