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.