Free The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne

satisfaction.
    Their meal concluded, each retired to the corner in which he had rested
the preceding night, and Herbert was not long in going to sleep near the
sailor, who had stretched himself beside the fireplace.
    Outside, as the night advanced, the tempest also increased in strength,
until it was equal to that which had carried the prisoners from Richmond
to this land in the Pacific. The tempests which are frequent during the
seasons of the equinox, and which are so prolific in catastrophes, are
above all terrible over this immense ocean, which opposes no obstacle to
their fury. No description can give an idea of the terrific violence of
the gale as it beat upon the unprotected coast.
    Happily the pile of rocks which formed the Chimneys was solid. It was
composed of enormous blocks of granite, a few of which, insecurely
balanced, seemed to tremble on their foundations, and Pencroft could
feel rapid quiverings under his head as it rested on the rock. But he
repeated to himself, and rightly, that there was nothing to fear, and
that their retreat would not give way. However he heard the noise of
stones torn from the summit of the plateau by the wind, falling down on
to the beach. A few even rolled on to the upper part of the Chimneys,
or flew off in fragments when they were projected perpendicularly. Twice
the sailor rose and intrenched himself at the opening of the passage, so
as to take a look in safety at the outside. But there was nothing to be
feared from these showers, which were not considerable, and he returned
to his couch before the fireplace, where the embers glowed beneath the
ashes.
    Notwithstanding the fury of the hurricane, the uproar of the tempest,
the thunder, and the tumult, Herbert slept profoundly. Sleep at last
took possession of Pencroft, whom a seafaring life had habituated to
anything. Gideon Spilett alone was kept awake by anxiety. He reproached
himself with not having accompanied Neb. It was evident that he had not
abandoned all hope. The presentiments which had troubled Herbert did not
cease to agitate him also. His thoughts were concentrated on Neb. Why
had Neb not returned? He tossed about on his sandy couch, scarcely
giving a thought to the struggle of the elements. Now and then, his
eyes, heavy with fatigue, closed for an instant, but some sudden thought
reopened them almost immediately.
    Meanwhile the night advanced, and it was perhaps two hours from morning,
when Pencroft, then sound asleep, was vigorously shaken.
    "What's the matter?" he cried, rousing himself, and collecting his ideas
with the promptitude usual to seamen.
    The reporter was leaning over him, and saying,—
    "Listen, Pencroft, listen!"
    The sailor strained his ears, but could hear no noise beyond those
caused by the storm.
    "It is the wind," said he.
    "No," replied Gideon Spilett, listening again, "I thought I heard—"
    "What?"
    "The barking of a dog!"
    "A dog!" cried Pencroft, springing up.
    "Yes—barking—"
    "It's not possible!" replied the sailor. "And besides, how, in the
roaring of the storm—"
    "Stop—listen—" said the reporter.
    Pencroft listened more attentively, and really thought he heard, during
a lull, distant barking.
    "Well!" said the reporter, pressing the sailor's hand.
    "Yes—yes!" replied Pencroft.
    "It is Top! It is Top!" cried Herbert, who had just awoke; and all three
rushed towards the opening of the Chimneys. They had great difficulty in
getting out. The wind drove them back. But at last they succeeded, and
could only remain standing by leaning against the rocks. They looked
about, but could not speak. The darkness was intense. The sea, the sky,
the land were all mingled in one black mass. Not a speck of light was
visible.
    The reporter and his companions remained thus for a few minutes,
overwhelmed by the wind, drenched by the rain, blinded by the sand.
    Then, in a pause of the tumult, they again heard the barking, which they
found must be at some distance.
    It could only be Top! But was he