This plan settled, it had only to be put into execution.  The miners became brickmakers again, then the bricks were brought to the foot of Granite House.  Till then, Harding and his companions had only entered the cavern by the long passage.  This mode of communication obliged them first to climb Prospect Heights, making a detour by the river’s bank, and then to descend two hundred feet through the passage, having to climb as far when they wished to return to the plateau.  This was a great loss of time, and was also very fatiguing.  Cyrus Harding, therefore, resolved to proceed without any further delay to the fabrication of a strong rope ladder, which, once raised, would render Granite House completely inaccessible.

This ladder was manufactured with extreme care, and its uprights, formed of the twisted fibers of a species of cane, had the strength of a thick cable.  As to the rounds, they were made of a sort of red cedar, with light, strong branches; and this apparatus was wrought by the masterly hand of Pencroft.

Other ropes were made with vegetable fibers, and a sort of crane with a tackle was fixed at the door.  In this way bricks could easily be raised into Granite House.  The transport of the materials being thus simplified, the arrangement of the interior could begin immediately.  There was no want of lime, and some thousands of bricks were there ready to be used.  The framework of the partitions was soon raised, very roughly at first, and in a short time, the cave was divided into rooms and storehouses, according to the plan agreed upon.

These different works progressed rapidly under the direction of the engineer, who himself handled the hammer and the trowel.  No labor came amiss to Cyrus Harding, who thus set an example to his intelligent and zealous companions.  They worked with confidence, even gaily, Pencroft always having some joke to crack, sometimes carpenter, sometimes rope-maker, sometimes mason, while he communicated his good humor to all the members of their little world.  His faith in the engineer was complete; nothing could disturb it.  He believed him capable of undertaking anything and succeeding in everything.  The question of boots and clothes—­assuredly a serious question,—­that of light during the winter months, utilizing the fertile parts of the island, transforming the wild flora into cultivated flora, it all appeared easy to him; Cyrus Harding helping, everything would be done in time.  He dreamed of canals facilitating the transport of the riches of the ground; workings of quarries and mines; machines for every industrial manufacture; railroads; yes, railroads! of which a network would certainly one day cover Lincoln Island.

The engineer let Pencroft talk.  He did not put down the aspirations of this brave heart.  He knew how communicable confidence is; he even smiled to hear him speak, and said nothing of the uneasiness for the future which he felt.  In fact, in that part of the Pacific, out of the course of vessels, it was to be feared that no help would ever come to them.  It was on themselves, on themselves alone, that the settlers must depend, for the distance of Lincoln Island from all other land was such, that to hazard themselves in a boat, of a necessarily inferior construction, would be a serious and perilous thing.