miserable men out to sea, would spare the colonists the sad task of burying them in some corner of their island.
For two hours, Cyrus Harding and his companions were solely occupied in hauling up the spars on to the sand, and then in spreading the sails, which were perfectly uninjured, to dry. They spoke little, for they were absorbed in their work, but what thoughts occupied their minds!
The possession of this brig, or rather all that she contained, was a perfect mine of wealth. A ship is like a little world in miniature, and the stores of the colony would be increased by many useful articles. It would be, on a large scale, equivalent to the chest found at Flotsam Point.
"And besides," thought Pencroft, "why should it be impossible to refloat the brig? If she has only a leak that may be stopped up; a vessel from three to four hundred tons, why she is a regular ship compared to our Bonadventure! And we could go a long distance in her! We could go anywhere we liked! Captain Harding, Ayrton and I must examine her! She would be well worth the trouble!"
In fact, if the brig was still fit to navigate, the colonists' chances of returning to their native land was singularly increased. But, to decide this important question, it was necessary to wait until the tide was quite low, so that every part of the brig's hull might be examined.
When their treasures had been safely conveyed on shore, the colonists devoted some minutes to breakfast. They were almost famished: fortunately, the larder was near, and Neb was an expeditious cook. They break fasted, therefore, at the Chimneys, and during their repast, as may be supposed, talked of the unexpected event which had so miraculously saved the colony.
"Miraculous is the word," repeated Pencroft. "Those rascals blew up just at the right moment! Granite House was beginning to be uncomfortable!"
"And can you guess, Pencroft," asked the reporter, "how it happened, or what can have occasioned the explosion?"
"Oh! Mr. Spilett, nothing is more simple," answered Pencroft. "A convict vessel is not disciplined like a man-of-war! Convicts are not sailors. The powder-magazine was open, and as they were firing incessantly, some careless or clumsy fellow just blew up the vessel!"
