He was sinking from exhaustion, and certainly, had not the reporter and his companions arrived, it would have been all over with Cyrus Harding.
"You thought your master was dead, didn't you ?" said the seaman to Neb.
"Yes! quite dead!" replied Neb, "and if Top had not found you, and brought you here, I should have buried my master, and then have lain down on his grave to die!" It had indeed been a narrow escape for Cyrus Harding! Neb then recounted what had happened.

The day before, after having left the Chimneys at daybreak, he had ascended the coast in a northerly direction, and had reached that part of the shore which he had already visited.
There, without any hope he acknowledged, Neb had searched the beach, among the rocks, on the sand, for the smallest trace to guide him.

He examined particularly that part of the beach which was not covered by the high tide, for near the sea the water would have obliterated all marks.

Neb did not expect to find his master living.

It was for a corpse that he searched, a corpse which he wished to bury with his own hands! He sought long in vain.