Cyrus Smith tried to think, but he remembered little. The wave had swept him from the net of the balloon, and at first he had sunk several fathoms. Coming up to the surface, he was conscious, in the half-light, of something struggling beside him. It was Top, who had sprung to his rescue. Looking up, he could see nothing of the balloon, which, lightened by his and the dog’s weight, had sped away like an arrow. He found himself in the midst of the tumultuous sea, more than half a mile from shore. He swum vigorously against the waves, and Top sustained him by his garments; but a strong current seized him, carrying him to the north, and, after struggling for half an hour, he sank, dragging the dog with him into the abyss. From that moment to the instant of his finding himself in the arms of his friends, he remembered nothing. “Nevertheless,” said Pencroff, “you must have been cast upon the shore, and had strength enough to walk to this place, since Neb found your tracks.” “Yes, that must be so,” answered the engineer, reflectively. “And you have not seen any traces of inhabitants upon the shore?” “Not a sign,” answered the reporter. “Moreover, if by chance some one had rescued you from the waves, why should he then have abandoned you?” “You are right, my dear Spilett. Tell me, Neb,” inquired the engineer, turning towards his servant, “it was not you—you could not have been in a trance—during which—. No, that’s absurd. Do any of the footprints still remain?” “Yes, master,” replied Neb; “there are some at the entrance, back of this mound, in a place sheltered from the wind and rain, but the others have been obliterated by the storm.” “Pencroff,” said Cyrus, “will you take my shoes and see if they fit those footprints exactly?” The sailor did as he had been asked. He and Herbert, guided by Neb, went to where the marks were, and in their absence Smith said to the reporter:— “That is a thing passing belief.” “Inexplicable, indeed,” answered the other. “But do not dwell upon it at present, my dear Spilett, we will talk of it hereafter.” At this moment the others returned. All doubt was set at rest. The shoes of the engineer fitted the tracks exactly. Therefore it must have been Smith himself who had walked over the sand. “So,” he said, “I was the one in a trance, and not Neb! I must have walked like a somnambulist, without consciousness, and Top’s instinct brought me here after he rescued me from the waves. Here, Top. Come here, dog.” The splendid animal sprang, barking, to his master, and caresses were lavished upon him. It was agreed that there was no other way to account for the rescue than by giving Top the credit of it. Towards noon, Pencroff having asked Smith if he felt strong enough to be carried, the latter, for answer, by an effort which showed his strength of will, rose to his feet. But if he had not leaned upon the sailor he would have fallen. “Capital,” said Pencroff. “Summon the engineer’s carriage!”