The Mysterious Island
“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