“Yes, my brave Pencroft,” answered the engineer, “but on condition, however, that you help me, for you do as much as three men in all our work.”

Herbert and the sailor then re-embarked on board the “Bonadventure,” the anchor was weighed, the sail hoisted, and the wind drove her rapidly towards Claw Cape.  Two hours after, she was reposing on the tranquil waters of Port Balloon.

During the first days passed by the stranger in Granite House, had he already given them reason to think that his savage nature was becoming tamed?  Did a brighter light burn in the depths of that obscured mind?  In short, was the soul returning to the body?

Yes, to a certainty, and to such a degree, that Cyrus Harding and the reporter wondered if the reason of the unfortunate man had ever been totally extinguished.  At first, accustomed to the open air, to the unrestrained liberty which he had enjoyed on Tabor Island, the stranger manifested a sullen fury, and it was feared that he might throw himself onto the beach, out of one of the windows of Granite House.  But gradually he became calmer, and more freedom was allowed to his movements.

They had reason to hope, and to hope much.  Already, forgetting his carnivorous instincts, the stranger accepted a less bestial nourishment than that on which he fed on the islet, and cooked meat did not produce in him the same sentiment of repulsion which he had showed on board the “Bonadventure.”  Cyrus Harding had profited by a moment when he was sleeping, to cut his hair and matted beard, which formed a sort of mane and gave him such a savage aspect.  He had also been clothed more suitably, after having got rid of the rag which covered him.  The result was that, thanks to these attentions, the stranger resumed a more human appearance, and it even seemed as if his eyes had become milder.  Certainly, when formerly lighted up by intelligence, this man’s face must have had a sort of beauty.

Every day, Harding imposed on himself the task of passing some hours in his company.  He came and worked near him, and occupied himself in different things, so as to fix his attention.  A spark, indeed, would be sufficient to reillumine that soul, a recollection crossing that brain to recall reason.  That had been seen, during the storm, on board the “Bonadventure!” The engineer did not neglect either to speak aloud, so as to penetrate at the same time by the organs of hearing and sight the depths of that torpid intelligence.  Sometimes one of his companions, sometimes another, sometimes all joined him.  They spoke most often of things belonging to the navy, which must interest a sailor.

At times, the stranger gave some slight attention to what was said, and the settlers were soon convinced that he partly understood them.  Sometimes the expression of his countenance was deeply sorrowful, a proof that he suffered mentally, for his face could not be mistaken; but he did not speak, although at different times, however, they almost thought that words were about to issue from his lips.  At all events, the poor creature was quite quiet and sad!