than a sharp rock into those of my ‘Bonadventure!’”
That which Pencroft called ribs was the part of his vessel under water,
and he valued it more than his own skin.
“What o’clock is it?” asked Pencroft.
“Ten o’clock,” replied Gideon Spilett.
“And what distance is it to the Cape, captain?”
“About fifteen miles,” replied the engineer.
“That’s a matter of two hours and a half,” said the sailor, “and we
shall be off the Cape between twelve and one o’clock. Unluckily, the
tide will be turning at that moment, and will be ebbing out of the gulf.
I am afraid that it will be very difficult to get in, having both wind
and tide against us.”
“And the more so that it is a full moon to-day,” remarked Herbert, “and
these April tides are very strong.”
“Well, Pencroft,” asked Harding, “can you not anchor off the Cape?”
“Anchor near land, with bad weather coming on!” exclaimed the sailor.
“What are you thinking of, captain? We should run aground, of a
certainty!”
“What will you do then?”
“I shall try to keep in the offing until the flood, that is to say, till
about seven in the evening, and if there is still light enough I will
try to enter the gulf; if not, we must stand off and on during the
night, and we will enter to-morrow at sunrise.”
“As I told you, Pencroft, we will leave it to you,” answered Harding.
“Ah!” said Pencroft, “if there was only a lighthouse on the coast, it
would be much more convenient for sailors.”
“Yes,” replied Herbert, “and this time we shall have no obliging
engineer to light a fire to guide us into port!”
“Why, indeed, my dear Cyrus,” said Spilett, “we have never thanked you;
but frankly, without that fire we should never have been able--”
“A fire?” asked Harding, much astonished at the reporter’s words.
“We mean, captain,” answered Pencroft, “that on board the ‘Bonadventure’
we were very anxious during the few hours before our return, and we
should have passed to windward of the island, if it had not been for the
precaution you took of lighting a fire the night of the 19th of October,
on Prospect Heights.”
“Yes, yes! That was a lucky idea of mine!” replied the engineer.
“And this time,” continued the sailor, “unless the idea occurs to
Ayrton, there will be no one to do us that little service!”
“No! No one!” answered Cyrus Harding.
A few minutes after, finding himself alone in the bows of the vessel,
with the reporter, the engineer bent down and whispered,--
“If there is one thing certain in this world, Spilett, it is that I
never lighted any fire during the night of the 19th of October, neither
on Prospect Heights nor on any other part of the island!”
Chapter 20
Things happened as Pencroft had predicted, he being seldom mistaken in
his prognostications. The wind rose, and from a fresh breeze it soon
increased to a regular gale; that is to say, it acquired a speed of from
forty to forty-five miles an hour, before which a ship in the open sea
would have run under close-reefed topsails. Now, as it was nearly six
o’clock when the “Bonadventure” reached the gulf, and as at that
moment the tide turned, it was impossible to enter. They were therefore
compelled to stand off, for even if he had wished to do so, Pencroft
could not have gained the mouth of the Mercy. Hoisting the jib to the
mainmast by way of a storm-sail, he hove to, putting the head of the
vessel towards the land.
Fortunately, although the wind was strong the sea, being sheltered by
the land, did not run very high. They had then little to fear from
the waves, which always endanger small craft. The “Bonadventure” would
doubtlessly not have capsized, for she was well ballasted, but enormous
masses of water falling on the deck might injure her if her timbers
could not sustain them. Pencroft, as a good sailor, was prepared
for anything. Certainly, he had great confidence in his vessel, but
nevertheless he awaited the return of day with some anxiety.
During the night, Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett had no opportunity
for talking together, and yet the words pronounced in the reporter’s
ear by the engineer were well worth being discussed, together with the
mysterious influence which appeared to reign over Lincoln Island. Gideon
Spilett did not cease from pondering over this new and inexplicable
incident, the appearance of a fire on the coast of the island. The fire
had actually been seen! His companions, Herbert and Pencroft, had seen
it with him! The fire had served to signalize the position of the island
during that dark night, and they had not doubted that it was lighted by
the engineer’s hand; and here was Cyrus Harding expressly declaring that
he had never done anything of the sort! Spilett resolved to recur to
this incident as soon as the “Bonadventure” returned, and to urge Cyrus
Harding to acquaint their companions with these strange facts. Perhaps
it would be decided to make in common a complete investigation of every
part of Lincoln Island.
However that might be, on this evening no fire was lighted on these yet
unknown shores, which formed the entrance to the gulf, and the little
vessel stood off during the night.
When the first streaks of dawn appeared in the western horizon, the
wind, which had slightly fallen, shifted two points, and enabled
Pencroft to enter the narrow gulf with greater ease. Towards seven
o’clock in the morning, the “Bonadventure,” weathering the North
Mandible Cape, entered the strait and glided on to the waters, so
strangely enclosed in the frame of lava.
“Well,” said Pencroft, “this bay would make admirable roads, in which a
whole fleet could lie at their ease!”
“What is especially curious,” observed Harding, “is that the gulf
has been formed by two rivers of lava, thrown out by the volcano, and
accumulated by successive eruptions. The result is that the gulf is
completely sheltered on all sides, and I believe that even in the
stormiest weather, the sea here must be as calm as a lake.”
“No doubt,” returned the sailor, “since the wind has only that narrow
entrance between the two capes to get in by, and, besides, the north
cape protects that of the south in a way which would make the entrance
of gusts very difficult. I declare our ‘Bonadventure’ could stay here
from one end of the year to the other, without even dragging at her
anchor!”
“It is rather large for her!” observed the reporter.
“Well! Mr. Spilett,” replied the sailor, “I agree that it is too large
for the ‘Bonadventure,’ but if the fleets of the Union were in want of a
harbor in the Pacific, I don’t think they would ever find a better place
than this!”
“We are in the shark’s mouth,” remarked Neb, alluding to the form of the
gulf.
“Right into its mouth, my honest Neb!” replied Herbert, “but you are not
afraid that it will shut upon us, are you?”
“No, Mr. Herbert,” answered Neb, “and yet this gulf here doesn’t please
me much! It has a wicked look!”
“Hallo!” cried Pencroft, “here is Neb turning up his nose at my gulf,
just as I was thinking of presenting it to America!”
“But, at any rate, is the water deep enough?” asked the engineer, “for a
depth sufficient for the keel of the ‘Bonadventure’ would not be enough
for those of our iron-clads.”
“That is easily found out,” replied Pencroft.
And the sailor sounded with a long cord, which served him as a
lead-line, and to which was fastened a lump of iron. This cord measured
nearly fifty fathoms, and its entire length was unrolled without finding
any bottom.
“There,” exclaimed Pencroft, “our iron-clads can come here after all!
They would not run aground!”
“Indeed,” said Gideon Spilett, “this gulf is a regular abyss, but,
taking into consideration the volcanic origin of the island, it is not
astonishing that the sea should offer similar depressions.”
“One would say too,” observed Herbert, “that these cliffs were perfectly
perpendicular; and I believe that at their foot, even with a line five
or six times longer, Pencroft would not find bottom.”
“That is all very well,” then said the reporter, “but I must point out
to Pencroft that his harbor is wanting in one very important respect!”
“And what is that, Mr. Spilett?”
“An opening, a cutting of some sort, to give access to the interior of
the island. I do not see a spot on which we could land.” And, in
fact, the steep lava cliffs did not afford a single place suitable for
landing. They formed an insuperable barrier, recalling, but with more
wildness, the fiords of Norway. The “Bonadventure,” coasting as close
as possible along the cliffs, did not discover even a projection which
would allow the passengers to leave the deck.
Pencroft consoled himself by saying that with the help of a mine they
could soon open out the cliff when that was necessary, and then, as
there was evidently nothing to be done in the gulf, he steered his
vessel towards the strait and passed out at about two o’clock in the
afternoon.
“Ah!” said Neb, uttering a sigh of satisfaction.
One might really say that the honest Negro did not feel at his ease in
those enormous jaws.
The distance from Mandible Cape to the mouth of the Mercy was not more
than eight miles. The head of the “Bonadventure” was put towards Granite
House, and a fair wind filling her sails, she ran rapidly along the
coast.
To the enormous lava rocks succeeded soon those capricious sand dunes,
among which the engineer had been so singularly recovered, and which
seabirds frequented in thousands.
About four o’clock, Pencroft leaving the point of the islet on his
left, entered the channel which separated it from the coast, and at five
o’clock the anchor of the “Bonadventure” was buried in the sand at the
mouth of the Mercy.
The colonists had been absent three days from their dwelling. Ayrton
was waiting for them on the beach, and Jup came joyously to meet them,
giving vent to deep grunts of satisfaction.
A complete exploration of the coast of the island had now been made,
and no suspicious appearances had been observed. If any mysterious being
resided on it, it could only be under cover of the impenetrable forest
of the Serpentine Peninsula, to which the colonists had not yet directed
their investigations.
Gideon Spilett discussed these things with the engineer, and it was
agreed that they should direct the attention of their companions to the
strange character of certain incidents which had occurred on the island,
and of which the last was the most unaccountable.
However, Harding, returning to the fact of a fire having been kindled on
the shore by an unknown hand, could not refrain from repeating for the
twentieth time to the reporter,--
“But are you quite sure of having seen it? Was it not a partial eruption
of the volcano, or perhaps some meteor?”
“No, Cyrus,” answered the reporter, “it was certainly a fire lighted by
the hand of man. Besides; question Pencroft and Herbert. They saw it as
I saw it myself, and they will confirm my words.”
In consequence, therefore, a few days after, on the 25th of April, in
the evening, when the settlers were all collected on Prospect Heights,
Cyrus Harding began by saying,--
“My friends, I think it my duty to call your attention to certain
incidents which have occurred in the island, on the subject of which I
shall be happy to have your advice. These incidents are, so to speak,
supernatural--”
“Supernatural!” exclaimed the sailor, emitting a volume of smoke from
his mouth. “Can it be possible that our island is supernatural?”
“No, Pencroft, but mysterious, most certainly,” replied the engineer;
“unless you can explain that which Spilett and I have until now failed
to understand.”
“Speak away, captain,” answered the sailor.
“Well, have you understood,” then said the engineer, “how was it that
after falling into the sea, I was found a quarter of a mile into the
interior of the island, and that, without my having any consciousness of
my removal there?”
“Unless, being unconscious--” said Pencroft.
“That is not admissible,” replied the engineer. “But to continue. Have
you understood how Top was able to discover your retreat five miles from
the cave in which I was lying?”
“The dog’s instinct--” observed Herbert.
“Singular instinct!” returned the reporter, “since notwithstanding the
storm of rain and wind which was raging during that night, Top arrived
at the Chimneys, dry and without a speck of mud!”
“Let us continue,” resumed the engineer. “Have you understood how our
dog was so strangely thrown up out of the water of the lake, after his
struggle with the dugong?”
“No! I confess, not at all,” replied Pencroft, “and the wound which the
dugong had in its side, a wound which seemed to have been made with a
sharp instrument; that can’t be understood, either.”
“Let us continue again,” said Harding. “Have you understood, my friends,
how that bullet got into the body of the young peccary; how that case
happened to be so fortunately stranded, without there being any trace
of a wreck; how that bottle containing the document presented itself
so opportunely, during our first sea-excursion; how our canoe, having
broken its moorings, floated down the current of the Mercy and rejoined
us at the very moment we needed it; how after the ape invasion the
ladder was so obligingly thrown down from Granite House; and lastly, how
the document, which Ayrton asserts was never written by him, fell into
our hands?”
As Cyrus Harding thus enumerated, without forgetting one, the singular
incidents which had occurred in the island, Herbert, Neb, and Pencroft
stared at each other, not knowing what to reply, for this succession of
incidents, grouped thus for the first time, could not but excite their
surprise to the highest degree.
“‘Pon my word,” said Pencroft at last, “you are right, captain, and it
is difficult to explain all these things!”
“Well, my friends,” resumed the engineer, “a last fact has just been
added to these, and it is no less incomprehensible than the others!”
“What is it, captain?” asked Herbert quickly.
“When you were returning from Tabor Island, Pencroft,” continued the
engineer, “you said that a fire appeared on Lincoln Island?”
“Certainly,” answered the sailor.
“And you are quite certain of having seen this fire?”
“As sure as I see you now.”
“You also, Herbert?”
“Why, captain,” cried Herbert, “that fire was blazing like a star of the
first magnitude!”
“But was it not a star?” urged the engineer.
“No,” replied Pencroft, “for the sky was covered with thick clouds, and
at any rate a star would not have been so low on the horizon. But Mr.
Spilett saw it as well as we, and he will confirm our words.”
“I will add,” said the reporter, “that the fire was very bright, and
that it shot up like a sheet of lightning.”
“Yes, yes! exactly,” added Herbert, “and it was certainly placed on the
heights of Granite House.”
“Well, my friends,” replied Cyrus Harding, “during the night of the 19th
of October, neither Neb nor I lighted any fire on the coast.”
“You did not!” exclaimed Pencroft, in the height of his astonishment,
not being able to finish his sentence.
“We did not leave Granite House,” answered Cyrus Harding, “and if a fire
appeared on the coast, it was lighted by another hand than ours!”
Pencroft, Herbert, and Neb were stupefied. No illusion could be
possible, and a fire had actually met their eyes during the night of the
19th of October. Yes! they had to acknowledge it, a mystery existed! An
inexplicable influence, evidently favorable to the colonists, but very
irritating to their curiosity, was executed always in the nick of time
on Lincoln Island. Could there be some being hidden in its profoundest
recesses? It was necessary at any cost to ascertain this.
Harding also reminded his companions of the singular behavior of Top and
Jup when they prowled round the mouth of the well, which placed Granite
House in communication with the sea, and he told them that he had
explored the well, without discovering anything suspicious. The final
resolve taken, in consequence of this conversation, by all the members
of the colony, was that as soon as the fine season returned they would
thoroughly search the whole of the island.
But from that day Pencroft appeared to be anxious. He felt as if the
island which he had made his own personal property belonged to him
entirely no longer, and that he shared it with another master, to
whom, willing or not, he felt subject. Neb and he often talked of those
unaccountable things, and both, their natures inclining them to the
marvelous, were not far from believing that Lincoln Island was under the
dominion of some supernatural power.
In the meanwhile, the bad weather came with the month of May, the
November of the northern zones. It appeared that the winter would
be severe and forward. The preparations for the winter season were
therefore commenced without delay.
Nevertheless, the colonists were well prepared to meet the winter,
however hard it might be. They had plenty of felt clothing, and the
musmons, very numerous by this time, had furnished an abundance of wool
necessary for the manufacture of this warm material.
It is unnecessary to say that Ayrton had been provided with this
comfortable clothing. Cyrus Harding proposed that he should come to
spend the bad season with them in Granite House, where he would be
better lodged than at the corral, and Ayrton promised to do so, as soon
as the last work at the corral was finished. He did this towards the
middle of April. From that time Ayrton shared the common life, and made
himself useful on all occasions; but still humble and sad, he never took
part in the pleasures of his companions.
For the greater part of this, the third winter which the settlers passed
in Lincoln Island, they were confined to Granite House. There were many
violent storms and frightful tempests, which appeared to shake the rocks
to their very foundations. Immense waves threatened to overwhelm the
island, and certainly any vessel anchored near the shore would have
been dashed to pieces. Twice, during one of these hurricanes, the Mercy
swelled to such a degree as to give reason to fear that the bridges
would be swept away, and it was necessary to strengthen those on the
shore, which disappeared under the foaming waters, when the sea beat
against the beach.
It may well be supposed that such storms, comparable to water-spouts in
which were mingled rain and snow, would cause great havoc on the
plateau of Prospect Heights. The mill and the poultry-yard particularly
suffered. The colonists were often obliged to make immediate repairs,
without which the safety of the birds would have been seriously
threatened.
During the worst weather, several jaguars and troops of quadrumana
ventured to the edge of the plateau, and it was always to be feared that
the most active and audacious would, urged by hunger, manage to cross
the stream, which besides, when frozen, offered them an easy passage.
Plantations and domestic animals would then have been infallibly
destroyed, without a constant watch, and it was often necessary to
make use of the guns to keep those dangerous visitors at a respectful
distance. Occupation was not wanting to the colonists, for without
reckoning their out-door cares, they had always a thousand plans for the
fitting up of Granite House.
They had also some fine sporting excursions, which were made during the
frost in the vast Tadorn Marsh. Gideon Spilett and Herbert, aided by
Jup and Top, did not miss a shot in the midst of myriads of wild-duck,
snipe, teal, and others. The access to these hunting-grounds was easy;
besides, whether they reached them by the road to Port Balloon, after
having passed the Mercy Bridge, or by turning the rocks from Flotsam
Point, the hunters were never distant from Granite House more than two
or three miles.
Thus passed the four winter months, which were really rigorous, that is
to say, June, July, August, and September. But, in short, Granite House
did not suffer much from the inclemency of the weather, and it was
the same with the corral, which, less exposed than the plateau, and
sheltered partly by Mount Franklin, only received the remains of the
hurricanes, already broken by the forests and the high rocks of the
shore. The damages there were consequently of small importance, and the
activity and skill of Ayrton promptly repaired them, when some time in
October he returned to pass a few days in the corral.
During this winter, no fresh inexplicable incident occurred. Nothing
strange happened, although Pencroft and Neb were on the watch for the
most insignificant facts to which they attached any mysterious cause.
Top and Jup themselves no longer growled round the well or gave any
signs of uneasiness. It appeared, therefore, as if the series of
supernatural incidents was interrupted, although they often talked of
them during the evenings in Granite House, and they remained thoroughly
resolved that the island should be searched, even in those parts the
most difficult to explore. But an event of the highest importance, and
of which the consequences might be terrible, momentarily diverted from
their projects Cyrus Harding and his companions.
It was the month of October. The fine season was swiftly returning.
Nature was reviving; and among the evergreen foliage of the coniferae
which formed the border of the wood, already appeared the young leaves
of the banksias, deodars, and other trees.
It may be remembered that Gideon Spilett and Herbert had, at different
times, taken photographic views of Lincoln Island.
Now, on the 17th of this month of October, towards three o’clock in
the afternoon, Herbert, enticed by the charms of the sky, thought of
reproducing Union Bay, which was opposite to Prospect Heights, from Cape
Mandible to Claw Cape.
The horizon was beautifully clear, and the sea, undulating under a soft
breeze, was as calm as the waters of a lake, sparkling here and there
under the sun’s rays.
The apparatus had been placed at one of the windows of the dining-room
at Granite House, and consequently overlooked the shore and the bay.
Herbert proceeded as he was accustomed to do, and the negative obtained,
he went away to fix it by means of the chemicals deposited in a dark
nook of Granite House.
Returning to the bright light, and examining it well, Herbert perceived
on his negative an almost imperceptible little spot on the sea horizon.
He endeavored to make it disappear by reiterated washing, but could not
accomplish it.
“It is a flaw in the glass,” he thought.
And then he had the curiosity to examine this flaw with a strong
magnifier which he unscrewed from one of the telescopes.
But he had scarcely looked at it, when he uttered a cry, and the glass
almost fell from his hands.
Immediately running to the room in which Cyrus Harding then was, he
extended the negative and magnifier towards the engineer, pointing out
the little spot.
Harding examined it; then seizing his telescope he rushed to the window.
The telescope, after having slowly swept the horizon, at last stopped on
the looked-for spot, and Cyrus Harding, lowering it, pronounced one word
only,--
“A vessel!”
And in fact a vessel was in sight, off Lincoln Island!
PART 3
THE SECRET OF THE ISLAND
Chapter 1
It was now two years and a half since the castaways from the balloon had
been thrown on Lincoln Island, and during that period there had been no
communication between them and their fellow-creatures. Once the reporter
had attempted to communicate with the inhabited world by confiding to
a bird a letter which contained the secret of their situation, but that
was a chance on which it was impossible to reckon seriously. Ayrton,
alone, under the circumstances which have been related, had come to
join the little colony. Now, suddenly, on this day, the 17th of October,
other men had unexpectedly appeared in sight of the island, on that
deserted sea!
There could be no doubt about it! A vessel was there! But would she
pass on, or would she put into port? In a few hours the colonists would
definitely know what to expect.
Cyrus Harding and Herbert having immediately called Gideon Spilett,
Pencroft, and Neb into the dining-room of Granite House, told them
what had happened. Pencroft, seizing the telescope, rapidly swept the
horizon, and stopping on the indicated point, that is to say, on
that which had made the almost imperceptible spot on the photographic
negative,--
“I’m blessed but it is really a vessel!” he exclaimed, in a voice which
did not express any great amount of satisfaction.
“Is she coming here?” asked Gideon Spilett.
“Impossible to say anything yet,” answered Pencroft, “for her rigging
alone is above the horizon, and not a bit of her hull can be seen.”
“What is to be done?” asked the lad.
“Wait,” replied Harding.
And for a considerable time the settlers remained silent, given up to
all the thoughts, and the emotions, all the fears, all the hopes, which
were aroused by this incident--the most important which had occurred
since their arrival in Lincoln Island. Certainly, the colonists were not
in the situation of castaways abandoned on a sterile islet, constantly
contending against a cruel nature for their miserable existence, and
incessantly tormented by the longing to return to inhabited countries.
Pencroft and Neb, especially, who felt themselves at once so happy and
so rich, would not have left their island without regret. They were
accustomed, besides, to this new life in the midst of the domain which
their intelligence had as it were civilized. But at any rate this ship
brought news from the world, perhaps even from their native land. It was
bringing fellow-creatures to them, and it may be conceived how deeply
their hearts were moved at the sight!
From time to time Pencroft took the glass and rested himself at the
window. From thence he very attentively examined the vessel, which was
at a distance of twenty miles to the east. The colonists had as yet,
therefore, no means of signalizing their presence. A flag would not have
been perceived; a gun would not have been heard; a fire would not have
been visible. However, it was certain that the island, overtopped by
Mount Franklin, could not escape the notice of the vessel’s lookout. But
why was the ship coming there? Was it simple chance which brought it to
that part of the Pacific, where the maps mentioned no land except Tabor
Island, which itself was out of the route usually followed by vessels
from the Polynesian Archipelagoes, from New Zealand, and from the
American coast? To this question, which each one asked himself, a reply
was suddenly made by Herbert.
“Can it be the ‘Duncan’?” he cried.
The “Duncan,” as has been said, was Lord Glenarvan’s yacht, which had
left Ayrton on the islet, and which was to return there someday to fetch
him. Now, the islet was not so far distant from Lincoln Island, but
that a vessel, standing for the one, could pass in sight of the other. A
hundred and fifty miles only separated them in longitude, and seventy in
latitude.
“We must tell Ayrton,” said Gideon Spilett, “and send for him
immediately. He alone can say if it is the ‘Duncan.’”
This was the opinion of all, and the reporter, going to the telegraphic
apparatus which placed the corral in communication with Granite House,
sent this telegram:--“Come with all possible speed.”
In a few minutes the bell sounded.
“I am coming,” replied Ayrton.
Then the settlers continued to watch the vessel.
“If it is the ‘Duncan,’” said Herbert, “Ayrton will recognize her
without difficulty, since he sailed on board her for some time.”
“And if he recognizes her,” added Pencroft, “it will agitate him
exceedingly!”
“Yes,” answered Cyrus Harding; “but now Ayrton is worthy to return on
board the ‘Duncan,’ and pray Heaven that it is indeed Lord Glenarvan’s
yacht, for I should be suspicious of any other vessel. These are
ill-famed seas, and I have always feared a visit from Malay pirates to
our island.”
“We could defend it,’, cried Herbert.
“No doubt, my boy,” answered the engineer smiling, “but it would be
better not to have to defend it.”
“A useless observation,” said Spilett. “Lincoln Island is unknown to
navigators, since it is not marked even on the most recent maps. Do
you think, Cyrus, that that is a sufficient motive for a ship, finding
herself unexpectedly in sight of new land, to try and visit rather than
avoid it?”
“Certainly,” replied Pencroft.
“I think so too,” added the engineer. “It may even be said that it is
the duty of a captain to come and survey any land or island not yet
known, and Lincoln Island is in this position.”
“Well,” said Pencroft, “suppose this vessel comes and anchors there a
few cables-lengths from our island, what shall we do?”
This sudden question remained at first without any reply. But Cyrus
Harding, after some moments’ thought, replied in the calm tone which was
usual to him,--
“What we shall do, my friends? What we ought to do is this:--we will
communicate with the ship, we will take our passage on board her, and we
will leave our island, after having taken possession of it in the name
of the United States. Then we will return with any who may wish to
follow us to colonize it definitely, and endow the American Republic
with a useful station in this part of the Pacific Ocean!”
“Hurrah!” exclaimed Pencroft, “and that will be no small present
which we shall make to our country! The colonization is already almost
finished; names are given to every part of the island; there is
a natural port, fresh water, roads, a telegraph, a dockyard, and
manufactories; and there will be nothing to be done but to inscribe
Lincoln Island on the maps!”
“But if anyone seizes it in our absence?” observed Gideon Spilett.
“Hang it!” cried the sailor. “I would rather remain all alone to guard
it: and trust to Pencroft, they shouldn’t steal it from him, like a
watch from the pocket of a swell!”
For an hour it was impossible to say with any certainty whether the
vessel was or was not standing towards Lincoln Island. She was
nearer, but in what direction was she sailing? This Pencroft could not
determine. However, as the wind was blowing from the northeast, in all
probability the vessel was sailing on the starboard tack. Besides, the
wind was favorable for bringing her towards the island, and, the sea
being calm, she would not be afraid to approach although the shallows
were not marked on the chart.
Towards four o’clock--an hour after he had been sent for--Ayrton arrived
at Granite House. He entered the dining-room saying,--
“At your service, gentlemen.”
Cyrus Harding gave him his hand, as was his custom to do, and, leading
him to the window,--
“Ayrton,” said he, “we have begged you to come here for an important
reason. A ship is in sight of the island.”
Ayrton at first paled slightly, and for a moment his eyes became dim;
then, leaning out the window, he surveyed the horizon, but could see
nothing.
“Take this telescope,” said Spilett, “and look carefully, Ayrton, for
it is possible that this ship may be the ‘Duncan’ come to these seas for
the purpose of taking you home again.”
“The ‘Duncan!’” murmured Ayrton. “Already?” This last word escaped
Ayrton’s lips as if involuntarily, and his head drooped upon his hands.
Did not twelve years’ solitude on a desert island appear to him a
sufficient expiation? Did not the penitent yet feel himself pardoned,
either in his own eyes or in the eyes of others?
“No,” said he, “no! it cannot be the ‘Duncan’!”
“Look, Ayrton,” then said the engineer, “for it is necessary that we
should know beforehand what to expect.”
Ayrton took the glass and pointed it in the direction indicated. During
some minutes he examined the horizon without moving, without uttering a
word. Then,--
“It is indeed a vessel,” said he, “but I do not think she is the
‘Duncan.’”
“Why do you not think so?” asked Gideon Spilett.
“Because the ‘Duncan’ is a steam-yacht, and I cannot perceive any trace
of smoke either above or near that vessel.”
“Perhaps she is simply sailing,” observed Pencroft. “The wind is
favorable for the direction which she appears to be taking, and she may
be anxious to economize her coal, being so far from land.”
“It is possible that you may be right, Mr. Pencroft,” answered Ayrton,
“and that the vessel has extinguished her fires. We must wait until she
is nearer, and then we shall soon know what to expect.”
So saying, Ayrton sat down in a corner of the room and remained silent.
The colonists again discussed the strange ship, but Ayrton took no
part in the conversation. All were in such a mood that they found it
impossible to continue their work. Gideon Spilett and Pencroft were
particularly nervous, going, coming, not able to remain still in one
place. Herbert felt more curiosity. Neb alone maintained his usual
calm manner. Was not his country that where his master was? As to the
engineer, he remained plunged in deep thought, and in his heart feared
rather than desired the arrival of the ship. In the meanwhile, the
vessel was a little nearer the island. With the aid of the glass, it was
ascertained that she was a brig, and not one of those Malay proas, which
are generally used by the pirates of the Pacific. It was, therefore,
reasonable to believe that the engineer’s apprehensions would not be
justified, and that the presence of this vessel in the vicinity of the
island was fraught with no danger.
Pencroft, after a minute examination, was able positively to affirm that
the vessel was rigged as a brig, and that she was standing obliquely
towards the coast, on the starboard tack, under her topsails and
top-gallant-sails. This was confirmed by Ayrton. But by continuing in
this direction she must soon disappear behind Claw Cape, as the wind
was from the southwest, and to watch her it would be then necessary
to ascend the height of Washington Bay, near Port Balloon--a provoking
circumstance, for it was already five o’clock in the evening, and the
twilight would soon make any observation extremely difficult.
“What shall we do when night comes on?” asked Gideon Spilett. “Shall we
light a fire, so as to signal our presence on the coast?”
This was a serious question, and yet, although the engineer still
retained some of his presentiments, it was answered in the affirmative.
During the night the ship might disappear and leave for ever, and, this
ship gone, would another ever return to the waters of Lincoln Island?
Who could foresee what the future would then have in store for the
colonists?
“Yes,” said the reporter, “we ought to make known to that vessel,
whoever she may be, that the island is inhabited. To neglect the
opportunity which is offered to us might be to create everlasting
regrets.”
It was therefore decided that Neb and Pencroft should go to Port
Balloon, and that there, at nightfall, they should light an immense
fire, the blaze of which would necessarily attract the attention of the
brig.
But at the moment when Neb and the sailor were preparing to leave
Granite House, the vessel suddenly altered her course, and stood
directly for Union Bay. The brig was a good sailer, for she approached
rapidly. Neb and Pencroft put off their departure, therefore, and the
glass was put into Ayrton’s hands, that he might ascertain for certain
whether the ship was or was not the “Duncan.” The Scotch yacht was also
rigged as a brig. The question was, whether a chimney could be discerned
between the two masts of the vessel, which was now at a distance of only
five miles.
The horizon was still very clear. The examination was easy, and Ayrton
soon let the glass fall again, saying--
“It is not the ‘Duncan’! It could not be!”
Pencroft again brought the brig within the range of the telescope, and
could see that she was of between three and four hundred tons burden,
wonderfully narrow, well-masted, admirably built, and must be a very
rapid sailer. But to what nation did she belong? That was difficult to
say.
“And yet,” added the sailor, “a flag is floating from her peak, but I
cannot distinguish the colors of it.”
“In half an hour we shall be certain about that,” answered the reporter.
“Besides, it is very evident that the intention of the captain of this
ship is to land, and, consequently, if not today, to-morrow at the
latest, we shall make his acquaintance.”
“Never mind!” said Pencroft. “It is best to know whom we have to deal
with, and I shall not be sorry to recognize that fellow’s colors!”
And, while thus speaking, the sailor never left the glass. The day began
to fade, and with the day the breeze fell also. The brig’s ensign hung
in folds, and it became more and more difficult to observe it.
“It is not the American flag,” said Pencroft from time to time, “nor the
English, the red of which could be easily seen, nor the French or German
colors, nor the white flag of Russia, nor the yellow of Spain. One would
say it was all one color. Let’s see: in these seas, what do we generally
meet with? The Chilean flag?--but that is tri-color. Brazilian?--it is
green. Japanese?--it is yellow and black, while this--”
At that moment the breeze blew out the unknown flag. Ayrton seizing the
telescope which the sailor had put down, put it to his eye, and in a
hoarse voice,--
“The black flag!” he exclaimed.
And indeed the somber bunting was floating from the mast of the brig,
and they had now good reason for considering her to be a suspicious
vessel!
Had the engineer, then, been right in his presentiments? Was this a
pirate vessel? Did she scour the Pacific, competing with the Malay proas
which still infest it? For what had she come to look at the shores of
Lincoln Island? Was it to them an unknown island, ready to become
a magazine for stolen cargoes? Had she come to find on the coast a
sheltered port for the winter months? Was the settlers’ honest domain
destined to be transformed into an infamous refuge--the headquarters of
the piracy of the Pacific?
All these ideas instinctively presented themselves to the colonists’
imaginations. There was no doubt, besides, of the signification which
must be attached to the color of the hoisted flag. It was that of
pirates! It was that which the “Duncan” would have carried, had the
convicts succeeded in their criminal design! No time was lost before
discussing it.
“My friends,” said Cyrus Harding, “perhaps this vessel only wishes to
survey the coast of the island. Perhaps her crew will not land. There is
a chance of it. However that may be, we ought to do everything we can to
hide our presence here. The windmill on Prospect Heights is too easily
seen. Let Ayrton and Neb go and take down the sails. We must also
conceal the windows of Granite House with thick branches. All the fires
must be extinguished, so that nothing may betray the presence of men on
the island.”
“And our vessel?” said Herbert.
“Oh,” answered Pencroft, “she is sheltered in Port Balloon, and I defy
any of those rascals there to find her!”
The engineer’s orders were immediately executed. Neb and Ayrton
ascended the plateau, and took the necessary precautions to conceal
any indication of a settlement. While they were thus occupied, their
companions went to the border of Jacamar Wood, and brought back a large
quantity of branches and creepers, which would at some distance appear
as natural foliage, and thus disguise the windows in the granite cliff.
At the same time, the ammunition and guns were placed ready so as to be
at hand in case of an unexpected attack.
When all these precautions had been taken,--
“My friends,” said Harding, and his voice betrayed some emotion, “if the
wretches endeavor to seize Lincoln Island, we shall defend it--shall we
not?”
“Yes, Cyrus,” replied the reporter, “and if necessary we will die to
defend it!”
The engineer extended his hand to his companions, who pressed it warmly.
Ayrton remained in his corner, not joining the colonists. Perhaps he,
the former convict, still felt himself unworthy to do so!
Cyrus Harding understood what was passing in Ayrton’s mind, and going to
him--
“And you, Ayrton,” he asked, “what will you do?”
“My duty,” answered Ayrton.
He then took up his station near the window and gazed through the
foliage.
It was now half-past seven. The sun had disappeared twenty minutes ago
behind Granite House. Consequently the Eastern horizon was becoming
obscured. In the meanwhile the brig continued to advance towards Union
Bay. She was now not more than two miles off, and exactly opposite the
plateau of Prospect Heights, for after having tacked off Claw Cape, she
had drifted towards the north in the current of the rising tide. One
might have said that at this distance she had already entered the vast
bay, for a straight line drawn from Claw Cape to Cape Mandible would
have rested on her starboard quarter.
Was the brig about to penetrate far into the bay? That was the first
question. When once in the bay, would she anchor there? That was the
second. Would she not content herself with only surveying the coast, and
stand out to sea again without landing her crew? They would know this in
an hour. The colonists could do nothing but wait.
Cyrus Harding had not seen the suspected vessel hoist the black flag
without deep anxiety. Was it not a direct menace against the work which
he and his companions had till now conducted so successfully? Had these
pirates--for the sailors of the brig could be nothing else--already
visited the island, since on approaching it they had hoisted their
colors. Had they formerly invaded it, so that certain unaccountable
peculiarities might be explained in this way? Did there exist in the as
yet unexplored parts some accomplice ready to enter into communication
with them?
To all these questions which he mentally asked himself, Harding knew not
what to reply; but he felt that the safety of the colony could not but
be seriously threatened by the arrival of the brig.
However, he and his companions were determined to fight to the last
gasp. It would have been very important to know if the pirates
were numerous and better armed than the colonists. But how was this
information to be obtained?
Night fell. The new moon had disappeared. Profound darkness enveloped
the island and the sea. No light could pierce through the heavy piles
of clouds on the horizon. The wind had died away completely with the
twilight. Not a leaf rustled on the trees, not a ripple murmured on
the shore. Nothing could be seen of the ship, all her lights being
extinguished, and if she was still in sight of the island, her
whereabouts could not be discovered.
“Well! who knows?” said Pencroft. “Perhaps that cursed craft will stand
off during the night, and we shall see nothing of her at daybreak.”
As if in reply to the sailor’s observation, a bright light flashed in
the darkness, and a cannon-shot was heard.
The vessel was still there and had guns on board.
Six seconds elapsed between the flash and the report.
Therefore the brig was about a mile and a quarter from the coast.
At the same time, the chains were heard rattling through the
hawse-holes.
The vessel had just anchored in sight of Granite House!
Chapter 2
There was no longer any doubt as to the pirates’ intentions. They had
dropped anchor at a short distance from the island, and it was evident
that the next day by means of their boats they purposed to land on the
beach!
Cyrus Harding and his companions were ready to act, but, determined
though they were, they must not forget to be prudent. Perhaps their
presence might still be concealed in the event of the pirates contenting
themselves with landing on the shore without examining the interior of
the island. It might be, indeed, that their only intention was to obtain
fresh water from the Mercy, and it was not impossible that the bridge,
thrown across a mile and a half from the mouth, and the manufactory at
the Chimneys might escape their notice.
But why was that flag hoisted at the brig’s peak? What was that shot
fired for? Pure bravado doubtless, unless it was a sign of the act of
taking possession. Harding knew now that the vessel was well armed. And
what had the colonists of Lincoln Island to reply to the pirates’ guns?
A few muskets only.
“However,” observed Cyrus Harding, “here we are in an impregnable
position. The enemy cannot discover the mouth of the outlet, now that it
is hidden under reeds and grass, and consequently it would be impossible
for them to penetrate into Granite House.”
“But our plantations, our poultry-yard, our corral, all, everything!”
exclaimed Pencroft, stamping his foot. “They may spoil everything,
destroy everything in a few hours!”
“Everything, Pencroft,” answered Harding, “and we have no means of
preventing them.”
“Are they numerous? that is the question,” said the reporter. “If they
are not more than a dozen, we shall be able to stop them, but forty,
fifty, more perhaps!”
“Captain Harding,” then said Ayrton, advancing towards the engineer,
“will you give me leave?”
“For what, my friend?”
“To go to that vessel to find out the strength of her crew.”
“But Ayrton--” answered the engineer, hesitating, “you will risk your
life--”
“Why not, sir?”
“That is more than your duty.”
“I have more than my duty to do,” replied Ayrton.
“Will you go to the ship in the boat?” asked Gideon Spilett.
“No, sir, but I will swim. A boat would be seen where a man may glide
between wind and water.”
“Do you know that the brig is a mile and a quarter from the shore?” said
Herbert.
“I am a good swimmer, Mr. Herbert.”
“I tell you it is risking your life,” said the engineer.
“That is no matter,” answered Ayrton. “Captain Harding, I ask this as a
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