And the sailor pointed out a mass of faded cloth caught on the summit of the pine, a piece of which Top had found on the ground. “But that is no waif!” exclaimed Spilett. “Indeed it is,” answered Pencroff. “How is it!” “It is all that is left of our balloon, of our ship which is stranded on the top of this tree.” Pencroff was not mistaken, and he added, with a shout:— With a few strokes the party arrived at the mouth of the Mercy. The canoe was drawn on shore at the Chimneys, and all took their way to the ladder at Granite House. But, just then, Top began barking furiously, and Neb, who was feeling for the lower rung, cried out:— “The ladder’s gone!” The others stationed themselves some distance in the background to observe what might happen, and the reporter covered the doorway with his carbine. The bow bent, the arrow shot upward with the cord, and passed between the two lower rungs of the ladder. The operation had succeeded. But just as Herbert, having caught the end of the cord, was about giving it a pull to make the ladder fall, an arm thrust quickly between the door and the wall seized the ladder and drew it within Granite House. “You little beggar!” cried Pencroff. “If a ball would settle you, you would not have to wait long!” “But what is it?” demanded Neb. “What! didn’t you see?” “No.”