The six convicts, disembarking on the island, had followed the southern shore, and after having traversed the double shore of the Serpentine Peninsula, not being inclined to venture into the Far West woods, they had reached the mouth of Falls River.  From this point, by following the right bank of the watercourse, they would arrive at the spurs of Mount Franklin, among which they would naturally seek a retreat, and they could not have been long in discovering the corral, then uninhabited.  There they had regularly installed themselves, awaiting the moment to put their abominable schemes into execution.  Ayrton’s arrival had surprised them, but they had managed to overpower the unfortunate man, and—­the rest may be easily imagined!

Now, the convicts,—­reduced to five, it is true, but well armed,—­were roaming the woods, and to venture there was to expose themselves to their attacks, which could be neither guarded against nor prevented.

“Wait!  There is nothing else to be done!” repeated Cyrus Harding.  “When Herbert is cured, we can organize a general battle of the island, and have satisfaction of these convicts.  That will be the object of our grand expedition at the same time—­”

“As the search for our mysterious protector,” added Gideon Spilett, finishing the engineer’s sentence.  “An, it must be acknowledged, my dear Cyrus, that this time his protection was wanting at the very moment when it was most necessary to us!”

“Who knows?” replied the engineer.

“What do you mean?” asked the reporter.

“That we are not at the end of our trouble yet, my dear Spilett, and that his powerful intervention may have another opportunity of exercising itself.  But that is not the question now.  Herbert’s life before everything.”

This was the colonists’ saddest thought.  Several days passed, and the poor boy’s state was happily no worse.  Cold water, always kept at a suitable temperature, had completely prevented the inflammation of the wounds.  It even seemed to the reporter that this water, being slightly sulphurous,—­which was explained by the neighborhood of the volcano, had a more direct action on the healing.  The suppuration was much less abundant, and thanks to the incessant care by which he was surrounded!—­Herbert returned to life, and his fever abated.  He was besides subjected to a severe diet, and consequently his weakness was and would be extreme; but there was no want of refreshing drinks, and absolute rest was of the greatest benefit to him.  Cyrus Harding, Gideon Spilett, and Pencroft had become very skilful in dressing the lad’s wounds.  All the linen in the house had been sacrificed.  Herbert’s wounds, covered with compresses and lint, were pressed neither too much nor too little, so as to cause their cicatrization without effecting any inflammatory reaction.  The reporter used extreme care in the dressing, knowing well the importance of it, and repeating to his companions that which most surgeons willingly admit, that it is perhaps rarer to see a dressing well done than an operation well performed.