Chapter 62 - Page 2

said Neb.

During the five ensuing days Cyrus Harding and his unfortunate companions
husbanded their provisions with the most extreme care, eating only what
would prevent them from dying of starvation. Their weakness was extreme.
Herbert and Neb began to show symptoms of delirium.

Under these circumstances was it possible for them to retain even the
shadow of a hope? No! What was their sole remaining chance? That a vessel
should appear in sight of the rock? But they knew only too well from
experience that no ships ever visited this part of the Pacific. Could they
calculate that, by a truly providential coincidence, the Scotch yacht would
arrive precisely at this time in search of Ayrton at Tabor Island? It was
scarcely probable; and, besides, supposing she should come there, as the
colonists had not been able to deposit a notice pointing out Ayrton's
change of abode, the commander of the yacht, after having explored Tabor
Island without results, would again set sail and return to lower latitudes.

No! no hope of being saved could be retained, and a horrible death, death
from hunger and thirst, awaited them upon this rock.

Already they were stretched on the rock, inanimate, and no longer
conscious of what passed around them. Ayrton alone, by a supreme effort,
from time to time raised his head, and cast a despairing glance over the
desert ocean.

But on the morning of the 24th of March Ayrton's arms were extended
toward a point in the horizon; he raised himself, at first on his knees,
then upright, and his hand seemed to make a signal.

A sail was in sight off the rock. She was evidently not without an
object. The reef was the mark for which she was making in a direct line,
under all steam, and the unfortunate colonists might have made her out some
hours before if they had had the strength to watch the horizon.

"The 'Duncan'!" murmured Ayrton--and fell back without sign of life.

When Cyrus Harding and his companions recovered consciousness, thanks to
the attention lavished upon them, they found themselves in the cabin of a
steamer, without being able to comprehend how they had escaped death.

A word from Ayrton explained everything.

"The 'Duncan'!" he murmured.

"The 'Duncan'!" exclaimed Cyrus Harding. And raising his hand to Heaven,
he said, "Oh! Almighty God! mercifully hast Thou preserved us!"

It was, in fact, the "Duncan," Lord Glenarvan's yacht, now commanded by
Robert, son of Captain Grant, who had been despatched to Tabor Island to
find Ayrton, and bring him back to his native land alter twelve years of
expiation.

The colonists were not only saved, but already on the way to their native
country.

"Captain Grant," asked Cyrus Harding,