"My friends," said Cyrus Harding, "perhaps this vessel only wishes to survey the coast of the island.Perhaps her crew will not land.There is a chance of it.However that may be, we ought to do everything we can to hide our presence here.The windmill on Prospect Heights is too easily seen.Let Ayrton and Neb go and take down the sails.We must also conceal the windows of Granite House with thick branches.All the fires must be extinguished, so that nothing may betray the presence of men on the island.""And our vessel?" said Herbert.
"Oh," answered Pencroft, "she is sheltered in Port Balloon, and I defy any of those rascals there to find her!"The engineer's orders were immediately executed.Neb and Ayrton ascended the plateau, and took the necessary precautions to conceal any indication of a settlement.While they were thus occupied, their companions went to the border of Jacamar Wood, and brought back a large quantity of branches and creepers, which would at some distance appear as natural foliage, and thus disguise the windows in the granite cliff.At the same time, the ammunition and guns were placed ready so as to be at hand in case of an unexpected attack.
When all these precautions had been taken,--"My friends," said Harding, and his voice betrayed some emotion, "if the wretches endeavor to seize Lincoln Island, we shall defend it--shall we not?""Yes, Cyrus," replied the reporter, "and if necessary we will die to defend it!"The engineer extended his hand to his companions, who pressed it warmly.
Ayrton remained in his corner, not joining the colonists.Perhaps he, the former convict, still felt himself unworthy to do so!
Cyrus Harding understood what was passing in Ayrton's mind, and going to him--"And you, Ayrton," he asked, "what will you do?""My duty," answered Ayrton.
He then took up his station near the window and gazed through the foliage.
It was now half-past seven.The sun had disappeared twenty minutes ago behind Granite House.Consequently the Eastern horizon was becoming obscured.In the meanwhile the brig continued to advance towards Union Bay.
She was now not more than two miles off, and exactly opposite the plateau of Prospect Heights, for after having tacked off Claw Cape, she had drifted towards the north in the current of the rising tide.One might have said that at this distance she had already entered the vast bay, for a straight line drawn from Claw Cape to Cape Mandible would have rested on her starboard quarter.
Was the brig about to penetrate far into the bay? That was the first question.When once in the bay, would she anchor there? That was the second.Would she not content herself with only surveying the coast, and stand out to sea again without landing her crew? They would know this in an hour.The colonists could do nothing but wait.
Cyrus Harding had not seen the suspected vessel hoist the black flag without deep anxiety.Was it not a direct menace against the work which he and his companions had till now conducted so successfully? Had these pirates--for the sailors of the brig could be nothing else--already visited the island, since on approaching it they had hoisted their colors.Had they formerly invaded it, so that certain unaccountable peculiarities might be explained in this way? Did there exist in the as yet unexplored parts some accomplice ready to enter into communication with them?
To all these questions which he mentally asked himself, Harding knew not what to reply; but he felt that the safety of the colony could not but be seriously threatened by the arrival of the brig.
However, he and his companions were determined to fight to the last gasp.
It would have been very important to know if the pirates were numerous and better armed than the colonists.But how was this information to he obtained?
Night fell.The new moon had disappeared.Profound darkness enveloped the island and the sea.No light could pierce through the heavy piles of clouds on the horizon.The wind had died away completely with the twilight.Not a leaf rustled on the trees, not a ripple murmured on the shore.Nothing could be seen of the ship, all her lights being extinguished, and if she was still in sight of the island, her whereabouts could not be discovered.
"Well! who knows?" said Pencroft."Perhaps that cursed craft will stand off during the night, and we shall see nothing of her at daybreak."As if in reply to the sailor's observation, a bright light flashed in the darkness, and a cannon-shot was heard.
The vessel was still there and had guns on board.
Six seconds elapsed between the flash and the report.
Therefore the brig was about a mile and a quarter from the coast.
At the same time, the chains were heard rattling through the hawse-holes.
The vessel had just anchored in sight of Granite House!