"Herbert wounded. We are at the corral. Be on your guard. Do not
leave Granite House. Have the convicts appeared in the neighbourhood?
Reply by Top."
This laconic note contained all that Neb ought to know, and at the same
time asked all the colonists wished to know. It was folded and fastened
to Top's collar in a conspicuous position.
"Top, my dog," said the engineer, caressing the animal, "Neb, Top! Neb!
Go, go!"
Top bounded at these words. He understood, he knew what was expected of
him. The road to the corral was familiar to him. In less than an hour
he could clear it, and it might be hoped that where neither Cyrus
Harding nor the reporter could have ventured without danger, Top,
running amongst the grass or in the wood, would pass unperceived.
The engineer went to the gate of the corral and opened it.
"Neb, Top! Neb!" repeated the engineer, again pointing in the direction
of Granite House.
Top sprang forwards, and almost immediately disappeared.
"He will get there!" said the reporter.
"Yes, and he will come back, the faithful animal!"
"What o'clock is it?" asked Gideon Spilett.
"Ten."
"In an hour he may be here. We will watch for his return."
The gate of the corral was closed. The engineer and the reporter
re-entered the house. Herbert was still in a sleep. Pencroft kept the
compresser always wet. Spilett, seeing there was nothing he could do at
that moment, busied himself in preparing some nourishment, whilst
attentively watching that part of the enclosure against the hill, at
which an attack might be expected.
The settlers awaited Top's return with much anxiety. A little before
eleven o'clock, Cyrus Harding and the reporter, rifle in hand, were
behind the gate, ready to open it at the first bark of their dog.
They did not doubt that if Top had arrived safely at Granite House, Neb
would have sent him back immediately.
They had both been there for about ten minutes, when a report was heard,
followed by repeated barks.
The engineer opened the gate, and seeing smoke a hundred feet off in the
wood, he fired in that direction.
Almost immediately Top bounded into the corral, and the gate was quickly
shut.
"Top, Top!" exclaimed the engineer, taking the dog's great honest head
between his hands.
A note was fastened to his neck, and Cyrus Harding read these words,
traced in Neb's large writing:--
"No pirates in the neighbourhood of Granite House. I will not stir.
Poor Mr Herbert!"