“Let us go the weir!” exclaimed Pencroff. “We will have to,” said the engineer. “Nevertheless it would have been preferable—” And at the instant, as if in answer to the observation of the engineer, they saw the ladder slide over the door-sill and roll over to the ground. “By the thousand pipes, but that is lucky!” cried Pencroff, looking at Smith. “Too lucky!” muttered Smith, springing up the ladder. “Take care, Mr. Smith!” exclaimed Pencroff, “if there should be any sojourners—” “We will soon see,” responded the other. All his companions followed him and in a moment were within the doorway. They searched everywhere. No one was in the chambers or in the storeroom, which remained undisturbed by the quadrumana. “And the ladder,” said Pencroff; “where is the gentleman who pushed it down to us?” But just then a cry was heard, and a huge monkey, that had taken refuge in the corridor, sprang into the great hall, followed by Neb. “Ah, the thief!” cried Pencroff, about to spring with his hatchet at the head of the animal, when Smith stopped him. “Spare it, Pencroff.” “What, spare this black ape?” “Yes, it is he that has thrown us the ladder,” said the engineer, in a voice so strange, that it was hard to say whether he was in earnest or not. Nevertheless, all threw themselves on the monkey, which, after a brave resistance, was thrown down and tied. “Ugh!” exclaimed Pencroff; “and now what will we do with it?” “Make a servant of it,” answered Herbert, half in earnest, as the lad knew how great was the intelligence of this race of quadrumana. The colonists gathered round the monkey and examined it attentively. It appeared to belong to that species of anthropomorphi in which the facial angle is not visibly inferior to that of the Australians or Hottentots. He was an orang of the kind which has neither the ferocity of the baboon nor the macauco, nor the thoughtlessness of the sagoin, nor the impatience of the magot, nor the bad instincts of the cynocephalous. It was of a family of anthropomorphi which has traits indicating a half-human intelligence. Employed in houses, they can wait on the table, do chamber-work, brush clothes, black boots, clean the knives and forks, and—empty the bottles, as well as the best trained flunkey. Buffon possessed one of these monkeys, which served him a long time as a zealous and faithful servant. The one at present tied in the hall of Granite House was a big fellow, six feet high, deep-chested, and finely built, a medium-sized head, with a sharp facial angle, a well-rounded skull, and a prominent nose, and a skin covered with smooth hair, soft and shining,—in short, a finished type of anthropomorphi. Its eyes, somewhat smaller than those of a human being, sparkled with intelligence; its teeth glistened beneath its moustache, and it wore a small nut-brown beard. “He is a fine chap,” said Pencroff. “If we only understood his language, one might talk with him!”