From time to time Pencroft took the glass and rested himself at the window.  From thence he very attentively examined the vessel, which was at a distance of twenty miles to the east.  The colonists had as yet, therefore, no means of signalizing their presence.  A flag would not have been perceived; a gun would not have been heard; a fire would not have been visible.  However, it was certain that the island, overtopped by Mount Franklin, could not escape the notice of the vessel’s lookout.  But why was the ship coming there?  Was it simple chance which brought it to that part of the Pacific, where the maps mentioned no land except Tabor Island, which itself was out of the route usually followed by vessels from the Polynesian Archipelagoes, from New Zealand, and from the American coast?  To this question, which each one asked himself, a reply was suddenly made by Herbert.

“Can it be the ’Duncan’?” he cried.

The “Duncan,” as has been said, was Lord Glenarvan’s yacht, which had left Ayrton on the islet, and which was to return there someday to fetch him.  Now, the islet was not so far distant from Lincoln Island, but that a vessel, standing for the one, could pass in sight of the other.  A hundred and fifty miles only separated them in longitude, and seventy in latitude.

“We must tell Ayrton,” said Gideon Spilett, “and send for him immediately.  He alone can say if it is the ‘Duncan.’”

This was the opinion of all, and the reporter, going to the telegraphic apparatus which placed the corral in communication with Granite House, sent this telegram:—­“Come with all possible speed.”

In a few minutes the bell sounded.

“I am coming,” replied Ayrton.

Then the settlers continued to watch the vessel.

“If it is the ‘Duncan,’” said Herbert, “Ayrton will recognize her without difficulty, since he sailed on board her for some time.”

“And if he recognizes her,” added Pencroft, “it will agitate him exceedingly!”

“Yes,” answered Cyrus Harding; “but now Ayrton is worthy to return on board the ‘Duncan,’ and pray Heaven that it is indeed Lord Glenarvan’s yacht, for I should be suspicious of any other vessel.  These are ill-famed seas, and I have always feared a visit from Malay pirates to our island.”

“We could defend it,’, cried Herbert.

“No doubt, my boy,” answered the engineer smiling, “but it would be better not to have to defend it.”

“A useless observation,” said Spilett.  “Lincoln Island is unknown to navigators, since it is not marked even on the most recent maps.  Do you think, Cyrus, that that is a sufficient motive for a ship, finding herself unexpectedly in sight of new land, to try and visit rather than avoid it?”

“Certainly,” replied Pencroft.

“I think so too,” added the engineer.  “It may even be said that it is the duty of a captain to come and survey any land or island not yet known, and Lincoln Island is in this position.”