“And yet we are not mistaken,” remarked the reporter. “Mutterings can be distinctly heard in the very bowels of the volcano!”
“You are right,” said the engineer, again listening attentively. “There can be no doubt of it. A commotion is going on there, of which we can neither estimate the importance nor the ultimate result.”
Cyrus Harding and Spilett, on coming out, rejoined their companions, to whom they made known the state of affairs.
“Very well!” cried Pencroft, “The volcano wants to play his pranks! Let him try, if he likes! He will find his master!”
“Who?” asked Neb.
“Our good genius, Neb, our good genius, who will shut his mouth for him, if he so much as pretends to open it!”
As may be seen, the sailor’s confidence in the tutelary deity of his island was absolute, and, certainl
