Read The Floating Island Online
Authors: Jules Verne
Yes. A thousand New Hebrideans
had invaded Standard Island, under the leadership of the French colonists of
Sandwich Island. We need not be astonished at the quartette being greeted in
their national language, when they met their brave compatriots.
It was under these circumstances
that this unexpected, or it might be said quasi-miraculous intervention had
taken place.
During the preceding night and
since daybreak Floating Island had continued to drift towards Sandwich Island,
where, it will be remembered, there resided a prosperous French colony. As soon
as the colonists got wind of the attack devised by Captain Sarol, they
resolved, with the aid of a thousand natives devoted to them, to go to the help
of Floating Island. But to transport them the vessels of Sandwich Island were
not sufficient.
Judge of the joy of these gallant
colonists when, during the morning, Floating Island came drifting up on the
current. Immediately they threw themselves into fishing-boats, followed by the
natives, most of them swimming, and landed at Larboard Harbour.
In a moment the men in the Prow
and Stern batteries, and those in the port, joined them. Across the country,
across the park they ran, towards Milliard City, and owing to this diversion
the town hall did not fall into the hands of the assailants, already shaken by
the death of Captain Sarol.
Two hours afterwards, the New
Hebridean bands, pursued on all sides, had to seek safety by plunging into the
sea, so as to reach Sandwich Island, while the greater number of them fell
under the bullets of the militia.
And now Floating Island had no
more to fear; it was saved from pillage, massacre, and annihilation.
It might seem that the issue of
this terrible affair would have evoked manifestations of public joy. No! Oh!
these Americans are always astonishing! They said that there was nothing
surprising in the result
—
that
they had foreseen it. And yet how nearly had the attempt of Captain Sarol ended
in a terrible catastrophe!
However, we may be allowed to
think that the chief proprietors of Floating Island congratulated themselves in
private at having been able to retain their property, and that at the moment
when the marriage of Walter Tankerdon and Miss Coverley would make the future
secure.
It should be said that when the
lovers met again, they fell into each other’s arms. And no one thought of
seeing in that any breach of the proprieties. Should they not have been married
a day ago?
There was no need to seek for any
ultra-American reserve in the welcome our Parisian artistes gave to the French
colonists of Sandwich Island. What an exchange of grips of the hand! What
felicitations did the Quartette Party receive from their compatriots! If the
bullets had spared them, they had none the less done their duty, these two
violins, this alto, and this violoncello! As to the excellent Athanase Dorémus,
he had been quietly waiting in his room at the casino, ready for the pupil who
never came
—
and
who could reproach him?
An exception must be made with
regard to the Superintendent. Ultra-Yankee as he was, his joy was delirious.
But what would you have? In his veins flowed the blood of the illustrious Barnum,
and it will be cheerfully admitted that the descendant of such an ancestor
would hardly be as sane as his fellow-citizens of North America.
After the affair was over, the
King of Malecarlie, accompanied by the Queen, returned to his house in Thirty-seventh
Avenue, where the council of notables conveyed to him the thanks which his
courage and devotion to the common cause deserved.
Thus Floating Island was safe and
sound. Its safety had cost it dear.
Cyrus Bikerstaff, killed at the
height of the battle, sixty militiamen and sailors hit by bullets or arrows,
and almost as many among the government servants and tradesmen, who had fought
so bravely.
In the public mourning the people
all joined, and the Pearl of the Pacific would never forget it.
With the rapidity of execution
characteristic of them, these Milliardites promptly set to work to repair
damages.
After a stay of a few days at
Sandwich Island all trace of the sanguinary strife would disappear.
Meantime, there was complete
accord with regard to the question of the military powers, which were left in
the hands of Commodore Simcoe. On this head there was no difficulty, no
competition. Neither Jem Tankerdon nor Nat Coverley had any ambition on this
head. Later, an election would settle the important question as to the new
governor of Floating Island.
The day after, an imposing
ceremony summoned the population to the quays of Starboard Harbour. The corpses
of the Malays and the natives were thrown into the sea; but it was not so with
those of the citizens who had died in defence of Floating Island. Their bodies
were taken to the temple and the cathedral to receive the honours due to them;
from Governor Cyrus Bikerstaff to the humblest amongst them, all were the
object of the same prayer and the same sorrow.
Then this funeral cargo was
confided to one of the swift steamers of Floating Island, and the ship departed
for Madeleine Bay, carrying these honoured corpses to a Christian land.
Floating
Island
left the neighbourhood of Sandwich Island on the 3rd of March.
Before its departure, the French colony and their native allies were the object
of cordial gratitude on the part of the Milliardites. These were friends whom
they would see again; they were brothers whom Sebastien Zorn and his comrades
left on this island of the New Hebrides group, who would for the future appear
in the annual itinerary.
Under Commodore Simcoe’s
direction, the repairs were quickly made. The damages were not extensive. The
electrical machinery was uninjured. With what remained of the stock of
petroleum, the working of the dynamos was assured for many weeks. Besides,
Floating Island would soon be back in that part of the Pacific where its
submarine cables would allow of its communicating with Madeleine Bay. There
was, consequently, the certainty of the campaign ending without disaster.
Within four months Floating Island would be on the American coast.
“Let us hope so,” said Sebastien
Zorn, when the Superintendent was as usual enlarging on the future of this
marvellous maritime invention.
“But,” observed Calistus Munbar, “what
a lesson we have received! These Malays, so obliging, this Captain Sarol, no
one would have suspected them. This is the last time Floating Island will give
shelter to strangers.”
“Not even if a shipwreck throws
them in the way?” asked Pinchinat.
“I do not believe any more in
shipwrecks or shipwrecked crews!”
But though Commodore Simcoe had
charge as before of the navigation of Floating Island, it did not follow that
the civil powers were in his hands. Since the death of Cyrus Bikerstaff
Milliard City had had no mayor, and, as we know, the assistants had resigned
their positions. Consequently it would be necessary to nominate a new governor
of Floating Island.
As there was no official of the
civil power they could not proceed to the marriage of Walter Tankerdon and Di
Coverley. Here was a difficulty which would not have arisen had it not been for
the machinations of that scoundrel Sarol! And not only the couple themselves,
but all the notables of Milliard City, and all the population, were anxious
that this marriage should be definitely settled. In it was one of the safest
guarantees of the future. That there might be no delay, Walter Tankerdon was
already talking of embarking on one of the Starboard Harbour steamers with the
two families to the nearest archipelago, where a mayor could proceed with the
nuptial ceremony. There were mayors at Samoa, at Tonga, at the Marquesas, and
in less than a week, if they went full steam
—
The wiser minds argued with the
impatient young man. The people were busy getting ready for the election. In a
few days the new governor would be nominated. The first act of his
administration would be to celebrate with great pomp the marriage so ardently
expected. The programme of the festivities would be resumed. A mayor! a mayor!
That was the cry in every mouth.
“Let us hope that these elections
may not revive the rivalries that may not be entirely extinct!” said Frascolin.
No, and Calistus Munbar had
resolved to do his best to bring matters to an end.
“Besides,” he exclaimed, “have we
not our lovers? You will, I think, agree with me that self-esteem has no chance
against love?”
Floating Island continued its
course to the northeast, towards the point where the twelfth degree of south latitude
crosses the hundred and seventy-fifth of west longitude.
It was in these parts that the
last cablegrams sent before the stay at the New Hebrides had communicated with
the supply ships loading at Madeleine Bay. Commodore Simcoe was not at all
anxious regarding provisions. The reserves were enough for more than a month,
and there could be no trouble on this point. It is true that foreign news was
running short. The political chronicle was meagre. The
Starboard Chronicle
complained, the
New Herald
was in despair. But what mattered it? Was not
Floating Island a little world in itself, and what had it to do with what
happened on the rest of the terrestrial spheroid? Did it want politics? Well,
there would soon be politics enough for it
—
perhaps
too much.
In fact the electoral contest
began. The council of notables, in which the Larboardites equalled the
Starboardites, was busy. It was certain that the choice of a new governor would
give rise to discussions, for Jem Tankerdon and Nat Coverley would be on
opposite sides.
A few days were spent in
preliminary meetings. From the outset it was evident that the parties would not
agree. Secret agitation arose in the town and ports, The agents of the two
sections tried to provoke a popular movement to bring pressure on the notables.
As time went on, it did not seem as though an agreement could be brought about.
It began to be feared that Jem Tankerdon and the principal Larboardites would
now endeavour to carry out their ideas, so objected to by the Starboardites,
and make Floating Island an industrial and commercial island. Never would the
other section consent to that! The more the Coverley party grew angry, the more
the Tankerdon party persisted. Hence offensive recriminations, bitterness
between the two camps, manifest coolness between the two families
—
a coolness which
Walter and Di did not care to notice. What had all this rubbish about politics
to do with them?
There was a very simple way of
arranging these matters, at least from an administrative point of view; that
was to resolve that the two competitors should take it in turn to be governor,
six months one and six months the other, even a year apiece if that seemed
preferable. Then there would be no rivalry, and the arrangement would satisfy
both parties. But good sense has never a chance of being adopted in this world,
and though it was independent of the terrestrial continents, Floating Island
was none the less subject to all the passions of sub-lunary humanity.
“There,” said Frascolin one day
to his companions. “There you have the difficulties I feared.”
“And what do these dissensions
matter to us?” replied Pinchinat. “How can they damage us? In a few months we
shall be at Madeleine Bay, and our engagement will be at an end, and we can set
foot on firm ground, with a little million in our pockets.”
“If some catastrophe does not
take place?” added the intractable Sebastien Zorn. “Is such a floating machine
ever sure of a future? After the collision with the English ship, the invasion
of the wild beasts; after the wild beasts the invasion of the New Hebrideans;
after the savages the
—
”
“Silence, bird of ill augury!”
exclaimed Yvernès. “Silence, we will put a padlock on your beak!”
Nevertheless, it was greatly to
be regretted that the marriage had not been celebrated at the date fixed. The
families being united by a new tie, the problem would be less difficult of
solution. The newly married couple might intervene in a more efficacious
fashion. After all, the agitation would not last, as the election would take
place on the 15th of March.
Commodore Simcoe tried to bring
about an understanding between the two sections of the town. He was asked not
to interfere in what did not concern him. He had to navigate the island, let
him navigate it. He had reefs to avoid, let him avoid them. Politics were not
his business.
Commodore Simcoe did as he was
told.
Religious passions began to enter
into the debate, and the clergy
—
in
which they were perhaps wrong
—
interfered
more than was desirable. They had been living in such accord, the temple and
the cathedral, the pastor and the bishop.
The newspapers, of course,
descended into the arena. The
New Herald
fought for the Tankerdons,
The
Starboard Chronicle
for the Coverleys. Ink flowed in deluges, and it was to
be feared that the ink would be mingled with blood! Great Heaven! Had it not
already been too much sprinkled, this virgin soil of Floating Island, during
the struggle with the savages of the New Hebrides!
The bulk of the population were
chiefly interested in the two young people, whose romance had been interrupted
at the first chapter. But what could they do to make them happy? Already
communications had ceased between the two sections of Milliard city. No more
receptions, invitations, musical evenings. If this sort of thing lasted, the
instruments of the Quartette Party might go mouldy in their cases, and our
artistes earn their enormous salaries with their hands in their pockets.