Books: The Mysterious Island

J >> Jules Verne >> The Mysterious Island

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In ten days, on the 22nd of November, Herbert was considerably better. He
had begun to take some nourishment.

The color was returning to his cheeks, and his bright eyes smiled at his
nurses. He talked a little, notwithstanding Pencroft's efforts, who talked
incessantly to prevent him from beginning to speak, and told him the most
improbable stories. Herbert had questioned him on the subject of Ayrton,
whom he was astonished not to see near him, thinking that he was at the
corral. But the sailor, not wishing to distress Herbert, contented himself
by replying that Ayrton had rejoined Neb, so as to defend Granite House.

"Humph!" said Pencroft, "these pirates! they are gentlemen who have no
right to any consideration! And the captain wanted to win them by kindness!
I'll send them some kindness, but in the shape of a good bullet!"

"And have they not been seen again?" asked Herbert.

"No, my boy," answered the sailor, "but we shall find them, and when you
are cured we shall see if the cowards who strike us from behind will dare
to meet us face to face!"

"I am still very weak, my poor Pencroft!"

"Well! your strength will return gradually! What's a ball through the
chest? Nothing but a joke! I've seen many, and I don't think much of them!"

At last things appeared to be going on well, and if no complication
occurred, Herbert's recovery might be regarded as certain. But what would
have been the condition of the colonists if his state had been aggravated,
--if, for example, the ball had remained in his body, if his arm or his leg
had had to be amputated?

"No," said Spilett more than once, "I have never thought of such a
contingency without shuddering!"

"And yet, if it had been necessary to operate," said Harding one day to
him, "you would not have hesitated?"

"No, Cyrus!" said Gideon Spilett, "but thank God that we have been spared
this complication!"

As in so many other conjectures, the colonists had appealed to the logic
of that simple good sense of which they had made use so often, and once
more, thanks to their general knowledge, it had succeeded! But might not a
time come when all their science would be at fault? They were alone on the
island. Now, men in all states of society are necessary to each other.
Cyrus Harding knew this well, and sometimes he asked if some circumstance
might not occur which they would be powerless to surmount. It appeared to
him besides, that he and his companions, till then so fortunate, had
entered into an unlucky period. During the two years and a half which had
elapsed since their escape from Richmond, it might be said that they had
had everything their own way. The island had abundantly supplied them with
minerals, vegetables, animals, and as Nature had constantly loaded them,
their science had known how to take advantage of what she offered them.

The wellbeing of the colony was therefore complete. Moreover, in certain
occurrences an inexplicable influence had come to their aid!... But all
that could only be for a time.

In short, Cyrus Harding believed that fortune had turned against them.

In fact, the convicts' ship had appeared in the waters of the island, and
if the pirates had been, so to speak, miraculously destroyed, six of them,
at least, had escaped the catastrophe. They had disembarked on the island,
and it was almost impossible to get at the five who survived. Ayrton had no
doubt been murdered by these wretches, who possessed firearms, and at the
first use that they had made of them, Herbert had fallen, wounded almost
mortally. Were these the first blows aimed by adverse fortune at the
colonists? This was often asked by Harding. This was often repeated by the
reporter; and it appeared to him also that the intervention, so strange,
yet so efficacious, which till then had served them so well, had now failed
them. Had this mysterious being, whatever he was, whose existence could not
be denied, abandoned the island? Had he in his turn succumbed?

No reply was possible to these questions. But it must not be imagined
that because Harding and his companions spoke of these things, they were
men to despair. Far from that. They looked their situation in the face,
they analyzed the chances, they prepared themselves for any event, they
stood firm and straight before the future, and if adversity was at last to
strike them, it would find in them men prepared to struggle against it.

Chapter 9

The convalescence of the young invalid was regularly progressing. One thing
only was now to be desired, that his state would allow him to be brought to
Granite House. However well built and supplied the corral house was, it
could not be so comfortable as the healthy granite dwelling. Besides, it
did not offer the same security, and its tenants, notwithstanding their
watchfulness, were here always in fear of some shot from the convicts.
There, on the contrary, in the middle of that impregnable and inaccessible
cliff, they would have nothing to fear, and any attack on their persons
would certainly fail. They therefore waited impatiently for the moment when
Herbert might be moved without danger from his wound, and they were
determined to make this move, although the communication through Jacamar
Wood was very difficult.

They had no news from Neb, but were not uneasy on that account. The
courageous Negro, well entrenched in the depths of Granite House, would not
allow himself to be surprised. Top had not been sent again to him, as it
appeared useless to expose the faithful dog to some shot which might
deprive the settlers of their most useful auxiliary.

They waited, therefore, although they were anxious to be reunited at
Granite House. It pained the engineer to see his forces divided, for it
gave great advantage to the pirates. Since Ayrton's disappearance they were
only four against five, for Herbert could not yet be counted, and this was
not the least care of the brave boy, who well understood the trouble of
which he was the cause.

The question of knowing how, in their condition, they were to act against
the pirates, was thoroughly discussed on the 29th of November by Cyrus
Harding, Gideon Spilett, and Pencroft, at a moment when Herbert was asleep
and could not hear them.

"My friends," said the reporter, after they had talked of Neb and of the
impossibility of communicating with him, "I think,--like you, that to
venture on the road to the corral would be to risk receiving a gunshot
without being able to return it. But do you not think that the best thing
to be done now is to openly give chase to these wretches?"

"That is just what I was thinking," answered Pencroft. "I believe we're
not fellows to be afraid of a bullet, and as for me, if Captain Harding
approves, I'm ready to dash into the forest! Why, hang it, one man is equal
to another!"

"But is he equal to five?" asked the engineer.

"I will join Pencroft," said the reporter, "and both of us, well-armed
and accompanied by Top--"

"My dear Spilett, and you, Pencroft," answered Harding, "let us reason
coolly. If the convicts were hid in one spot of the island, if we knew that
spot, and had only to dislodge them, I would undertake a direct attack; but
is there not occasion to fear, on the contrary, that they are sure to fire
the first shot?"

"Well, captain," cried Pencroft, "a bullet does not always reach its
mark."

"That which struck Herbert did not miss, Pencroft," replied the engineer.
"Besides, observe that if both of you left the corral I should remain here
alone to defend it. Do you imagine that the convicts will not see you leave
it, that they will not allow you to enter the forest, and that they will
not attack it during your absence, knowing that there is no one here but a
wounded boy and a man?"

"You are right, captain," replied Pencroft, his chest swelling with
sullen anger. "You are right; they will do all they can to retake the
corral, which they know to be well stored; and alone you could not hold it
against them."

"Oh, if we were only at Granite House!"

"If we were at Granite House," answered the engineer, "the case would be
very different. There I should not be afraid to leave Herbert with one,
while the other three went to search the forests of the island. But we are
at the corral, and it is best to stay here until we can leave it together."

Cyrus Harding's reasoning was unanswerable, and his companions understood
it well.

"If only Ayrton was still one of us!" said Gideon Spilett. "Poor fellow!
his return to social life will have been but of short duration."

"If he is dead," added Pencroft, in a peculiar tone.

"Do you hope, then, Pencroft, that the villains have spared him?" asked
Gideon Spilett.

"Yes, if they had any interest in doing so."

"What! you suppose that Ayrton finding his old companions, forgetting
all that he owes us--"

"Who knows?" answered the sailor, who did not hazard this shameful
supposition without hesitating.

"Pencroft," said Harding, taking the sailor's arm, "that is a wicked idea
of yours, and you will distress me much if you persist in speaking thus. I
will answer for Ayrton's fidelity."

"And I also," added the reporter quickly.

"Yes, yes, captain, I was wrong," replied Pencroft; "it was a wicked idea
indeed that I had, and nothing justifies it. But what can I do? I'm not in
my senses. This imprisonment in the corral wearies me horribly, and I have
never felt so excited as I do now.

"Be patient, Pencroft," replied the engineer. "How long will it be, my
dear Spilett, before you think Herbert may be carried to Granite House?"

"That is difficult to say, Cyrus," answered the reporter, "for any
imprudence might involve terrible consequences. But his convalescence is
progressing, and if he continues to gain strength, in eight days from now--
well, we shall see."

Eight days! That would put off the return to Granite House until the
first days of December. At this time two months of spring had already
passed. The weather was fine, and the heat began to be great. The forests
of the island were in full leaf, and the time was approaching when the
usual crops ought to be gathered. The return to the plateau of Prospect
Heights would, therefore, be followed by extensive agricultural labors,
interrupted only by the projected expedition through the island.

It can, therefore, be well understood how injurious this seclusion in the
corral must have been to the colonists.

But if they were compelled to bow before necessity, they did not do so
without impatience.

Once or twice the reporter ventured out into the road and made the tour
of the palisade. Top accompanied him, and Gideon Spilett, his gun cocked,
was ready for any emergency.

He met with no misadventure and found no suspicious traces. His dog would
have warned him of any danger, and, as Top did not bark, it might be
concluded that there was nothing to fear at the moment at least, and that
the convicts were occupied in another part of the island.

However, on his second sortie, on the 27th of November, Gideon Spilett,
who had ventured a quarter of a mile into the woods, towards the south of
the mountain, remarked that Top scented something. The dog had no longer
his unconcerned manner; he went backwards and forwards, ferreting among
the grass and bushes as if his smell had revealed some suspicious object to
him.

Gideon Spilett followed Top, encouraged him, excited him by his voice,
while keeping a sharp look-out, his gun ready to fire, and sheltering
himself behind the trees. It was not probable that Top scented the presence
of man, for in that case, he would have announced it by half-uttered,
sullen, angry barks. Now, as he did not growl, it was because danger was
neither near nor approaching.

Nearly five minutes passed thus, Top rummaging, the reporter following
him prudently when, all at once, the dog rushed towards a thick bush, and
drew out a rag.

It was a piece of cloth, stained and torn, which Spilett immediately
brought back to the corral. There it was examined by the colonists, who
found that it was a fragment of Ayrton's waistcoat, a piece of that felt,
manufactured solely by the Granite House factory.

"You see, Pencroft," observed Harding, "there has been resistance on the
part of the unfortunate Ayrton. The convicts have dragged him away in spite
of himself! Do you still doubt his honesty?"

"No, captain," answered the sailor, "and I repented of my suspicion a
long time ago! But it seems to me that something may be learned from the
incident."

"What is that?" asked the reporter.

"It is that Ayrton was not killed at the corral! That they dragged him
away living, since he has resisted. Therefore, perhaps, he is still
living!"

"Perhaps, indeed," replied the engineer, who remained thoughtful.

This was a hope, to which Ayrton's companions could still hold. Indeed,
they had before believed that, surprised in the corral, Ayrton had fallen
by a bullet, as Herbert had fallen. But if the convicts had not killed him
at first, if they had brought him living to another part of the island,
might it not be admitted that he was still their prisoner? Perhaps, even,
one of them had found in Ayrton his old Australian companion Ben Joyce, the
chief of the escaped convicts. And who knows but that they had conceived
the impossible hope of bringing back Ayrton to themselves? He would have
been very useful to them, if they had been able to make him turn traitor!

This incident was, therefore, favorably interpreted at the corral, and it
no longer appeared impossible that they should find Ayrton again. On his
side, if he was only a prisoner, Ayrton would no doubt do all he could to
escape from the hands of the villains, and this would be a powerful aid to
the settlers!

"At any rate," observed Gideon Spilett, "if happily Ayrton did manage to
escape, he would go directly to Granite House, for he could not know of the
attempted assassination of which Herbert has been a victim, and
consequently would never think of our being imprisoned in the corral."

"Oh! I wish that he was there, at Granite House!" cried Pencroft, "and
that we were there, too! For, although the rascals can do nothing to our
house, they may plunder the plateau, our plantations, our poultry-yard!"

Pencroft had become a thorough farmer, heartily attached to his crops.
But it must be said that Herbert was more anxious than any to return to
Granite House, for he knew how much the presence of the settlers was needed
there. And it was he who was keeping them at the corral! Therefore, one
idea occupied his mind--to leave the corral, and when! He believed he could
bear removal to Granite House. He was sure his strength would return more
quickly in his room, with the air and sight of the sea!

Several times he pressed Gideon Spilett, but the latter, fearing, with
good reason, that Herbert's wounds, half healed, might reopen on the way,
did not give the order to start.

However, something occurred which compelled Cyrus Harding and his two
friends to yield to the lad's wish, and God alone knew that this
determination might cause them grief and remorse.

It was the 29th of November, seven o'clock in the evening. The three
settlers were talking in Herbert's room, when they heard Top utter quick
barks.

Harding, Pencroft, and Spilett seized their guns and ran out of the
house. Top, at the foot of the palisade, was jumping, barking, but it was
with pleasure, not anger.

"Some one is coming."

"Yes."

"It is not an enemy!"

"Neb, perhaps?"

"Or Ayrton?"

These words had hardly been exchanged between the engineer and his two
companions when a body leaped over the palisade and fell on the ground
inside the corral.

It was Jup, Master Jup in person, to whom Top immediately gave a most
cordial reception.

"Jup!" exclaimed Pencroft.

"Neb has sent him to us," said the reporter.

"Then," replied the engineer, "he must have some note on him."

Pencroft rushed up to the orang. Certainly if Neb had any important
matter to communicate to his master he could not employ a more sure or more
rapid messenger, who could pass where neither the colonists could, nor even
Top himself.

Cyrus Harding was not mistaken. At Jup's neck hung a small bag, and in
this bag was found a little note traced by Neb's hand.

The despair of Harding and his companions may be imagined when they read
these words:--

"Friday, six o'clock in the morning.

"Plateau invaded by convicts.

"Neb."

They gazed at each other without uttering a word, then they re-entered
the house. what were they to do? The convicts on Prospect Heights! that was
disaster, devastation, ruin.

Herbert, on seeing the engineer, the reporter, and Pencroft re-enter,
guessed that their situation was aggravated, and when he saw Jup, he no
longer doubted that some misfortune menaced Granite House.

"Captain Harding," said he, "I must go; I can bear the journey. I must
go."

Gideon Spilett approached Herbert; then, having looked at him,--

"Let us go, then!" said he.

The question was quickly decided whether Herbert should be carried on a
litter or in the cart which had brought Ayrton to the corral. The motion of
the litter would have been more easy for the wounded lad, but it would have
necessitated two bearers, that is to say, there would have been two guns
less for defense if an attack was made on the road. Would they not, on the
contrary, by employing the cart leave every arm free? Was it impossible to
place the mattress on which Herbert was lying in it, and to advance with so
much care that any jolt should be avoided? It could be done.

The cart was brought. Pencroft harnessed the onager. Cyrus Harding and
the reporter raised Herbert's mattress and placed it on the bottom of the
cart. The weather was fine. The sun's bright rays glanced through the
trees.

"Are the guns ready?" asked Cyrus Harding.

They were. The engineer and Pencroft, each armed with a double-barreled
gun, and Gideon Spilett carrying his rifle, had nothing to do but start.

"Are you comfortable, Herbert?" asked the engineer.

"Ah, captain," replied the lad, "don't be uneasy, I shall not die on the
road!"

While speaking thus, it could be seen that the poor boy had called up all
his energy, and by the energy of a powerful will had collected his failing
strength.

The engineer felt his heart sink painfully. He still hesitated to
give the signal for departure; but that would have driven Herbert
to despair--killed him perhaps.

"Forward!" said Harding.

The gate of the corral was opened. Jup and Top, who knew when to be
silent, ran in advance. The cart came out, the gate was reclosed, and the
onager, led by Pencroft, advanced at a slow pace.

Certainly, it would have been safer to have taken a different road than
that which led straight from the corral to Granite House, but the cart
would have met with great difficulties in moving under the trees. It was
necessary, therefore, to follow this way, although it was well known to the
convicts.

Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett walked one on each side of the cart,
ready to answer to any attack. However, it was not probable that the
convicts would have yet left the plateau of Prospect Heights.

Neb's note had evidently been written and sent as soon as the convicts
had shown themselves there. Now, this note was dated six o'clock in the
morning, and the active orang, accustomed to come frequently to the corral,
had taken scarcely three quarters of an hour to cross the five miles which
separated it from Granite House. They would, therefore, be safe at that
time, and if there was any occasion for firing, it would probably not be
until they were in the neighborhood of Granite House. However, the
colonists kept a strict watch. Top and Jup, the latter armed with his club,
sometimes in front, sometimes beating the wood at the sides of the road,
signalized no danger.

The cart advanced slowly under Pencroft's guidance. It had left the
corral at half-past seven. An hour after, four out of the five miles had
been cleared, without any incident having occurred. The road was as
deserted as all that part of the Jacamar Wood which lay between the Mercy
and the lake. There was no occasion for any warning. The wood appeared as
deserted as on the day when the colonists first landed on the island.

They approached the plateau. Another mile and they would see the bridge
over Creek Glycerine. Cyrus Harding expected to find it in its place;
supposing that the convicts would have crossed it, and that, after having
passed one of the streams which enclosed the plateau, they would have taken
the precaution to lower it again, so as to keep open a retreat.

At length an opening in the trees allowed the sea-horizon to be seen. But
the cart continued its progress, for not one of its defenders thought of
abandoning it.

At that moment Pencroft stopped the onager, and in a hoarse voice,--

"Oh! the villains!" he exclaimed.

And he pointed to a thick smoke rising from the mill, the sheds, and the
buildings at the poultry-yard.

A man was moving about in the midst of the smoke. It was Neb.

His companions uttered a shout. He heard, and ran to meet them.

The convicts had left the plateau nearly half-an-hour before, having
devastated it!

"And Mr. Herbert?" asked Neb.

Gideon Spilett returned to the cart.

Herbert had lost consciousness!

Chapter 10

Of the convicts, the dangers which menaced Granite House, the ruins with
which the plateau was covered, the colonists thought no longer. Herbert's
critical state outweighed all other considerations. Would the removal prove
fatal to him by causing some internal injury? The reporter could not affirm
it, but he and his companions almost despaired of the result. The cart was
brought to the bend of the river. There some branches, disposed as a liner,
received the mattress on which lay the unconscious Herbert. Ten minutes
after, Cyrus Harding, Spilett, and Pencroft were at the foot of the cliff,
leaving Neb to take the cart on to the plateau of Prospect Heights. The
lift was put in motion, and Herbert was soon stretched on his bed in
Granite House.

What cares were lavished on him to bring him back to life! He smiled for
a moment on finding himself in his room, but could scarcely even murmur a
few words, so great was his weakness. Gideon Spilett examined his wounds. He
feared to find them reopened, having been imperfectly healed. There was
nothing of the sort. From whence, then, came this prostration? why was
Herbert so much worse? The lad then fell into a kind of feverish sleep, and
the reporter and Pencroft remained near the bed. During this time, Harding
told Neb all that had happened at the corral, and Neb recounted to his
master the events of which the plateau had just been the theater.

It was only during the preceding night that the convicts had appeared on
the edge of the forest, at the approaches to Creek Glycerine. Neb, who was
watching near the poultry-yard, had not hesitated to fire at one of the
pirates, who was about to cross the stream; but in the darkness he could
not tell whether the man had been hit or not. At any rate, it was not
enough to frighten away the band, and Neb had only just time to get up to
Granite House, where at least he was in safety.

But what was he to do there? How prevent the devastations with which the
convicts threatened the plateau? Had Neb any means by which to warn his
master? And, besides, in what situation were the inhabitants of the corral
themselves? Cyrus Harding and his companions had left on the 11th of
November, and it was now the 29th. It was, therefore, nineteen days since
Neb had had other news than that brought by Top--disastrous news: Ayrton
disappeared, Herbert severely wounded, the engineer, reporter, and sailor,
as it were, imprisoned in the corral!

What was he to do? asked poor Neb. Personally he had nothing to fear, for
the convicts could not reach him in Granite House. But the buildings, the
plantations, all their arrangements at the mercy of the pirates! Would it
not be best to let Cyrus Harding judge of what he ought to do, and to warn
him, at least, of the danger which threatened him?

Neb then thought of employing Jup, and confiding a note to him. He knew
the orang's great intelligence, which had been often put to the proof. Jup
understood the word corral, which had been frequently pronounced before
him, and it may be remembered, too, that he had often driven the cart
thither in company with Pencroft. Day had not yet dawned. The active orang
would know how to pass unperceived through the woods, of which the
convicts, besides, would think he was a native.

Neb did not hesitate. He wrote the note, he tied it to Jup's neck, he
brought the ape to the door of Granite House, from which he let down a long
cord to the ground; then, several times he repeated these words,--

"Jup Jup! corral, corral!"

The creature understood, seized the cord, glided rapidly down the beach,
and disappeared in the darkness without the convicts' attention having been
in the least excited.