What was going on in their country? Their fatherland was always present to their eyes, that land which, when they left it, was torn by civil strife, which perhaps was still red with rebellious blood. It was a great grief to them, this war, and they often talked about it, never doubting, however, that the cause of the North would triumph for the honor of the American confederation. During these two years not a ship had been seen. It was evident that Lincoln Island was out of the route of vessels; that it was unknown—the maps proved this—was evident, because, although it had no harbor, yet its streams would have drawn thither vessels desiring to renew their supply of water. But the surrounding sea was always desert, and the colonists could count on no outside help to bring them to their home. Nevertheless, one chance of rescue existed, which was discussed one day in the first week of April, when the colonists were gathered in the hall of Granite House. They had been talking of America and of the small hope of ever seeing it again. “Undoubtedly, there is but one way of leaving the island,” said Spilett, “which is, to build a vessel large enough to make a voyage of some hundreds of miles. It seems to me, that, when one can build a shallop, they can readily build a ship.” “And that they can as easily go to the Low Archipelago as to Tabor Island,” added Herbert. “I do not say we cannot,” replied Pencroff, who always had the most to say on questions of a maritime nature; “I do not say we cannot, although it is very different whether one goes far or near! If our sloop had been threatened with bad weather when we went to Tabor Island, we knew that a shelter was not far off in either direction; but 1,200 miles to travel is a long bit of road, and the nearest land is at least that distance!” “Do you mean, supposing the case to occur, Pencroff, that you would not risk it?” questioned the reporter. “I would undertake whatever you wished, sir,” replied the sailor, “and you know I am not the man to draw back.” “Remember, moreover, that we have another sailor with us, now,” said Neb. “Who do you mean,” asked Pencroff. “Ayrton.” “That is true,” responded Herbert. “If he would join us,” remarked Pencroff. “Why,” said the reporter, “do you think that if Lord Glenarvan’s yacht had arrived at Tabor Island while Ayrton was living there, that he would have refused to leave?” “You forget, my friends,” said Smith, “that Ayrton was not himself during the last few years there. But that is not the question. It is important to know whether we can count on the return of this Scotch vessel as among our chances for rescue. Now, Lord Glenarvan promised Ayrton that he would return to Tabor Island, when he judged his crimes sufficiently punished, and I believe that he will return. “Yes,” said the reporter, “and, moreover, I think he will return soon, as already Ayrton has been here twelve years!”