“Chance, Spilett! I do not believe in chance any more than I believe in mystery in this world. There is a cause for everything, however inexplicable, which has happened here, and I will discover it. But, while waiting, let us watch and work.” January arrived, and the year 1867 began. The works had been pushed forward vigorously. One day Herbert and Spilett, passing the corral, ascertained that Ayrton had taken possession of his abode. He occupied himself with the large herd confided to his care, and thus saved his companions the necessity of visiting it two or three times a week. Nevertheless, in order not to leave Ayrton too much alone, they frequently went there. It was just as well—owing to certain suspicions shared by Smith and Spilett—that this part of the island should be under a certain supervision, and Ayrton, if anything happened, would not fail to let the inhabitants of Granite House know of it. Possibly, some sudden event might happen, which it would be important to communicate to the engineer without delay. And, aside from whatever might be connected with the mystery of the island, other things, requiring the prompt intervention of the colonists, might occur, as, for example, the discovering of a ship in the offing and in sight of the west coast, a wreck on that shore, the possible arrival of pirates, etc. So Smith determined to place the corral in instant communication with Granite House. It was the 10th of January when he told his project to his companions. “How are you going to do such a thing as that, Mr. Smith?” asked Pencroff. “Maybe you propose to erect a telegraph!” “That is precisely what I propose to do.” “Electric?” exclaimed Herbert. “Electric,” responded Smith. “We have everything necessary for making a battery, and the most difficult part will be to make the wires, but I think we can succeed.” “Well, after this,” replied the sailor, “I expect some day to see us riding along on a railway!” They entered upon the work at once, beginning with the most difficult part, that is to say, the manufacture of the wires, since, if that failed, it would be useless to make the battery and other accessories. The iron of Lincoln Island was, as we know, of excellent quality, and, therefore, well adapted to the purpose. Smith began by making a steel plate, pierced with conical holes of different sizes, which would bring the wire to the desired size. This piece of steel, after having been tempered “through and through,” was fixed firmly to a solid frame-work sunk in the ground, only a few feet distant from the waterfall—the motive power which the engineer intended to use. And, indeed, there was the fulling-mill, not then in use, the main shaft of which turned with great force, and would serve to draw out the wire and roll it around itself.