Three years had passed since the prisoners had fled from Richmond, and in all that time their conversation and their thoughts had been of the fatherland. They had no doubt that the war was ended, and that the North had triumphed. But how? At what cost? What friends had fallen in the struggle? They often talked of these things, although they had no knowledge when they would be able to see that country again. To return, if only for a few days; to renew their intercourse with civilization; to establish a communication between their island and the mother country, and then to spend the greater part of their lives in this colony which they had founded and which would then be raised to a metropolis, was this a dream which could not be realized? There were but two ways of realizing it: either a ship would some day show itself in the neighborhood of Lincoln Island, or the colonists must themselves build a vessel staunch enough to carry them to the nearest land. “Unless our genius furnishes us with the means of returning home,” said Pencroff. And, indeed, if Neb and Pencroff had been told that a 300-ton ship was waiting for them in Shark Gulf or Balloon Harbor, they would not have manifested any surprise. In their present condition they expected every thing. But Smith, less confident, urged them to keep to realities, and to build the vessel, whose need was urgent, since a paper should be placed on Tabor Island as soon as possible, in order to indicate the new abode of Ayrton. The Good Luck was gone. It would take at least six mouths to build another vessel, and, as winter was approaching, the voyage could not be made before the next spring. “We have time to prepare ourself for the fine weather,” said the engineer, talking of these things with Pencroff. “I think, therefore, since we have to build our own ship, it will be better to make her dimensions greater than before. The arrival of the Scotch yacht is uncertain. It may even have happened that it has come and gone. What do you think? Would it not be better to build a vessel, that, in case of need, could carry us to the archipelagoes or New Zealand?” “I think, sir, that you are as able to build a large vessel as a small one. Neither wood nor tools are wanting. It is only a question of time.” “And how long would it take to build a ship of 250 or 300 tons?” “Seven or eight months at least. But we must not forget that winter is at hand, and that the timber will be difficult to work during the severe cold. So, allowing for some weeks’ delay, you can be happy if you have your ship by next November.” “Very well, that will be just the season to undertake a voyage of some length, be it to Tabor Island of further.” “All right, Mr. Smith, make your plans. The workmen are ready, and I guess that Ayrton will lend a helping hand.”