“But our plantations, our poultry-yard, our corral,—in short everything,” cried Pencroff, stamping his foot. “They can destroy everything in a few hours.” “Everything, Pencroff!” answered Smith, “and we have no means of preventing them?” “Are there many of them?” said the reporter. “That’s the question. If there are only a dozen, we can stop them, but forty, or fifty, or more—” “Mr. Smith,” said Ayrton, coming up to the engineer, “will you grant me one request!” “What, my friend?” “To go to the ship, and ascertain how strongly she is manned.” “But, Ayrton,” said the engineer, hesitating, “your life will be in danger.” “And why not, sir?” “That is more than your duty.” “I must do more than my duty,” replied Ayrton. “You mean to go to the ship in the canoe?” asked Spilett. “No, sir. I will swim to her. A man can slip in where a boat could not pass.” “Do you know that the brig is a mile and a half from the coast?” said Herbert.” “I am a good swimmer, sir.” “I repeat to you that you are risking your life,” resumed the engineer. “No matter,” answered Ayrton—”Mr. Smith, I ask it as a favor. It may raise me in my own estimation.” “Go, Ayrton,” said the engineer, who knew how deeply a refusal would affect the ex-convict, now become an honest man. “I will go with you,” said Pencroff. “You distrust me!” said Ayrton, quickly. Then, he added, more humbly, “and it is just.” “No, no!” cried Smith, eagerly, “Pencroff has no such feeling. You have misunderstood him.” “Just so,” answered the sailor; “I am proposing to Ayrton to accompany him only as far as the islet. One of these rascals may possibly have gone on shore there, and if so, it will take two men to prevent him from giving the alarm. I will wait for Ayrton on the islet.” Everything thus arranged, Ayrton got ready for departure. His project was bold but not impracticable, thanks to the dark night. Once having reached the ship, Ayrton, by clinging to the chains of the shrouds, might ascertain the number and perhaps the designs of the convicts. They walked down upon the beach. Ayrton stripped himself and rubbed himself with grease, the better to endure the chill of the water; for he might have to be in it several hours. Meanwhile Pencroff and Neb had gone after the canoe, fastened on the bank of the Mercy some hundreds of paces further up. When they came back, Ayrton was ready to start. They threw a wrap over his shoulders, and shook hands with him all round. Then he got into the boat with Pencroff, and pushed off into the darkness. It was now half-past 10, and their companions went back to wait for them at the Chimneys.