favor. Perhaps it will be a means of raising me in my own eyes!”
“Go, Ayrton,” replied the engineer, who felt sure that a refusal would
have deeply wounded the former convict, now become an honest man.
“I will accompany you,” said Pencroft.
“You mistrust me!” said Ayrton quickly.
Then more humbly,--
“Alas!”
“No! no!” exclaimed Harding with animation, “no, Ayrton, Pencroft does
not mistrust you. You interpret his words wrongly.”
“Indeed,” returned the sailor, “I only propose to accompany Ayrton as
far as the islet. It may be, although it is scarcely possible, that one
of these villains has landed, and in that case two men will not be too
many to hinder him from giving the alarm. I will wait for Ayrton on the
islet, and he shall go alone to the vessel, since he has proposed to do
so.” These things agreed to, Ayrton made preparations for his departure.
His plan was bold, but it might succeed, thanks to the darkness of the
night. Once arrived at the vessel’s side, Ayrton, holding on to the main
chains, might reconnoiter the number and perhaps overhear the intentions
of the pirates.
Ayrton and Pencroft, followed by their companions, descended to the
beach. Ayrton undressed and rubbed himself with grease, so as to suffer
less from the temperature of the water, which was still cold. He might,
indeed, be obliged to remain in it for several hours.
Pencroft and Neb, during this time, had gone to fetch the boat, moored
a few hundred feet higher up, on the bank of the Mercy, and by the time
they returned, Ayrton was ready to start. A coat was thrown over his
shoulders, and the settlers all came round him to press his hand.
Ayrton then shoved off with Pencroft in the boat.
It was half-past ten in the evening when the two adventurers disappeared
in the darkness. Their companions returned to wait at the Chimneys.
The channel was easily traversed, and the boat touched the opposite
shore of the islet. This was not done without precaution, for fear lest
the pirates might be roaming about there. But after a careful survey,
it was evident that the islet was deserted. Ayrton then, followed by
Pencroft, crossed it with a rapid step, scaring the birds nestled in the
holes of the rocks; then, without hesitating, he plunged into the sea,
and swam noiselessly in the direction of the ship, in which a few lights
had recently appeared, showing her exact situation. As to Pencroft,
he crouched down in a cleft of the rock, and awaited the return of his
companion.
In the meanwhile, Ayrton, swimming with a vigorous stroke, glided
through the sheet of water without producing the slightest ripple. His
head just emerged above it and his eyes were fixed on the dark hull of
the brig, from which the lights were reflected in the water. He thought
only of the duty which he had promised to accomplish, and nothing of the
danger which he ran, not only on board the ship, but in the sea, often
frequented by sharks. The current bore him along and he rapidly receded
from the shore.
Half an hour afterwards, Ayrton, without having been either seen or
heard, arrived at the ship and caught hold of the main-chains. He took
breath, then, hoisting himself up, he managed to reach the extremity of
the cutwater. There were drying several pairs of sailors’ trousers. He
put on a pair. Then settling himself firmly, he listened. They were not
sleeping on board the brig. On the contrary, they were talking, singing,
laughing. And these were the sentences, accompanied with oaths, which
principally struck Ayrton:--
“Our brig is a famous acquisition.”
“She sails well, and merits her name of the ‘Speedy.’”
“She would show all the navy of Norfolk a clean pair of heels.”
“Hurrah for her captain!”
“Hurrah for Bob Harvey!”
What Ayrton felt when he overheard this fragment of conversation may be
understood when it is known that in this Bob Harvey he recognized one
of his old Australian companions, a daring sailor, who had continued his
criminal career. Bob Harvey had seized, on the shores of Norfolk Island
this brig, which was loaded with arms, ammunition, utensils, and tools
of all sorts, destined for one of the Sandwich Islands. All his gang had
gone on board, and pirates after having been convicts, these wretches,
more ferocious than the Malays themselves, scoured the Pacific,
destroying vessels, and massacring their crews.
The convicts spoke loudly, they recounted their deeds, drinking deeply
at the same time, and this is what Ayrton gathered. The actual crew
of the “Speedy” was composed solely of English prisoners, escaped from
Norfolk Island.
Here it may be well to explain what this island was. In 29deg 2’ south
latitude, and 165deg 42’ east longitude, to the east of Australia, is
found a little island, six miles in circumference, overlooked by Mount
Pitt, which rises to a height of 1,100 feet above the level of the sea.
This is Norfolk Island, once the seat of an establishment in which were
lodged the most intractable convicts from the English penitentiaries.
They numbered 500, under an iron discipline, threatened with terrible
punishments, and were guarded by 150 soldiers, and 150 employed
under the orders of the governor. It would be difficult to imagine
a collection of greater ruffians. Sometimes,--although very
rarely,--notwithstanding the extreme surveillance of which they were
the object, many managed to escape, and seizing vessels which they
surprised, they infested the Polynesian Archipelagoes.
Thus had Bob Harvey and his companions done. Thus had Ayrton formerly
wished to do. Bob Harvey had seized the brig “Speedy,” anchored in sight
of Norfolk Island; the crew had been massacred; and for a year this ship
had scoured the Pacific, under the command of Harvey, now a pirate, and
well known to Ayrton!
The convicts were, for the most part, assembled under the poop; but a
few, stretched on the deck, were talking loudly.
The conversation still continued amid shouts and libations. Ayrton
learned that chance alone had brought the “Speedy” in sight of Lincoln
Island; Bob Harvey had never yet set foot on it; but, as Cyrus Harding
had conjectured, finding this unknown land in his course, its position
being marked on no chart, he had formed the project of visiting it, and,
if he found it suitable, of making it the brig’s headquarters.
As to the black flag hoisted at the “Speedy’s” peak, and the gun which
had been fired, in imitation of men-of-war when they lower their
colors, it was pure piratical bravado. It was in no way a signal, and no
communication yet existed between the convicts and Lincoln Island.
The settlers’ domain was now menaced with terrible danger. Evidently
the island, with its water, its harbor, its resources of all kinds so
increased in value by the colonists, and the concealment afforded by
Granite House, could not but be convenient for the convicts; in their
hands it would become an excellent place of refuge, and, being unknown,
it would assure them, for a long time perhaps, impunity and security.
Evidently, also, the lives of the settlers would not be respected, and
Bob Harvey and his accomplices’ first care would be to massacre them
without mercy. Harding and his companions had, therefore, not even the
choice of flying and hiding themselves in the island, since the convicts
intended to reside there, and since, in the event of the “Speedy”
departing on an expedition, it was probable that some of the crew would
remain on shore, so as to settle themselves there. Therefore, it
would be necessary to fight, to destroy every one of these scoundrels,
unworthy of pity, and against whom any means would be right. So thought
Ayrton, and he well knew that Cyrus Harding would be of his way of
thinking.
But was resistance and, in the last place, victory possible? That would
depend on the equipment of the brig, and the number of men which she
carried.
This Ayrton resolved to learn at any cost, and as an hour after his
arrival the vociferations had begun to die away, and as a large number
of the convicts were already buried in a drunken sleep, Ayrton did not
hesitate to venture onto the “Speedy’s” deck, which the extinguished
lanterns now left in total darkness. He hoisted himself onto the
cutwater, and by the bowsprit arrived at the forecastle. Then, gliding
among the convicts stretched here and there, he made the round of the
ship, and found that the “Speedy” carried four guns, which would throw
shot of from eight to ten pounds in weight. He found also, on touching
them that these guns were breech-loaders. They were therefore, of modern
make, easily used, and of terrible effect.
As to the men lying on the deck, they were about ten in number, but
it was to be supposed that more were sleeping down below. Besides, by
listening to them, Ayrton had understood that there were fifty on
board. That was a large number for the six settlers of Lincoln Island to
contend with! But now, thanks to Ayrton’s devotion, Cyrus Harding would
not be surprised, he would know the strength of his adversaries, and
would make his arrangements accordingly.
There was nothing more for Ayrton to do but to return, and render to his
companions an account of the mission with which he had charged himself,
and he prepared to regain the bows of the brig, so that he might let
himself down into the water. But to this man, whose wish was, as he had
said, to do more than his duty, there came an heroic thought. This was
to sacrifice his own life, but save the island and the colonists. Cyrus
Harding evidently could not resist fifty ruffians, all well armed, who,
either by penetrating by main force into Granite House, or by starving
out the besieged, could obtain from them what they wanted. And then he
thought of his preservers--those who had made him again a man, and an
honest mm, those to whom he owed all--murdered without pity, their works
destroyed, their island turned into a pirates’ den! He said to himself
that he, Ayrton, was the principal cause of so many disasters, since his
old companion, Bob Harvey, had but realized his own plans, and a
feeling of horror took possession of him. Then he was seized with an
irresistible desire to blow up the brig and with her, all whom she had
on board. He would perish in the explosion, but he would have done his
duty.
Ayrton did not hesitate. To reach the powder-room, which is always
situated in the after-part of a vessel, was easy. There would be no want
of powder in a vessel which followed such a trade, and a spark would be
enough to destroy it in an instant.
Ayrton stole carefully along the between-decks, strewn with numerous
sleepers, overcome more by drunkenness than sleep. A lantern was lighted
at the foot of the mainmast, round which was hung a gun-rack, furnished
with weapons of all sorts.
Ayrton took a revolver from the rack, and assured himself that it was
loaded and primed. Nothing more was needed to accomplish the work of
destruction. He then glided towards the stern, so as to arrive under the
brig’s poop at the powder-magazine.
It was difficult to proceed along the dimly lighted deck without
stumbling over some half-sleeping convict, who retorted by oaths and
kicks. Ayrton was, therefore, more than once obliged to halt. But at
last he arrived at the partition dividing the aftercabin, and found the
door opening into the magazine itself.
Ayrton, compelled to force it open, set to work. It was a difficult
operation to perform without noise, for he had to break a padlock. But
under his vigorous hand, the padlock broke, and the door was open.
At that moment a hand was laid on Ayrton’s shoulder.
“What are you doing here?” asked a tall man, in a harsh voice, who,
standing in the shadow, quickly threw the light of a lantern in Ayrton’s
face.
Ayrton drew back. In the rapid flash of the lantern, he had recognized
his former accomplice, Bob Harvey, who could not have known him, as he
must have thought Ayrton long since dead.
“What are you doing here?” again said Bob Harvey, seizing Ayrton by the
waistband.
But Ayrton, without replying, wrenched himself from his grasp and
attempted to rush into the magazine. A shot fired into the midst of the
powder-casks, and all would be over!
“Help, lads!” shouted Bob Harvey.
At his shout two or three pirates awoke, jumped up, and, rushing on
Ayrton, endeavored to throw him down. He soon extricated himself from
their grasp. He fired his revolver, and two of the convicts fell, but
a blow from a knife which he could not ward off made a gash in his
shoulder.
Ayrton perceived that he could no longer hope to carry out his project.
Bob Harvey had reclosed the door of the powder-magazine, and a movement
on the deck indicated a general awakening of the pirates. Ayrton must
reserve himself to fight at the side of Cyrus Harding. There was nothing
for him but flight!
But was flight still possible? It was doubtful, yet Ayrton resolved to
dare everything in order to rejoin his companions.
Four barrels of the revolver were still undischarged. Two were
fired--one, aimed at Bob Harvey, did not wound him, or at any rate
only slightly, and Ayrton, profiting by the momentary retreat of his
adversaries, rushed towards the companion-ladder to gain the deck.
Passing before the lantern, he smashed it with a blow from the butt of
his revolver. A profound darkness ensued, which favored his flight. Two
or three pirates, awakened by the noise, were descending the ladder at
the same moment.
A fifth shot from Ayrton laid one low, and the others drew back, not
understanding what was going on. Ayrton was on deck in two bounds, and
three seconds later, having discharged his last barrel in the face of
a pirate who was about to seize him by the throat, he leaped over the
bulwarks into the sea.
Ayrton had not made six strokes before shots were splashing around him
like hail.
What were Pencroft’s feelings, sheltered under a rock on the islet! What
were those of Harding, the reporter, Herbert, and Neb, crouched in the
Chimneys, when they heard the reports on board the brig! They rushed out
on to the beach, and, their guns shouldered, they stood ready to repel
any attack.
They had no doubt about it themselves! Ayrton, surprised by the pirates,
had been murdered, and, perhaps, the wretches would profit by the night
to make a descent on the island!
Half an hour was passed in terrible anxiety. The firing had ceased, and
yet neither Ayrton nor Pencroft had reappeared. Was the islet invaded?
Ought they not to fly to the help of Ayrton and Pencroft? But how? The
tide being high at that time, rendered the channel impassable. The boat
was not there! We may imagine the horrible anxiety which took possession
of Harding and his companions!
At last, towards half-past twelve, a boat, carrying two men, touched the
beach. It was Ayrton, slightly wounded in the shoulder, and Pencroft,
safe and sound, whom their friends received with open arms.
All immediately took refuge in the Chimneys. There Ayrton recounted all
that had passed, even to his plan for blowing up the brig, which he had
attempted to put into execution.
All hands were extended to Ayrton, who did not conceal from them that
their situation was serious. The pirates had been alarmed. They knew
that Lincoln Island was inhabited. They would land upon it in numbers
and well armed. They would respect nothing. Should the settlers fall
into their hands, they must expect no mercy!
“Well, we shall know how to die!” said the reporter.
“Let us go in and watch,” answered the engineer.
“Have we any chance of escape, captain?” asked the sailor.
“Yes, Pencroft.”
“Hum! six against fifty!”
“Yes! six! without counting--”
“Who?” asked Pencroft.
Cyrus did not reply, but pointed upwards.
Chapter 3
The night passed without incident. The colonists were on the qui vive,
and did not leave their post at the Chimneys. The pirates, on their
side, did not appear to have made any attempt to land. Since the last
shots fired at Ayrton not a report, not even a sound, had betrayed the
presence of the brig in the neighborhood of the island. It might have
been fancied that she had weighed anchor, thinking that she had to deal
with her match, and had left the coast.
But it was no such thing, and when day began to dawn the settlers could
see a confused mass through the morning mist. It was the “Speedy.”
“These, my friends,” said the engineer, “are the arrangements which
appear to me best to make before the fog completely clears away. It
hides us from the eyes of the pirates, and we can act without attracting
their attention. The most important thing is, that the convicts
should believe that the inhabitants of the island are numerous, and
consequently capable of resisting them. I therefore propose that we
divide into three parties. The first of which shall be posted at the
Chimneys, the second at the mouth of the Mercy. As to the third, I think
it would be best to place it on the islet, so as to prevent, or at all
events delay, any attempt at landing. We have the use of two rifles and
four muskets. Each of us will be armed, and, as we are amply provided
with powder and shot, we need not spare our fire. We have nothing to
fear from the muskets nor even from the guns of the brig. What can they
do against these rocks? And, as we shall not fire from the windows of
Granite House, the pirates will not think of causing irreparable damage
by throwing shell against it. What is to be feared is, the necessity of
meeting hand-to-hand, since the convicts have numbers on their side. We
must therefore try to prevent them from landing, but without discovering
ourselves. Therefore, do not economize the ammunition. Fire often, but
with a sure aim. We have each eight or ten enemies to kill, and they
must be killed!”
Cyrus Harding had clearly represented their situation, although he spoke
in the calmest voice, as if it was a question of directing a piece
of work and not ordering a battle. His companions approved these
arrangements without even uttering a word. There was nothing more to be
done but for each to take his place before the fog should be completely
dissipated. Neb and Pencroft immediately ascended to Granite House and
brought back a sufficient quantity of ammunition. Gideon Spilett and
Ayrton, both very good marksmen, were armed with the two rifles,
which carried nearly a mile. The four other muskets were divided among
Harding, Neb, Pencroft, and Herbert.
The posts were arranged in the following manner:--
Cyrus Harding and Herbert remained in ambush at the Chimneys, thus
commanding the shore to the foot of Granite House.
Gideon Spilett and Neb crouched among the rocks at the mouth of the
Mercy, from which the drawbridges had been raised, so as to prevent any
one from crossing in a boat or landing on the opposite shore.
As to Ayrton and Pencroft, they shoved off in the boat, and prepared to
cross the channel and to take up two separate stations on the islet.
In this way, shots being fired from four different points at once,
the convicts would be led to believe that the island was both largely
peopled and strongly defended.
In the event of a landing being effected without their having been able
to prevent it, and also if they saw that they were on the point of being
cut off by the brig’s boat, Ayrton and Pencroft were to return in their
boat to the shore and proceed towards the threatened spot.
Before starting to occupy their posts, the colonists for the last time
wrung each other’s hands.
Pencroft succeeded in controlling himself sufficiently to suppress his
emotion when he embraced Herbert, his boy! and then they separated.
In a few moments Harding and Herbert on one side, the reporter and Neb
on the other, had disappeared behind the rocks, and five minutes later
Ayrton and Pencroft, having without difficulty crossed the channel,
disembarked on the islet and concealed themselves in the clefts of its
eastern shore.
None of them could have been seen, for they themselves could scarcely
distinguish the brig in the fog.
It was half-past six in the morning.
Soon the fog began to clear away, and the topmasts of the brig issued
from the vapor. For some minutes great masses rolled over the surface of
the sea, then a breeze sprang up, which rapidly dispelled the mist.
The “Speedy” now appeared in full view, with a spring on her cable, her
head to the north, presenting her larboard side to the island. Just as
Harding had calculated, she was not more than a mile and a quarter from
the coast.
The sinister black flag floated from the peak.
The engineer, with his telescope, could see that the four guns on board
were pointed at the island. They were evidently ready to fire at a
moment’s notice.
In the meanwhile the “Speedy” remained silent. About thirty pirates
could be seen moving on the deck. A few more on the poop; two others
posted in the shrouds, and armed with spyglasses, were attentively
surveying the island.
Certainly, Bob Harvey and his crew would not be able easily to give an
account of what had happened during the night on board the brig. Had
this half-naked man, who had forced the door of the powder-magazine, and
with whom they had struggled, who had six times discharged his revolver
at them, who had killed one and wounded two others, escaped their shot?
Had he been able to swim to shore? Whence did he come? What had been his
object? Had his design really been to blow up the brig, as Bob Harvey
had thought? All this must be confused enough to the convicts’ minds.
But what they could no longer doubt was that the unknown island before
which the “Speedy” had cast anchor was inhabited, and that there was,
perhaps, a numerous colony ready to defend it. And yet no one was to be
seen, neither on the shore, nor on the heights. The beach appeared to be
absolutely deserted. At any rate, there was no trace of dwellings. Had
the inhabitants fled into the interior? Thus probably the pirate captain
reasoned, and doubtless, like a prudent man, he wished to reconnoiter
the locality before he allowed his men to venture there.
During an hour and a half, no indication of attack or landing could be
observed on board the brig. Evidently Bob Harvey was hesitating. Even
with his strongest telescopes he could not have perceived one of the
settlers crouched among the rocks. It was not even probable that his
attention had been awakened by the screen of green branches and creepers
hiding the windows of Granite House, and showing rather conspicuously on
the bare rock. Indeed, how could he imagine that a dwelling was hollowed
out, at that height, in the solid granite? From Claw Cape to the
Mandible Capes, in all the extent of Union Bay, there was nothing to
lead him to suppose that the island was or could be inhabited.
At eight o’clock, however, the colonists observed a movement on board
the “Speedy.” A boat was lowered, and seven men jumped into her. They
were armed with muskets; one took the yoke-lines, four others the oars,
and the two others, kneeling in the bows, ready to fire, reconnoitered
the island. Their object was no doubt to make an examination but not to
land, for in the latter case they would have come in larger numbers. The
pirates from their look-out could have seen that the coast was sheltered
by an islet, separated from it by a channel half a mile in width.
However, it was soon evident to Cyrus Harding, on observing the
direction followed by the boat, that they would not attempt to penetrate
into the channel, but would land on the islet.
Pencroft and Ayrton, each hidden in a narrow cleft of the rock, saw them
coming directly towards them, and waited till they were within range.
The boat advanced with extreme caution. The oars only dipped into the
water at long intervals. It could now be seen that one of the convicts
held a lead-line in his hand, and that he wished to fathom the depth of
the channel hollowed out by the current of the Mercy. This showed that
it was Bob Harvey’s intention to bring his brig as near as possible
to the coast. About thirty pirates, scattered in the rigging, followed
every movement of the boat, and took the bearings of certain landmarks
which would allow them to approach without danger. The boat was not more
than two cables-lengths off the islet when she stopped. The man at the
tiller stood up and looked for the best place at which to land.
At that moment two shots were heard. Smoke curled up from among the
rocks of the islet. The man at the helm and the man with the lead-line
fell backwards into the boat. Ayrton’s and Pencroft’s balls had struck
them both at the same moment.
Almost immediately a louder report was heard, a cloud of smoke issued
from the brig’s side, and a ball, striking the summit of the rock which
sheltered Ayrton and Pencroft, made it fly in splinters, but the two
marksmen remained unhurt.
Horrible imprecations burst from the boat, which immediately continued
its way. The man who had been at the tiller was replaced by one of his
comrades, and the oars were rapidly plunged into the water. However,
instead of returning on board as might have been expected, the boat
coasted along the islet, so as to round its southern point. The pirates
pulled vigorously at their oars that they might get out of range of the
bullets.
They advanced to within five cables-lengths of that part of the
shore terminated by Flotsam Point, and after having rounded it in a
semicircular line, still protected by the brig’s guns, they proceeded
towards the mouth of the Mercy.
Their evident intention was to penetrate into the channel, and cut off
the colonists posted on the islet, in such a way, that whatever their
number might be, being placed between the fire from the boat and the
fire from the brig, they would find themselves in a very disadvantageous
position.
A quarter of an hour passed while the boat advanced in this direction.
Absolute silence, perfect calm reigned in the air and on the water.
Pencroft and Ayrton, although they knew they ran the risk of being
cut off, had not left their post, both that they did not wish to show
themselves as yet to their assailants, and expose themselves to the
“Speedy’s” guns, and that they relied on Neb and Gideon Spilett,
watching at the mouth of the river, and on Cyrus Harding and Herbert, in
ambush among the rocks at the Chimneys.
Twenty minutes after the first shots were fired, the boat was less than
two cables-lengths off the Mercy. As the tide was beginning to rise with
its accustomed violence, caused by the narrowness of the straits, the
pirates were drawn towards the river, and it was only by dint of hard
rowing that they were able to keep in the middle of the channel. But, as
they were passing within good range of the mouth of the Mercy, two balls
saluted them, and two more of their number were laid in the bottom of
the boat. Neb and Spilett had not missed their aim.
The brig immediately sent a second ball on the post betrayed by the
smoke, but without any other result than that of splintering the rock.
The boat now contained only three able men. Carried on by the current,
it shot through the channel with the rapidity of an arrow, passed before
Harding and Herbert, who, not thinking it within range, withheld their
fire, then, rounding the northern point of the islet with the two
remaining oars, they pulled towards the brig.
Hitherto the settlers had nothing to complain of. Their adversaries
had certainly had the worst of it. The latter already counted four men
seriously wounded if not dead; they, on the contrary, unwounded, had not
missed a shot. If the pirates continued to attack them in this way, if
they renewed their attempt to land by means of a boat, they could be
destroyed one by one.
It was now seen how advantageous the engineer’s arrangements had
been. The pirates would think that they had to deal with numerous and
well-armed adversaries, whom they could not easily get the better of.
Half an hour passed before the boat, having to pull against the current,
could get alongside the “Speedy.” Frightful cries were heard when they
returned on board with the wounded, and two or three guns were fired
with no results.
But now about a dozen other convicts, maddened with rage, and possibly
by the effect of the evening’s potations, threw themselves into the
boat. A second boat was also lowered, in which eight men took their
places, and while the first pulled straight for the islet, to dislodge
the colonists from thence the second maneuvered so as to force the
entrance of the Mercy.
The situation was evidently becoming very dangerous for Pencroft and
Ayrton, and they saw that they must regain the mainland.
However, they waited till the first boat was within range, when two
well-directed balls threw its crew into disorder. Then, Pencroft and
Ayrton, abandoning their posts, under fire from the dozen muskets, ran
across the islet at full speed, jumped into their boat, crossed the
channel at the moment the second boat reached the southern end, and ran
to hide themselves in the Chimneys.
They had scarcely rejoined Cyrus Harding and Herbert, before the islet
was overrun with pirates in every direction. Almost at the same moment,
fresh reports resounded from the Mercy station, to which the second boat
was rapidly approaching. Two, out of the eight men who manned her,
were mortally wounded by Gideon Spilett and Neb, and the boat herself,
carried irresistibly onto the reefs, was stove in at the mouth of the
Mercy. But the six survivors, holding their muskets above their heads to
preserve them from contact with the water, managed to land on the right
bank of the river. Then, finding they were exposed to the fire of the
ambush there, they fled in the direction of Flotsam Point, out of range
of the balls.
The actual situation was this: on the islet were a dozen convicts,
of whom some were no doubt wounded, but who had still a boat at their
disposal; on the island were six, but who could not by any possibility
reach Granite House, as they could not cross the river, all the bridges
being raised.
“Hallo,” exclaimed Pencroft as he rushed into the Chimneys, “hallo,
captain! What do you think of it, now?”
“I think,” answered the engineer, “that the combat will now take a new
form, for it cannot be supposed that the convicts will be so foolish as
to remain in a position so unfavorable for them!”
“They won’t cross the channel,” said the sailor. “Ayrton and Mr.
Spilett’s rifles are there to prevent them. You know that they carry
more than a mile!”
“No doubt,” replied Herbert; “but what can two rifles do against the
brig’s guns?”
“Well, the brig isn’t in the channel yet, I fancy!” said Pencroft.
“But suppose she does come there?” said Harding.
“That’s impossible, for she would risk running aground and being lost!”
“It is possible,” said Ayrton. “The convicts might profit by the high
tide to enter the channel, with the risk of grounding at low tide, it
is true; but then, under the fire from her guns, our posts would be no
longer tenable.”
“Confound them!” exclaimed Pencroft, “it really seems as if the
blackguards were preparing to weigh anchor.”
“Perhaps we shall be obliged to take refuge in Granite House!” observed
Herbert.
“We must wait!” answered Cyrus Harding.
“But Mr. Spilett and Neb?” said Pencroft.
“They will know when it is best to rejoin us. Be ready, Ayrton. It is
yours and Spilett’s rifles which must speak now.”
It was only too true. The “Speedy” was beginning to weigh her anchor,
and her intention was evidently to approach the islet. The tide would
be rising for an hour and a half, and the ebb current being already
weakened, it would be easy for the brig to advance. But as to entering
the channel, Pencroft, contrary to Ayrton’s opinion, could not believe
that she would dare to attempt it.
In the meanwhile, the pirates who occupied the islet had gradually
advanced to the opposite shore, and were now only separated from the
mainland by the channel.
Being armed with muskets alone, they could do no harm to the settlers,
in ambush at the Chimneys and the mouth of the Mercy; but, not knowing
the latter to be supplied with long-range rifles, they on their side did
not believe themselves to be exposed. Quite uncovered, therefore, they
surveyed the islet, and examined the shore.
Their illusion was of short duration. Ayrton’s and Gideon Spilett’s
rifles then spoke, and no doubt imparted some very disagreeable
intelligence to two of the convicts, for they fell backwards.
Then there was a general helter-skelter. The ten others, not even
stopping to pick up their dead or wounded companions, fled to the other
side of the islet, tumbled into the boat which had brought them, and
pulled away with all their strength.
“Eight less!” exclaimed Pencroft. “Really, one would have thought that
Mr. Spilett and Ayrton had given the word to fire together!”
“Gentlemen,” said Ayrton, as he reloaded his gun, “this is becoming more
serious. The brig is making sail!”
“The anchor is weighed!” exclaimed Pencroft.
“Yes, and she is already moving.”
In fact, they could distinctly hear the creaking of the windlass. The
“Speedy” was at first held by her anchor; then, when that had been
raised, she began to drift towards the shore. The wind was blowing
from the sea; the jib and the foretopsail were hoisted, and the vessel
gradually approached the island.
From the two posts of the Mercy and the Chimneys they watched her
without giving a sign of life, but not without some emotion. What
could be more terrible for the colonists than to be exposed, at a short
distance, to the brig’s guns, without being able to reply with any
effect? How could they then prevent the pirates from landing?
Cyrus Harding felt this strongly, and he asked himself what it would
be possible to do. Before long, he would be called upon for his
determination. But what was it to be? To shut themselves up in Granite
House, to be besieged there, to remain there for weeks, for months even,
since they had an abundance of provisions? So far good! But after that?
The pirates would not the less be masters of the island, which they
would ravage at their pleasure, and in time, they would end by having
their revenge on the prisoners in Granite House.
However, one chance yet remained; it was that Bob Harvey, after all,
would not venture his ship into the channel, and that he would keep
outside the islet. He would be still separated from the coast by half a
mile, and at that distance his shot could not be very destructive.
“Never!” repeated Pencroft, “Bob Harvey will never, if he is a good
seaman, enter that channel! He knows well that it would risk the brig,
if the sea got up ever so little! And what would become of him without
his vessel?”
In the meanwhile the brig approached the islet, and it could be seen
that she was endeavoring to make the lower end. The breeze was light,
and as the current had then lost much of its force, Bob Harvey had
absolute command over his vessel.
The route previously followed by the boats had allowed her to
reconnoiter the channel, and she boldly entered it.
The pirate’s design was now only too evident; he wished to bring her
broadside to bear on the Chimneys and from there to reply with shell and
ball to the shot which had till then decimated her crew.
Soon the “Speedy” reached the point of the islet; she rounded it with
ease; the mainsail was braced up, and the brig hugging the wind, stood
across the mouth of the Mercy.
“The scoundrels! they are coming!” said Pencroft.
At that moment, Cyrus Harding, Ayrton, the sailor, and Herbert, were
rejoined by Neb and Gideon Spilett.
The reporter and his companion had judged it best to abandon the post at
the Mercy, from which they could do nothing against the ship, and they
had acted wisely. It was better that the colonists should be together at
the moment when they were about to engage in a decisive action. Gideon
Spilett and Neb had arrived by dodging behind the rocks, though not
without attracting a shower of bullets, which had not, however, reached
them.
“Spilett! Neb!” cried the engineer. “You are not wounded?”
“No,” answered the reporter, “a few bruises only from the ricochet! But
that cursed brig has entered the channel!”
“Yes,” replied Pencroft, “and in ten minutes she will have anchored
before Granite House!”
“Have you formed any plan, Cyrus?” asked the reporter.
“We must take refuge in Granite House while there is still time, and the
convicts cannot see us.”
“That is, my opinion, too,” replied Gideon Spilett, “but once shut up--”
“We must be guided by circumstances,” said the engineer.
“Let us be off, then, and make haste!” said the reporter.
“Would you not wish, captain, that Ayrton and I should remain here?”
asked the sailor.
“What would be the use of that, Pencroft?” replied Harding. “No. We will
not separate!”
There was not a moment to be lost. The colonists left the Chimneys. A
bend of the cliff prevented them from being seen by those in the brig,
but two or three reports, and the crash of bullets on the rock, told
them that the “Speedy” was at no great distance.
To spring into the lift, hoist themselves up to the door of Granite
House, where Top and Jup had been shut up since the evening before, to
rush into the large room, was the work of a minute only.
It was quite time, for the settlers, through the branches, could see the
“Speedy,” surrounded with smoke, gliding up the channel. The firing was
incessant, and shot from the four guns struck blindly, both on the Mercy
post, although it was not occupied, and on the Chimneys. The rocks were
splintered, and cheers accompanied each discharge. However, they
were hoping that Granite House would be spared, thanks to Harding’s
precaution of concealing the windows when a shot, piercing the door,
penetrated into the passage.
“We are discovered!” exclaimed Pencroft.
The colonists had not, perhaps, been seen, but it was certain that Bob
Harvey had thought proper to send a ball through the suspected foliage
which concealed that part of the cliff. Soon he redoubled his attack,
when another ball having torn away the leafy screen, disclosed a gaping
aperture in the granite.
The colonists’ situation was desperate. Their retreat was discovered.
They could not oppose any obstacle to these missiles, nor protect the
stone, which flew in splinters around them. There was nothing to be
done but to take refuge in the upper passage of Granite House, and leave
their dwelling to be devastated, when a deep roar was heard, followed by
frightful cries!
Cyrus Harding and his companions rushed to one of the windows--
The brig, irresistibly raised on a sort of water-spout, had just split
in two, and in less than ten seconds she was swallowed up with all her
criminal crew!
Chapter 4
“She has blown up!” cried Herbert.
“Yes! blown up, just as if Ayrton had set fire to the powder!” returned
Pencroft, throwing himself into the lift together with Neb and the lad.
“But what has happened?” asked Gideon Spilett, quite stunned by this
unexpected catastrophe.
“Oh! this time, we shall know--” answered the engineer quickly.
“What shall we know?--”
“Later! later! Come, Spilett. The main point is that these pirates have
been exterminated!”
And Cyrus Harding, hurrying away the reporter and Ayrton, joined
Pencroft, Neb, and Herbert on the beach.
Nothing could be seen of the brig, not even her masts. After having been
raised by the water-spout, she had fallen on her side, and had sunk in
that position, doubtless in consequence of some enormous leak. But as
in that place the channel was not more than twenty feet in depth, it
was certain that the sides of the submerged brig would reappear at low
water.
A few things from the wreck floated on the surface of the water, a raft
could be seen consisting of spare spars, coops of poultry with their
occupants still living, boxes and barrels, which gradually came to the
surface, after having escaped through the hatchways, but no pieces of
the wreck appeared, neither planks from the deck, nor timber from the
hull,--which rendered the sudden disappearance of the “Speedy” perfectly
inexplicable.
However, the two masts, which had been broken and escaped from the
shrouds and stays came up, and with their sails, some furled and the
others spread. But it was not necessary to wait for the tide to bring
up these riches, and Ayrton and Pencroft jumped into the boat with the
intention of towing the pieces of wreck either to the beach or to the
islet. But just as they were shoving off, an observation from Gideon
Spilett arrested them.
“What about those six convicts who disembarked on the right bank of the
Mercy?” said he.
In fact, it would not do to forget that the six men whose boat had gone
to pieces on the rocks had landed at Flotsam Point.
They looked in that direction. None of the fugitives were visible. It
was probable that, having seen their vessel engulfed in the channel,
they had fled into the interior of the island.
“We will deal with them later,” said Harding. “As they are armed, they
will still be dangerous; but as it is six against six, the chances are
equal. To the most pressing business first.”
Ayrton and Pencroft pulled vigorously towards the wreck.
The sea was calm and the tide very high, as there had been a new moon
but two days before. A whole hour at least would elapse before the hull
of the brig could emerge from the water of the channel.
Ayrton and Pencroft were able to fasten the masts and spars by means of
ropes, the ends of which were carried to the beach. There, by the united
efforts of the settlers the pieces of wreck were hauled up. Then the
boat picked up all that was floating, coops, barrels, and boxes, which
were immediately carried to the Chimneys.
Several bodies floated also. Among them, Ayrton recognized that of
Bob Harvey, which he pointed out to his companion, saying with some
emotion,--
“That is what I have been, Pencroft.”
“But what you are no longer, brave Ayrton!” returned the sailor warmly.
It was singular enough that so few bodies floated. Only five or six were
counted, which were already being carried by the current towards the
open sea. Very probably the convicts had not had time to escape, and
the ship lying over on her side, the greater number of them had remained
below. Now the current, by carrying the bodies of these miserable men
out to sea, would spare the colonists the sad task of burying them in
some corner of their island.
For two hours, Cyrus Harding and his companions were solely occupied
in hauling up the spars on to the sand, and then in spreading the sails
which were perfectly uninjured, to dry. They spoke little, for they were
absorbed in their work, but what thoughts occupied their minds!
The possession of this brig, or rather all that she contained, was
a perfect mine of wealth. In fact, a ship is like a little world in
miniature, and the stores of the colony would be increased by a large
number of useful articles. It would be, on a large scale, equivalent to
the chest found at Flotsam Point.
“And besides,” thought Pencroft, “why should it be impossible to refloat
the brig? If she has only a leak, that may be stopped up; a vessel from
three to four hundred tons, why she is a regular ship compared to our
‘Bonadventure’! And we could go a long distance in her! We could go
anywhere we liked! Captain Harding, Ayrton and I must examine her! She
would be well worth the trouble!”
In fact, if the brig was still fit to navigate, the colonists’ chances
of returning to their native land were singularly increased. But, to
decide this important question, it was necessary to wait until the tide
was quite low, so that every part of the brig’s hull might be examined.
When their treasures had been safely conveyed on shore, Harding and his
companions agreed to devote some minutes to breakfast. They were almost
famished; fortunately, the larder was not far off, and Neb was noted
for being an expeditious cook. They breakfasted, therefore, near the
Chimneys, and during their repast, as may be supposed, nothing was
talked of but the event which had so miraculously saved the colony.
“Miraculous is the word,” repeated Pencroft, “for it must be
acknowledged that those rascals blew up just at the right moment!
Granite House was beginning to be uncomfortable as a habitation!”
“And can you guess, Pencroft,” asked the reporter, “how it happened, or
what can have occasioned the explosion?”
“Oh! Mr. Spilett, nothing is more simple,” answered Pencroft. “A convict
vessel is not disciplined like a man-of-war! Convicts are not sailors.
Of course the powder-magazine was open, and as they were firing
incessantly, some careless or clumsy fellow just blew up the vessel!”
“Captain Harding,” said Herbert, “what astonishes me is that the
explosion has not produced more effect. The report was not loud, and
besides there are so few planks and timbers torn out. It seems as if the
ship had rather foundered than blown up.”
“Does that astonish you, my boy?” asked the engineer.
“Yes, captain.”
“And it astonishes me also, Herbert,” replied he, “but when we visit the
hull of the brig, we shall no doubt find the explanation of the matter.”
“Why, captain,” said Pencroft, “you don’t suppose that the ‘Speedy’
simply foundered like a ship which has struck on a rock?”
“Why not,” observed Neb, “if there are rocks in the channel?”
“Nonsense, Neb,” answered Pencroft, “you did not look at the right
moment. An instant before she sank, the brig, as I saw perfectly well,
rose on an enormous wave, and fell back on her larboard side. Now, if
she had only struck, she would have sunk quietly and gone to the bottom
like an honest vessel.”
“It was just because she was not an honest vessel!” returned Neb.
“Well, we shall soon see, Pencroft,” said the engineer.
“We shall soon see,” rejoined the sailor, “but I would wager my
head there are no rocks in the channel. Look here, captain, to speak
candidly, do you mean to say that there is anything marvelous in the
occurrence?”
Cyrus Harding did not answer.
“At any rate,” said Gideon Spilett, “whether rock or explosion, you will
agree, Pencroft, that it occurred just in the nick of time!”
“Yes! yes!” replied the sailor, “but that is not the question. I ask
Captain Harding if he sees anything supernatural in all this.”
“I cannot say, Pencroft,” said the engineer. “That is all the answer I
can make.”
A reply which did not satisfy Pencroft at all. He stuck to “an
explosion,” and did not wish to give it up. He would never consent
to admit that in that channel, with its fine sandy bed, just like
the beach, which he had often crossed at low water, there could be an
unknown rock.
And besides, at the time the brig foundered, it was high water, that is
to say, there was enough water to carry the vessel clear over any rocks
which would not be uncovered at low tide. Therefore, there could not
have been a collision. Therefore, the vessel had not struck. So she had
blown up.
And it must be confessed that the sailor’s arguments were reasonable.
Towards half-past one, the colonists embarked in the boat to visit the
wreck. It was to be regretted that the brig’s two boats had not been
saved; but one, as has been said, had gone to pieces at the mouth of the
Mercy, and was absolutely useless; the other had disappeared when the
brig went down, and had not again been seen, having doubtless been
crushed.
The hull of the “Speedy” was just beginning to issue from the water.
The brig was lying right over on her side, for her masts being broken,
pressed down by the weight of the ballast displaced by the shock, the
keel was visible along her whole length. She had been regularly turned
over by the inexplicable but frightful submarine action, which had been
at the same time manifested by an enormous water-spout.
The settlers rowed round the hull, and in proportion as the tide went
down, they could ascertain, if not the cause which had occasioned the
catastrophe, at least the effect produced.
Towards the bows, on both sides of the keel, seven or eight feet from
the beginning of the stem, the sides of the brig were frightfully torn.
Over a length of at least twenty feet there opened two large leaks,
which would be impossible to stop up. Not only had the copper sheathing
and the planks disappeared, reduced, no doubt, to powder, but also the
ribs, the iron bolts, and treenails which united them. From the entire
length of the hull to the stern the false keel had been separated with
an unaccountable violence, and the keel itself, torn from the carline in
several places, was split in all its length.
“I’ve a notion!” exclaimed Pencroft, “that this vessel will be difficult
to get afloat again.”
“It will be impossible,” said Ayrton.
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