Meanwhile, after nothing of the brig had been left but a useless shell, the bad weather came to finish its destruction. Smith had intended to blow it up, so as to collect the debris on shore, but a strong northeast wind and a high sea saved his powder for him. On the night of the 23d, the hull was thoroughly broken up, and part of the wreck stranded on the beach. As to the ship’s papers, it is needless to say, although they carefully rummaged the closet in the poop, Smith found no trace of them. The pirates had evidently destroyed all that concerned either the captain or the owner of the Speedy, and as the name of its port was not painted on the stern, there was nothing to betray its nationality. However, from the shape of the bow, Ayrton and Pencroff believed the brig to be of English construction. A week after the ship went down, not a trace of her was to be seen even at low tide. The wreck had gone to pieces, and Granite House had been enriched with almost all its contents. But the mystery of its strange destruction would never have been cleared up, if Neb, rambling along the beach, had not come upon a piece of a thick iron cylinder, which bore traces of an explosion. It was twisted and torn at the edge, as if it had been submitted to the action of an explosive substance. Neb took it to his master, who was busy with his companions in the workshop at the Chimneys. Smith examined it carefully, and then turned to Pencroff. “Do you still maintain, my friend,” said he, “that the Speedy did not perish by a collision?” “Yes, Mr. Smith,” replied the sailor, “you know as well as I that there are no rocks in the channel.” “But suppose it struck against this piece of iron?” said the engineer, showing the broken cylinder. “What, that pipe stem!” said Pencroff, incredulously. “Do you remember, my friends,” continued Smith, “that before foundering the brig was lifted up by a sort of waterspout?” “Yes, Mr. Smith,” said Herbert. “Well, this was the cause of the waterspout,” said Smith, holding up the broken tube. “That?” answered Pencroff. “Yes; this cylinder is all that is left of a torpedo!” “A torpedo!” cried they all. “And who put a torpedo there?” asked Pencroff, unwilling to give up. “That I cannot tell you,” said Smith, “but there it was, and you witnessed its tremendous effects!” CHAPTER XLVII THE ENGINEER’S THEORY—PENCROFF’S MAGNIFICENT SUPPOSITIONS—A BATTERY IN THE AIR—FOUR PROJECTILES—THE SURVIVING CONVICTS—AYRTON HESITATES—SMITH’S GENEROSITY AND PENCROFF’S DISSATISFACTION.