At half-past ten everybody was on board, even Top and Jup, and Herbert weighed the anchor, which was fast in the sand near the mouth of the Mercy. The sail was hoisted, the Lincolnian flag floated from the masthead, and the “Bonadventure,” steered by Pencroft, stood out to sea. The wind blowing out of Union Bay she ran before it, and thus showed her owners, much to their satisfaction, that she possessed a remarkably fast pair of heels, according to Pencroft’s mode of speaking. After having doubled Flotsam Point and Claw Cape, the captain kept her close hauled, so as to sail along the southern coast of the island, when it was found she sailed admirably within five points of the wind. All hands were enchanted, they had a good vessel, which, in case of need, would be of great service to them, and with fine weather and a fresh breeze the voyage promised to be charming. Pencroft now stood off the shore, three or four miles across from Port Balloon. The island then appeared in all its extent and under a new aspect, with the varied panorama of its shore from Claw Cape to Reptile End, the forests in which dark firs contrasted with the young foliage of other trees and overlooked the whole, and Mount Franklin whose lofty head was still whitened with snow. “How beautiful it is!” cried Herbert. “Yes, our island is beautiful and good,” replied Pencroft. “I love it as I loved my poor mother. It received us poor and destitute, and now what is wanting to us five fellows who fell on it from the sky?” “Nothing,” replied Neb; “nothing, captain.” And the two brave men gave three tremendous cheers in honor of their island! During all this time Gideon Spilett, leaning against the mast, sketched the panorama which was developed before his eyes. Cyrus Harding gazed on it in silence. “Well, Captain Harding,” asked Pencroft, “what do you think of our vessel?” “She appears to behave well,” replied the engineer. “Good! And do you think now that she could undertake a voyage of some extent?” “What voyage, Pencroft?” “One to Tabor Island, for instance.” “My friend,” replied Harding, “I think that in any pressing emergency we need not hesitate to trust ourselves to the ‘Bonadventure’ even for a longer voyage; but you know I should see you set off to Tabor Island with great uneasiness, since nothing obliges you to go there.” “One likes to know one’s neighbors,” returned the sailor, who was obstinate in his idea. “Tabor Island is our neighbor, and the only one! Politeness requires us to go at least to pay a visit.” “By Jove,” said Spilett, “our friend Pencroft has become very particular about the proprieties all at once!” “I am not particular about anything at all,” retorted the sailor, who was rather vexed by the engineer’s opposition, but who did not wish to cause him anxiety. “Consider, Pencroft,” resumed Harding, “you cannot go alone to Tabor Island.” “One companion will be enough for me.”