“No—no one!” replied Smith. And a moment or two later, being alone with Spilett, the engineer whispered to him:— “If there is anything sure in this world, Spilett, it is that I never lit a fire on that night, either on the plateau or anywhere else!” CHAPTER XLII. NIGHT AT SEA—SHARK GULF—CONFIDENCES—PREPARATIONS FOR WINTER—EARLY ADVENT OF BAD WEATHER—COLD—IN-DOOR WORK—SIX MONTHS LATER—A SPECK ON THE PHOTOGRAPH—AN UNEXPECTED EVENT. The sailor’s predictions were well founded. The breeze changed to a strong blow such as would hare caused a ship in the open sea to have lowered her topmasts and sailed under close reefs. The sloop was opposite the gulf at 6 o’clock, but the tide was running out, so all that Pencroff could do was to bend the jib down to the mainmast as a stay-sail and lie to with the bows of the Good Luck pointing on shore. Fortunately, although the wind was strong, the ocean, protected by the coast, was not very rough, and there was no danger from heavy seas, which would have tried the staunchness of the little craft. Pencroff, although he had every confidence in his boat, waited anxiously for daylight. During the night Smith and Spilett had not another opportunity to talk alone, although the whispered words of the engineer made the reporter anxious to discuss with him again the mysterious influence which seemed to pervade Lincoln Island. Spilett could not rid himself of the thought of this new and inexplicable incident. He and his companions also had certainly seen this light, and yet Smith declared that he knew nothing about it. He determined to return to this subject as soon as they returned home, and to urge Smith to inform their companions of these strange events. Perhaps, then, they would decide to make, altogether, a thorough search into every part of the island. Whatever it was, no light appeared upon these unknown shores during this night, and at daylight the wind, which had moderated somewhat, shifted a couple of points, and permitted Pencroff to enter the gulf without difficulty. About 7 o’clock the Good Luck passed into these waters enclosed in a grotesque frame of lava. “Here,” said Pencroff, “is a fine roadstead, where fleets could ride at ease.” “It is curious,” remarked Smith, “that this gulf has been formed by two successive streams of lava, completely enclosing its waters; and it is probable that, in the worst weather, the sea here is perfectly calm.” “It is a little too large for the Good Luck,” remarked the reporter. “I admit that,” replied the sailor, “but if the navy of the United States needed a shelter in the Pacific, I don’t think they could find a better roadstead than this!” “We are in the shark’s jaws,” said Neb, alluding to the form of the gulf. “We are, indeed,” replied Herbert; “but, Neb, you are not afraid that they will close on us?” “No, sir, not that; and yet I don’t like the looks of the place. It has a wicked aspect.”