"Jules Verne. The Mysterious Island" - читать интересную книгу автора

As to Neb, his red eyes showed how he had cried, and the tears which he
could not restrain told too clearly that he had lost all hope.

The reporter recounted all that they had done in their attempt to recover
Cyrus Harding. He and Neb had surveyed the coast for a distance of eight
miles and consequently much beyond the place where the balloon had fallen
the last time but one, a fall which was followed by the disappearance of
the engineer and the dog Top. The shore was solitary; not a vestige of a
mark. Not even a pebble recently displaced; not a trace on the sand; not a
human footstep on all that part of the beach. It was clear that that
portion of the shore had never been visited by a human being. The sea was
as deserted as the land, and it was there, a few hundred feet from the
coast, that the engineer must have found a tomb.

As Spilett ended his account, Neb jumped up, exclaiming in a voice which
showed how hope struggled within him, "No! he is not dead! he can't be
dead! It might happen to any one else, but never to him! He could get out
of anything!" Then his strength forsaking him, "Oh! I can do no more!" he
murmured.

"Neb," said Herbert, running to him, "we will find him! God will give him
back to us! But in the meantime you are hungry, and you must eat
something."

So saying, he offered the poor Negro a few handfuls of shell-fish, which
was indeed wretched and insufficient food. Neb had not eaten anything for
several hours, but he refused them. He could not, would not live without
his master.

As to Gideon Spilett, he devoured the shell-fish, then he laid himself
down on the sand, at the foot of a rock. He was very weak, but calm.
Herbert went up to him, and taking his hand, "Sir," said he, "we have found
a shelter which will be better than lying here. Night is advancing. Come
and rest! To-morrow we will search farther."

The reporter got up, and guided by the boy went towards the cave. On the
way, Pencroft asked him in the most natural tone, if by chance he happened
to have a match or two.

The reporter stopped, felt in his pockets, but finding nothing said, "I
had some, but I must have thrown them away."

The seaman then put the same question to Neb and received the same
answer.

"Confound it!" exclaimed the sailor.

The reporter heard him and seizing his arm, "Have you no matches?" he
asked.