the settlers. By measuring them one after the other, according to their length and breadth, the marks of five men's feet were easily distinguished. The five convicts had evidently camped on this spot; but,—and this was the object of so minute an examination,—a sixth foot-print could not be discovered, which in that case would have been that of Ayrton.
"Ayrton was not with them!" said Herbert.
"No," answered Pencroft, "and if he was not with them, it was because the wretches had already murdered him! but then these rascals have not a den to which they may be tracked like tigers!"
"No," replied the reporter; "it is more probable that they wander at random, it is their interest to rove about until the time when they are masters of the island!"
"The masters of the island!" exclaimed the sailor; "the masters of the island!" and his voice was choked, as if his throat was seized in an iron grasp. Then in a calmer tone, "Do you know, Captain Harding," said he, "what the ball is which I have rammed into my gun?"
"No, Pencroft!"
"It is the ball that went through Herbert's chest, and I promise you it won't miss its mark!"
But this just retaliation would not bring Ayrton back to life, and from the examination of the footprints left in the ground, they must, alas! conclude that all hopes of ever seeing him again must be abandoned.
That evening they encamped fourteen miles from Granite House, and Cyrus Harding calculated that they could not be more than five miles from Reptile Point.
The next day the extremity of the peninsula was reached, and the whole length of the forest had been traversed; but there was nothing to indicate the retreat in which the convicts had taken refuge, nor that, no less secret, which sheltered the mysterious unknown.
CHAPTER XII
AYRTON'S RESCUE
The next day, the 18th of February, was devoted to the exploration of all that wooded region forming the shore
