fferent
projects which it was agreed to put into execution with the briefest
possible delay. It was necessary first of all to throw a bridge over the
Mercy, so as to establish an easy communication with the south of the
island; then the cart must be taken to bring back the balloon, for the
canoe alone could not carry it, then they would build a decked boat, and
Pencroft would rig it as a cutter, and they would be able to undertake
voyages of circumnavigation round the island, etc.

In the meanwhile night came on, and it was already dark when the
settlers reached Flotsam Point, where they had found the precious chest.

The distance between Flotsam Point and Granite House was another four
miles, and it was midnight when, after having followed the shore to the
mouth of the Mercy, the settlers arrived at the first angle formed by
the Mercy.

There the river was eighty feet in breadth, which was awkward to cross,
but as Pencroft had taken upon himself to conquer this difficulty, he
was compelled to do it. The settlers certainly had reason to be pretty
tired. The journey had been long, and the task of getting down the
balloon had not rested either their arms or legs. They were anxious
to reach Granite House to eat and sleep, and if the bridge had been
constructed, in a quarter of an hour they would have been at home.

The night was very dark. Pencroft prepared to keep his promise by
constructing a sort of raft, on which to make the passage of the Mercy.
He and Neb, armed with axes, chose two trees near the water, and began
to attack them at the base.

Cyrus Harding and Spilett, seated on the bank, waited till their
companions were ready for their help, while Herbert roamed about, though
without going to any distance. All at once, the lad, who had strolled by
the river, came running back, and, pointing up the Mercy, exclaimed,--

"What is floating there?"

Pencroft stopped working, and seeing an indistinct object moving through
the gloom,--

"A canoe!" cried he.

All approached, and saw to their extreme surprise, a boat floating down
the current.

"Boat ahoy!" shouted the sailor, without thinking that perhaps it would
be best to keep silence.

No reply. The boat still drifted onward, and it was not more than twelve
feet off, when the sailor exclaimed,--

"But it is our own boat! she has broken her moorings, and floated down
the current. I must say she has arrived very opportunely."

"Our boat?" murmured the en