Before returning to the Chimneys, the companions, in case they failed of a fire, gathered a fresh lot of lithodomes, and then silently took the road to their dwelling. Pencroff, his eyes fixed upon the ground, still searched in every direction for the lost box. They followed again up the left bank of the river, from its mouth to the angle where the raft had been built. They returned to the upper plateau, and went in every direction, searching in the tall grass on the edge of the forest, but in vain. It was 5 o’clock when they returned again to the Chimneys, and it is needless to say that the passages were searched in their darkest recesses before all hope was given up. Towards 6 o’clock, just as the sun was disappearing behind the high land in the west, Herbert, who was walking back and forth upon the shore, announced the return of Neb and of Gideon Spilett. They came back alone, and the lad felt his heart sink. The sailor had not, then, been wrong in his presentiments; they had been unable to find the engineer. The reporter, when he came up, seated himself upon a rock, without speaking. Fainting from fatigue, half dead with hunger, he was unable to utter a word. As to Neb, his reddened eyes showed how he had been weeping, and the fresh tears which he was unable to restrain, indicated, but too clearly, that he had lost all hope. The reporter at length gave the history of their search. Neb and he had followed the coast for more than eight miles, and, consequently, far beyond the point where the balloon had made the plunge which was followed by the disappearance of the engineer and Top. The shore was deserted. Not a recently turned stone, not a trace upon the sand, not a footprint, was upon all that part of the shore. It was evident that nobody inhabited that portion of the island. The sea was as deserted as the land; and it was there, at some hundreds of feet from shore, that the engineer had found his grave. At that moment Neb raised his head, and in a voice which showed how he still struggled against despair, exclaimed:— “No, he is not dead. It is impossible. It might happen to you or me, but never to him. He is a man who can get out of anything!” Then his strength failing him, he murmured, “But I am used up.” Herbert ran to him and cried:— “Neb, we will find him; God will give him back to us; but you, you must be famishing; do eat something.” And while speaking the lad offered the poor negro a handful of shell-fish—a meagre and insufficient nourishment enough. But Neb, though he had eaten nothing for hours, refused them. Poor fellow! deprived of his master, he wished no longer to live. As to Gideon Spilett, he devoured the mollusks, and then laid down upon the sand at the foot of a rock. He was exhausted, but calm. Herbert, approaching him, took his hand. “Mr. Spilett,” said he, “we have discovered a shelter where you will be more comfortable. The night is coming on; so come and rest there. To-morrow we will see—”