Chapter 39

CHAPTER 17

These last words justified the colonists' presentiment. There had been some
mournful past, perhaps expiated in the sight of men, but from which his
conscience had not yet absolved him. At any rate the guilty man felt
remorse, he repented, and his new friends would have cordially pressed the
hand which they sought; but he did not feel himself worthy to extend it to
honest men! However, alter the scene with the jaguar, he did not return to
the forest, and from that day did not go beyond the enclosure of Granite
House.

What was the mystery 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 of 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