The engineer, revived by this rude shampooing, moved his arm slightly and began to breathe more regularly.  He was sinking from exhaustion, and certainly, had not the reporter and his companions arrived, it would have been all over with Cyrus Harding.

“You thought your master was dead, didn’t you?” said the seaman to Neb.

“Yes! quite dead!” replied Neb, “and if Top had not found you, and brought you here, I should have buried my master, and then have lain down on his grave to die!”

It had indeed been a narrow escape for Cyrus Harding!

Neb then recounted what had happened.  The day before, after having left the Chimneys at daybreak, he had ascended the coast in a northerly direction, and had reached that part of the shore which he had already visited.

There, without any hope he acknowledged, Neb had searched the beach, among the rocks, on the sand, for the smallest trace to guide him.  He examined particularly that part of the beach which was not covered by the high tide, for near the sea the water would have obliterated all marks.  Neb did not expect to find his master living.  It was for a corpse that he searched, a corpse which he wished to bury with his own hands!

He sought long in vain.  This desert coast appeared never to have been visited by a human creature.  The shells, those which the sea had not reached, and which might be met with by millions above high-water mark, were untouched.  Not a shell was broken.

Neb then resolved to walk along the beach for some miles.  It was possible that the waves had carried the body to quite a distant point.  When a corpse floats a little distance from a low shore, it rarely happens that the tide does not throw it up, sooner or later.  This Neb knew, and he wished to see his master again for the last time.

“I went along the coast for another two miles, carefully examining the beach, both at high and low water, and I had despaired of finding anything, when yesterday, above five in the evening, I saw footprints on the sand.”

“Footprints?” exclaimed Pencroft.

“Yes!” replied Neb.

“Did these footprints begin at the water’s edge?” asked the reporter.

“No,” replied Neb, “only above high-water mark, for the others must have been washed out by the tide.”

“Go on, Neb,” said Spilett.

“I went half crazy when I saw these footprints.  They were very clear and went towards the downs.  I followed them for a quarter of a mile, running, but taking care not to destroy them.  Five minutes after, as it was getting dark, I heard the barking of a dog.  It was Top, and Top brought me here, to my master!”

Neb ended his account by saying what had been his grief at finding the inanimate body, in which he vainly sought for the least sign of life.  Now that he had found him dead he longed for him to be alive.  All his efforts were useless!  Nothing remained to be done but to render the last duties to the one whom he had loved so much!  Neb then thought of his companions.  They, no doubt, would wish to see the unfortunate man again.  Top was there.  Could he not rely on the sagacity of the faithful animal?  Neb several times pronounced the name of the reporter, the one among his companions whom Top knew best.