《The Mysterious Island 神秘岛》Book 1 Chapter 8（在线收听）

Neb did not move. Pencroft only uttered one word.

"Living?" he cried.

Neb did not reply. Spilett and the sailor turned pale. Herbert clasped his hands, and remained motionless. The poor Negro, absorbed in his grief, evidently had neither seen his companions nor heard the sailor speak.

The reporter knelt down beside the motionless body, and placed his ear to the engineer's chest, having first torn open his clothes.

A minute--an age!--passed, during which he endeavored to catch the faintest throb of the heart.

Neb had raised himself a little and gazed without seeing. Despair had completely changed his countenance. He could scarcely be recognized, exhausted with fatigue, broken with grief. He believed his master was dead.

Gideon Spilett at last rose, after a long and attentive examination.

"He lives!" said he.

Pencroft knelt in his turn beside the engineer, he also heard a throbbing, and even felt a slight breath on his cheek.

Herbert at a word from the reporter ran out to look for water. He found, a hundred feet off, a limpid stream, which seemed to have been greatly increased by the rains, and which filtered through the sand; but nothing in which to put the water, not even a shell among the downs. The lad was obliged to content himself with dipping his handkerchief in the stream, and with it hastened back to the grotto.

Happily the wet handkerchief was enough for Gideon Spilett, who only wished to wet the engineer's lips. The cold water produced an almost immediate effect. His chest heaved and he seemed to try to speak.

"We will save him!" exclaimed the reporter.

At these words hope revived in Neb's heart. He undressed his master to see if he was wounded, but not so much as a bruise was to be found, either on the head, body, or limbs, which was surprising, as he must have been dashed against the rocks; even the hands were uninjured, and it was difficult to explain how the engineer showed no traces of the efforts which he must have made to get out of reach of the breakers.

But the explanation would come later. When Cyrus was able to speak he would say what had happened. For the present the question was, how to recall him to life, and it appeared likely that rubbing would bring this about; so they set to work with the sailor's jersey.

The engineer, revived by this rude shampooing, moved his arm slightly and began to breathe more regularly. He was sinking from exhaustion, and certainly, had not the reporter and his companions arrived, it would have been all over with Cyrus Harding.

"You thought your master was dead, didn't you?" said the seaman to Neb.

"Yes! quite dead!" replied Neb, "and if Top had not found you, and brought you here, I should have buried my master, and then have lain down on his grave to die!"

It had indeed been a narrow escape for Cyrus Harding!

Neb then recounted what had happened. The day before, after having left the Chimneys at daybreak, he had ascended the coast in a northerly direction, and had reached that part of the shore which he had already visited.

There, without any hope he acknowledged, Neb had searched the beach, among the rocks, on the sand, for the smallest trace to guide him. He examined particularly that part of the beach which was not covered by the high tide, for near the sea the water would have obliterated all marks. Neb did not expect to find his master living. It was for a corpse that he searched, a corpse which he wished to bury with his own hands!

He sought long in vain. This desert coast appeared never to have been visited by a human creature. The shells, those which the sea had not reached, and which might be met with by millions above high-water mark, were untouched. Not a shell was broken.

Neb then resolved to walk along the beach for some miles. It was possible that the waves had carried the body to quite a distant point. When a corpse floats a little distance from a low shore, it rarely happens that the tide does not throw it up, sooner or later. This Neb knew, and he wished to see his master again for the last time.

"I went along the coast for another two miles, carefully examining the beach, both at high and low water, and I had despaired of finding anything, when yesterday, above five in the evening, I saw footprints on the sand."

"Footprints?" exclaimed Pencroft.

"Yes!" replied Neb.

"Did these footprints begin at the water's edge?" asked the reporter.

"No," replied Neb, "only above high-water mark, for the others must have been washed out by the tide."

"Go on, Neb," said Spilett.

"I went half crazy when I saw these footprints. They were very clear and went towards the downs. I followed them for a quarter of a mile, running, but taking care not to destroy them. Five minutes after, as it was getting dark, I heard the barking of a dog. It was Top, and Top brought me here, to my master!"

Neb ended his account by saying what had been his grief at finding the inanimate body, in which he vainly sought for the least sign of life. Now that he had found him dead he longed for him to be alive. All his efforts were useless! Nothing remained to be done but to render the last duties to the one whom he had loved so much! Neb then thought of his companions. They, no doubt, would wish to see the unfortunate man again. Top was there. Could he not rely on the sagacity of the faithful animal? Neb several times pronounced the name of the reporter, the one among his companions whom Top knew best.

Then he pointed to the south, and the dog bounded off in the direction indicated to him.

We have heard how, guided by an instinct which might be looked upon almost as supernatural, Top had found them.

Neb's companions had listened with great attention to this account.

It was unaccountable to them how Cyrus Harding, after the efforts which he must have made to escape from the waves by crossing the rocks, had not received even a scratch. And what could not be explained either was how the engineer had managed to get to this cave in the downs, more than a mile from the shore.

"So, Neb," said the reporter, "it was not you who brought your master to this place."

"No, it was not I," replied the Negro.

"It's very clear that the captain came here by himself," said Pencroft.

"It is clear in reality," observed Spilett, "but it is not credible!"

The explanation of this fact could only be produced from the engineer's own lips, and they must wait for that till speech returned. Rubbing had re-established the circulation of the blood. Cyrus Harding moved his arm again, then his head, and a few incomprehensible words escaped him.

Neb, who was bending over him, spoke, but the engineer did not appear to hear, and his eyes remained closed. Life was only exhibited in him by movement, his senses had not as yet been restored.

Pencroft much regretted not having either fire, or the means of procuring it, for he had, unfortunately, forgotten to bring the burnt linen, which would easily have ignited from the sparks produced by striking together two flints. As to the engineer's pockets, they were entirely empty, except that of his waistcoat, which contained his watch. It was necessary to carry Harding to the Chimneys, and that as soon as possible. This was the opinion of all.

Meanwhile, the care which was lavished on the engineer brought him back to consciousness sooner than they could have expected. The water with which they wetted his lips revived him gradually. Pencroft also thought of mixing with the water some moisture from the titra's flesh which he had brought. Herbert ran to the beach and returned with two large bivalve shells. The sailor concocted something which he introduced between the lips of the engineer, who eagerly drinking it opened his eyes.

Neb and the reporter were leaning over him.

"My master! my master!" cried Neb.

The engineer heard him. He recognized Neb and Spilett, then his other two companions, and his hand slightly pressed theirs.

A few words again escaped him, which showed what thoughts were, even then, troubling his brain. This time he was understood. Undoubtedly they were the same words he had before attempted to utter.

"Island or continent?" he murmured.

"Bother the continent," cried Pencroft hastily; "there is time enough to see about that, captain! we don't care for anything, provided you are living."

The engineer nodded faintly, and then appeased to sleep.

They respected this sleep, and the reporter began immediately to make arrangements for transporting Harding to a more comfortable place. Neb, Herbert, and Pencroft left the cave and directed their steps towards a high mound crowned with a few distorted trees. On the way the sailor could not help repeating,--

"Island or continent! To think of that, when at one's last gasp! What a man!"

Arrived at the summit of the mound, Pencroft and his two companions set to work, with no other tools than their hands, to despoil of its principal branches a rather sickly tree, a sort of marine fir; with these branches they made a litter, on which, covered with grass and leaves, they could carry the engineer.

This occupied them nearly forty minutes, and it was ten o'clock when they returned to Cyrus Harding whom Spilett had not left.

The engineer was just awaking from the sleep, or rather from the drowsiness, in which they had found him. The color was returning to his cheeks, which till now had been as pale as death. He raised himself a little, looked around him, and appeared to ask where he was.

"Can you listen to me without fatigue, Cyrus?" asked the reporter.

"Yes," replied the engineer.

"It's my opinion," said the sailor, "that Captain Harding will be able to listen to you still better, if he will have some more grouse jelly,--for we have grouse, captain," added he, presenting him with a little of this jelly, to which he this time added some of the flesh.

Cyrus Harding ate a little of the grouse, and the rest was divided among his companions, who found it but a meager breakfast, for they were suffering extremely from hunger.

"Well!" said the sailor, "there is plenty of food at the Chimneys, for you must know, captain, that down there, in the south, we have a house, with rooms, beds, and fireplace, and in the pantry, several dozen of birds, which our Herbert calls couroucous. Your litter is ready, and as soon as you feel strong enough we will carry you home."

"Thanks, my friend," replied the engineer; "wait another hour or two, and then we will set out. And now speak, Spilett."

The reporter then told him all that had occurred. He recounted all the events with which Cyrus was unacquainted, the last fall of the balloon, the landing on this unknown land, which appeared a desert (whatever it was, whether island or continent), the discovery of the Chimneys, the search for him, not forgetting of course Neb's devotion, the intelligence exhibited by the faithful Top, as well as many other matters.

"But," asked Harding, in a still feeble voice, "you did not, then, pick me up on the beach?"

"No," replied the reporter.

"And did you not bring me to this cave?"

"No."

"At what distance is this cave from the sea?"

"About a mile," replied Pencroft; "and if you are astonished, captain, we are not less surprised ourselves at seeing you in this place!"

"Indeed," said the engineer, who was recovering gradually, and who took great interest in these details, "indeed it is very singular!"

"But," resumed the sailor, "can you tell us what happened after you were carried off by the sea?"

Cyrus Harding considered. He knew very little. The wave had torn him from the balloon net. He sank at first several fathoms. On returning to the surface, in the half light, he felt a living creature struggling near him. It was Top, who had sprung to his help. He saw nothing of the balloon, which, lightened both of his weight and that of the dog, had darted away like an arrow.

There he was, in the midst of the angry sea, at a distance which could not be less than half a mile from the shore. He attempted to struggle against the billows by swimming vigorously. Top held him up by his clothes; but a strong current seized him and drove him towards the north, and after half an hour of exertion, he sank, dragging Top with him into the depths. From that moment to the moment in which he recovered to find himself in the arms of his friends he remembered nothing.

"However," remarked Pencroft, "you must have been thrown on to the beach, and you must have had strength to walk here, since Neb found your footmarks!"

"Yes... of course replied the engineer, thoughtfully; "and you found no traces of human beings on this coast?"

"Not a trace," replied the reporter; "besides, if by chance you had met with some deliverer there, just in the nick of time, why should he have abandoned you after having saved you from the waves?"

"You are right, my dear Spilett. Tell me, Neb," added the engineer, turning to his servant, "it was not you who... you can't have had a moment of unconsciousness... during which no, that's absurd.... Do any of the footsteps still remain?" asked Harding.

"Yes, master, replied Neb; "here, at the entrance, at the back of the mound, in a place sheltered from the rain and wind. The storm has destroyed the others."

"Pencroft," said Cyrus Harding, "will you take my shoe and see if it fits exactly to the footprints?"

The sailor did as the engineer requested. While he and Herbert, guided by Neb, went to the place where the footprints were to be found, Cyrus remarked to the reporter,--

"It is a most extraordinary thing!"

"Perfectly inexplicable!" replied Gideon Spilett.

"But do not dwell upon it just now, my dear Spilett, we will talk about it by-and-by."

A moment after the others entered.

There was no doubt about it. The engineer's shoe fitted exactly to the footmarks. It was therefore Cyrus Harding who had left them on the sand.

"Come," said he, "I must have experienced this unconsciousness which I attributed to Neb. I must have walked like a somnambulist, without any knowledge of my steps, and Top must have guided me here, after having dragged me from the waves... Come, Top! Come, old dog!"

The magnificent animal bounded barking to his master, and caresses were lavished on him. It was agreed that there was no other way of accounting for the rescue of Cyrus Harding, and that Top deserved all the honor of the affair.

Towards twelve o'clock, Pencroft having asked the engineer if they could now remove him, Harding, instead of replying, and by an effort which exhibited the most energetic will, got up. But he was obliged to lean on the sailor, or he would have fallen.

"Well done!" cried Pencroft; "bring the captain's litter."

The litter was brought; the transverse branches had been covered with leaves and long grass. Harding was laid on it, and Pencroft, having taken his place at one end and Neb at the other, they started towards the coast. There was a distance of eight miles to be accomplished; but, as they could not go fast, and it would perhaps be necessary to stop frequently, they reckoned that it would take at least six hours to reach the Chimneys. The wind was still strong, but fortunately it did not rain. Although lying down, the engineer, leaning on his elbow, observed the coast, particularly inland. He did not speak, but he gazed; and, no doubt, the appearance of the country, with its inequalities of ground, its forests, its various productions, were impressed on his mind. However, after traveling for two hours, fatigue overcame him, and he slept.

At half-past five the little band arrived at the precipice, and a short time after at the Chimneys.

They stopped, and the litter was placed on the sand; Cyrus Harding was sleeping profoundly, and did not awake.

Pencroft, to his extreme surprise, found that the terrible storm had quite altered the aspect of the place. Important changes had occurred; great blocks of stone lay on the beach, which was also covered with a thick carpet of sea-weed, algae, and wrack. Evidently the sea, passing over the islet, had been carried right up to the foot of the enormous curtain of granite. The soil in front of the cave had been torn away by the violence of the waves. A horrid presentiment flashed across Pencroft's mind. He rushed into the passage, but returned almost immediately, and stood motionless, staring at his companions.... The fire was out; the drowned cinders were nothing but mud; the burnt linen, which was to have served as tinder, had disappeared! The sea had penetrated to the end of the passages, and everything was overthrown and destroyed in the interior of the Chimneys!

纳布一动也不动，潘克洛夫只问了一句：

“还活着吗？”

纳布没有回答，史佩莱和水手的脸色都变了。赫伯特紧握着双手，呆呆地站在那里。可怜的黑人由于伤心过度，显然既没有看见他的伙伴，又没有听见水手的话。

通讯记者跪到赛勒斯·史密斯僵卧着的身体旁边，解开他的衣服，然后把耳朵凑在他的胸前。

一分钟就好比一世纪那么长！好容易一分钟过去了，这时，他努力倾听着极其微弱的心脏跳动声。

纳布微微挺直了身子，两眼发直，却什么也没有看见。由于悲伤过度，他的面容已经完全改变了，人们几乎已认不出他了。他以为他的主人已经死了。

经过很长时间的仔细检查以后，吉丁·史佩莱终于站起身来。

“还活着呢！”他说。

潘克洛夫紧跟着也跪到工程师的旁边来，他也听到一阵心跳声，甚至唇边还觉得出有一丝呼吸。

赫伯特一听见通讯记者的话就出去找水。他在一百英尺以外发现一条清澈的小溪，大概是由于下雨的缘故，水上涨了，溪里的沙粒把流水滤得非常干净。但是赫伯特找不到盛水的器具，沙丘上连一枚贝壳也没有。少年想不出什么办法，只好把他的手帕浸在小溪里，然后急急忙忙地跑回山洞去。

幸亏湿手帕足够吉丁·史佩莱应用的了，他只想使工程师的嘴唇湿润一下，冷水几乎立刻发生了奇效。史密斯的胸部吐出一口气，似乎想说话。

“我们一定要救活他！”通讯记者大声说。

纳布听了这话，又产生了一线希望，他解开主人的衣服，查看他受伤没有；他的头上、身上和四肢一点伤痕也没有，这的确令人奇怪。原来认为他一定是摔在乱石丛中，然后才挣扎到波浪达不到的地方，但是居然不留任何痕迹，甚至连手上都没有伤，这是道理上说不过去的。

不过他们不久就可以得到解答。等到赛勒斯能够说话的时候，他就会把经过谈出来了。目前的问题是怎样把他救醒过来，看样子用按摩的方法可以达到这个目的，于是他们就用水手的绒衣进行按摩。

经过一阵剧烈的按摩，工程师苏醒过来了，他微微动了动胳膊，呼吸也逐渐正常起来。他由于精力耗尽而陷于瘫痪状态，肯定他说，假如不是通讯记者和他的伙伴们及时赶来的话，赛勒斯·史密斯就不可能活过来了。

“你以为你的主人死了，是吗？”水手对纳布说。

“是的，我认为是死了！”纳布答道，“要不是托普找到你们，把你们领到这儿来，我就要把主人埋起来，然后死在他的坟上了！”

赛勒斯·史密斯真是死里逃生！

于是纳布叙述了经过的情况。前一天黎明的时候，他就离开了“石窟”，爬上海滨高处往北走去，一直走到他曾经去过的那一带海岸。

纳布并没有对那里抱什么希望，他在海岸上、岩石里和沙滩上寻找，只不过想得到哪怕是一点线索，他特别注意潮水冲不到的海滩，因为靠海的一带潮水是会把所有的痕迹都冲刷掉的。纳布并没想把他活着的主人找回来。他只想找到主人的遗骸，能够亲手埋葬他！

他找了很久还是没有结果。这片荒凉的海岸上好象从来也不曾有过人迹。成千上万的贝壳散布在海水冲不到的满潮线上，没有一个看来象有人碰过，个个都是完整的。

于是纳布决定沿着海滨再走几英里。可能海水把尸体冲到相当远的地方去了。一般说来，如果海岸是较低的，而尸体就在不远的海面漂浮的话，那是迟早总会被潮水抛到岸上来的。纳布知道这一点，他想和他的主人见最后的一面。

“我又沿着海滨走了两英里，不论是水浅处的岩礁还是水高处的沙岸，我都仔细地观察了。最后我认为不可能找到什么东西，已经绝望了，可是就在昨天傍晚大约五点钟的时候，我在沙滩上发现许多脚印。”

“脚印？”潘克洛夫喊道。

“是的！”纳布说。

“这些脚印是从水边开始的吗？”通讯记者问道。

“不，”纳布说，“全在满潮线上，其他的一定都被潮水冲掉了。”

“说下去吧，纳布。”史佩莱说。

“我一看见这些脚印简直快乐疯了。脚印非常清楚，一直通到沙丘上去。我跟了四分之一英里，一面跑，一面注意不把它们踩掉。五分钟以后，天渐渐地黑了，我听见狗叫的声音。那就是托普，它一直把我带到这儿，带到主人的身边来！”

纳布最后谈到当他发现这个毫无生气的躯体时心里是多么悲伤，他看来看去也看不出一点活着的样子，起初只想找到主人的尸体，可是等到找着以后，他就进一步希望他活了。但是他费尽了力气也没有用！他没有别的办法，只好对这个最心爱的人尽自己最后的一次责任了！这时纳布想到他的伙伴们。毫无疑问，他们一定也希望再看一眼这个不幸的人。当时托普正在那里，难道他信不过这个忠实畜生的智慧吗？当然不，纳布一再重复着通讯记者的名字——在伙伴们之中，这个名字是托普最熟悉的——然后他指着南方，于是托普就朝着他指的方向跑去了。

托普依靠它那近乎神奇的直觉终于找到了它从来没有到过的“石窟”，找着了他们。

纳布的伙伴们聚精会神地听完了这段经过。

赛勒斯·史密斯一定是跨过重重的岩石，经过一番努力才从海里逃上岸来的，然而他身上却一点伤也没有，这一点他们实在不明白。工程师究竟用什么方法走完这一英里多的路，从海滨来到沙丘的这个山洞里，这一点就更没法解释。

“照这么说，纳布，”通讯记者说，“不是你把他带到这儿来的了？”

“不，不是我。”黑人答道。

“很明显，是他自己到这儿来的。”潘克洛夫说。

“事实固然很明显，”史佩莱说，“但这实在令人难以相信！”

这件事只好等工程师亲自解释了，他们必须等到他能够说话。经过按摩，血液流通了。赛勒斯·史密斯的胳膊又动了一下，接着又动了动头，然后他说了几个字；但是谁也听不清他在说些什么。

纳布弓着身子叫唤工程师，可是工程师好象没有听见，他的眼睛依然紧闭着。只有从他的动作上才看得出他还活着，他还没有完全恢复知觉。

潘克洛夫感到遗憾的是：既没有火，又没有取火的东西，他不幸忘记把焦布带在身上了，要不然用两块火石砸出火星来，就很容易把焦布点着。工程师的口袋里什么也没有，只有坎肩口袋里有一只怀表。现在必须赶快把史密斯抬回“石窟”去，这一点大家的意见完全一致。

在他们大力照护下，工程师开始恢复知觉了，他们都没有想到会这么快。用来湿润嘴唇的水使他逐渐苏醒过来。潘克洛夫想起带在身上的松鸡，他想把鸡肉汁加在水里做饮科。赫伯特还跑到海边去，带了两只大蚌回来。水手调制好饮料以后送到工程师嘴里去，工程师一面贪婪地喝着，一面睁开了眼睛。

纳布和通讯记者正俯伏在他身上。

“主人！主人！”纳布喊道。

工程师听见了，他首先认出纳布和史佩莱，然后认出其余两个伙伴，他无力地握了握他们的手。

他又说了几个字，可以看出即使在这个时候，他的脑子里也在考虑问题。这次大家听懂了。刚才他打算说的无疑也是这句话。

“荒岛还是大陆？”他喃喃地说。

“管他什么大陆荒岛呢？”潘克洛夫情不自禁地喊道，“有的是时间去看，只要你活着，我们什么都不在乎。”

工程师无力地点点头，然后好象睡着了。

他们没有打扰他的睡眠，通讯记者准备马上把史密斯抬到一个比较舒适的地方去。纳布、赫伯特和潘克洛夫离开山洞，向着一座耸立的小山跑去，小山顶上有几棵东倒西歪的树。一路上水手不由地重复着说：

“‘荒岛还是大陆？’只剩了一口气还在想这个，多么了不起的人啊！”

潘克洛夫和他的两个伙伴爬上小山以后就开始工作了，他们什么工具也没有，只好赤手空拳去扳一棵树的粗枝。这是一棵类似海枞的树，已经相当干枯了，他们打算用这些枝干做担架，上面铺上野草和树叶来抬工程师。

他们一共用了将近四十分钟的时间才把担架做好，在这期间，史佩莱始终没有离开工程师，当他们回来的时候，已经是上午十点钟了。

他们回到洞里发现工程师刚从梦中（或是昏睡状态中）醒来。他的脸色始终象死人那样苍白，直到这时候才逐渐正常。他稍微抬起身来，看看周围，仿佛想知道自己是在什么地方。

“你听我说话不觉得累吗，赛勒斯？”通讯记者问道。

“不累。”工程师说。

“我认为，”水手说，“如果史密斯先生再吃些松鸡冻，那么听起来一定会更省力的。史密斯先生，我们这儿有松鸡。”他一面说，一面把一些肉冻给史密斯吃，他还加了一些肉在里面。

赛勒斯·史密斯只吃了一点松鸡，剩下来的都由伙伴们分着吃了。他们正饿得厉害，这顿早饭对他们说起来未免太少。

“对啦！”水手说，“‘石窟’里有的是吃的东西，你知道，史密斯先生，从这儿出去一直往南，我们有一所房子，里面有房间，有床铺，还生着火，伙食房里有好几打鸟，我们的赫伯特管它们叫什么锦鸡。担架已经给你准备好了，只等你恢复了气力，我们就把你抬回家去。”

“谢谢你，我的朋友，”工程师答道，“再等一两个钟头就走。现在你谈吧，史佩莱。”

于是通讯记者把他们的经历讲了一遍：气球怎样最后一次下坠掉在这沙漠似的陌生土地上（且不管它是荒岛还是大陆）；怎样发现了“石窟”，怎样寻找他，当然也忘不了纳布的一片至诚，忠心的托普的智慧以及其他许多事情。凡是史密斯不知道的他全谈出来了。

“那么，”史密斯用微弱的声音问道，“你们不是在沙滩上把我救起来的吗？”

“没有。”通讯记者答道。

“不是你们把我带到这个洞里来的吗？”

“不是。”

“这个山洞离海有多远？”

“大约半英里，”潘克洛夫答道，“你感到奇怪吗，史密斯先生，我们看见你在这儿才感到奇怪呢！”

“的确，”工程师说，这时候他渐渐复原了，他对这些事情极感兴趣，“真是太奇怪了！”

“可是，”水手接着说，“你能告诉我们你掉在海里以后的情况吗？”

赛勒斯·史密斯沉思起来。他知道得很少。波浪把他从气球网上卷到海里。他起初下沉了几寻深。在往水面上升的时候，他朦朦胧胧觉得有一个活的东西在他身旁挣扎。那就是托普，它是从气球上跳下来救他的。当时气球已经不知去向。因为减少了他和狗的重量，气球就箭也似的飞了上去了。

他就这样掉在这怒潮澎湃的海洋里，这里离海岸至少有半英里。他拼命游泳，打算和波涛作一番斗争。托普咬住他的衣服，使他浮在水面上。但是一股激流向他冲来，把他一直带到北面去，他挣扎了半个钟头以后，就跟托普一起下沉到很深的地方去了。从那时候起，一直到他在朋友的怀抱中醒来，他什么也记不清了。

“不管怎么样，”潘克洛夫说，“你一定是被海水冲上岸的，然后才鼓起余力走到这儿来，因为纳布找到了你的脚印！”

“是的……当然……”工程师若有所思地答道，“你们在海滨上没有发现人迹吗？”

“一点影子也没有，”通讯记者说，“再说，假如真有人在紧要关头碰巧把你救了起来，那么离了大海以后，为什么又把你扔下来呢？”

“你说得对，亲爱的史佩莱。告诉我，纳布，”工程师转过头来对他的仆人说，“不是你……你不会一时失去了知觉……那时候……不，那太离奇了……现在还有脚印留在那里吗？”史密斯问道。

“有的，主人，”纳布说，“这儿，在入口的地方，在小山背后，风雨打不到的地方还有。其余的都被暴风雨冲掉了。”

“潘克洛夫，”赛勒斯·史密斯说，”请你把我的鞋子拿去比量比量，看看究竟是不是我的脚印，好吗？”

水手按照工程师的话去做了。当纳布带领着他和赫伯特去找脚印的时候，赛勒斯对通讯记者说：

“这件事真是太奇怪了！”

“简直没法理解！”吉丁·史佩莱说。

“现在先别考虑了，亲爱的史佩莱，我们将来再谈吧。”

不一会，纳布和赫伯特进来了。

毫无疑问，工程师的鞋子和脚印完全符合。因此沙滩上的脚印肯定是赛勒斯·史密斯留下的。

“好吧，”他说，“刚才我认为是纳布失去了知觉，照这么说一定是我自己了。我一定象害了梦游病似的，迷迷糊糊地走着，一定是托普把我从海里拖上来，然后把我引到这儿来的……过来，托普！过来，我的狗！”

这头美丽的畜生一面叫，一面跳到它主人的身边来，史密斯尽情地抚摩了它一阵。大家都认为再也没有别的理由可以解释赛勒斯·史密斯的得救了。这件事应该完全归功于托普。

将近十二点钟的时候，潘克洛夫问工程师，他们现在能不能抬他。史密斯没有回答，他表现了坚强的意志，居然努力站起身来。但是他不得不靠在水手身上，要不然他就要跌倒了。

“好！”潘克洛夫说，“把担架抬来。”

担架抬来了，交叉的枝干上铺着野草和树叶。史密斯躺在上面，潘克洛夫和纳布各抬着一头，于是他们就向海滨出发了。这一段距离有八英里。因为他们不能走得很快，而且还要不断地停歇，他们估计至少要六个钟头才能到达“石窟”。风还是很大，幸亏这时候已经不下雨了。工程师躺在担架上，还是用胳膊支持着身子，观察着海岸，特别是内陆。他没有说话，只是睁大两眼看周围的景物，高低不平的地势以及森林和各种物产无疑都在他的脑海里留下了印象，可是走了两个钟头以后，他就感到疲倦而睡着了。

五点半钟的时候，他们经过悬崖下，不久就回到“石窟”了。

他们停了下来，把担架放在沙地上，赛勒斯·史密斯在酣睡中还没有醒来。

可怕的暴风雨使这里的面貌大大改变了。潘克洛夫不由得吃了一惊。这里发生了巨大的变化：海滩上添了很多大石块。上面覆盖着一层厚厚的水草、海藻和其他漂上岸来的水生植物。漫过小岛的海水显然曾经一直冲到巨大的花岗石壁底下。石穴前的泥土已经被汹涌的海浪冲去了。潘克洛夫的脑子里忽然闪过一个可怕的念头。他急忙冲到通道里去，可是几乎马上就回来了。他呆呆地站在那里，眼睛盯着他的伙伴们……火灭了，灰烬被水泡成一滩泥，留着代替火绒的焦布也不见了！海水一直灌到通道的最里面，“石窟”里所有的东西都被冲倒被破坏了！