They had no doubt that the civil war was at an end, and to them it appeared impossible that the just cause of the North had not triumphed.  But what had been the incidents of this terrible war?  How much blood had it not cost?  How many of their friends must have fallen in the struggle?  They often spoke of these things, without as yet being able to foresee the day when they would be permitted once more to see their country.  To return thither, were it but for a few days, to renew the social link with the inhabited world, to establish a communication between their native land and their island, then to pass the longest, perhaps the best, portion of their existence in this colony, founded by them, and which would then be dependent on their country, was this a dream impossible to realize?

There were only two ways of accomplishing it—­either a ship must appear off Lincoln Island, or the colonists must themselves build a vessel strong enough to sail to the nearest land.

“Unless,” said Pencroft, “our good genius, himself provides us with the means of returning to our country.”

And, really, had any one told Pencroft and Neb that a ship of 300 tons was waiting for them in Shark Gulf or at Port Balloon, they would not even have made a gesture of surprise.  In their state of mind nothing appeared improbable.

But Cyrus Harding, less confident, advised them to confine themselves to fact, and more especially so with regard to the building of a vessel—­a really urgent work, since it was for the purpose of depositing, as soon as possible, at Tabor Island a document indicating Ayrton’s new residence.

As the “Bonadventure” no longer existed, six months at least would be required for the construction of a new vessel.  Now winter was approaching, and the voyage would not be made before the following spring.

“We have time to get everything ready for the fine season,” remarked the engineer, who was consulting with Pencroft about these matters.  “I think, therefore, my friend, that since we have to rebuild our vessel it will be best to give her larger dimensions.  The arrival of the Scotch yacht at Tabor Island is very uncertain.  It may even be that, having arrived several months ago, she has again sailed after having vainly searched for some trace of Ayrton.  Will it not then he best to build a ship which, if necessary, could take us either to the Polynesian Archipelago or to New Zealand?  What do you think?”

“I think, captain,” answered the sailor; “I think that you are as capable of building a large vessel as a small one.  Neither the wood nor the tools are wanting.  It is only a question of time.”

“And how many months would be required to build a vessel of from 250 to 300 tons?” asked Harding.

“Seven or eight months at least,” replied Pencroft.  “But it must not be forgotten that winter is drawing near, and that in severe frost wood is difficult to work.  We must calculate on several weeks delay, and if our vessel is ready by next November we may think ourselves very lucky.”