The Mysterious Island (55 page)

They had also some fine sporting excursions, which were made during the
frost in the vast Tadorn Marsh. Gideon Spilett and Herbert, aided by
Jup and Top, did not miss a shot in the midst of myriads of wild-duck,
snipe, teal, and others. The access to these hunting-grounds was easy;
besides, whether they reached them by the road to Port Balloon, after
having passed the Mercy Bridge, or by turning the rocks from Flotsam
Point, the hunters were never distant from Granite House more than two
or three miles.

Thus passed the four winter months, which were really rigorous, that is
to say, June, July, August, and September. But, in short, Granite House
did not suffer much from the inclemency of the weather, and it was
the same with the corral, which, less exposed than the plateau, and
sheltered partly by Mount Franklin, only received the remains of the
hurricanes, already broken by the forests and the high rocks of the
shore. The damages there were consequently of small importance, and the
activity and skill of Ayrton promptly repaired them, when some time in
October he returned to pass a few days in the corral.

During this winter, no fresh inexplicable incident occurred. Nothing
strange happened, although Pencroft and Neb were on the watch for the
most insignificant facts to which they attached any mysterious cause.
Top and Jup themselves no longer growled round the well or gave any
signs of uneasiness. It appeared, therefore, as if the series of
supernatural incidents was interrupted, although they often talked of
them during the evenings in Granite House, and they remained thoroughly
resolved that the island should be searched, even in those parts the
most difficult to explore. But an event of the highest importance, and
of which the consequences might be terrible, momentarily diverted from
their projects Cyrus Harding and his companions.

It was the month of October. The fine season was swiftly returning.
Nature was reviving; and among the evergreen foliage of the coniferae
which formed the border of the wood, already appeared the young leaves
of the banksias, deodars, and other trees.

It may be remembered that Gideon Spilett and Herbert had, at different
times, taken photographic views of Lincoln Island.

Now, on the 17th of this month of October, towards three o'clock in
the afternoon, Herbert, enticed by the charms of the sky, thought of
reproducing Union Bay, which was opposite to Prospect Heights, from Cape
Mandible to Claw Cape.

The horizon was beautifully clear, and the sea, undulating under a soft
breeze, was as calm as the waters of a lake, sparkling here and there
under the sun's rays.

The apparatus had been placed at one of the windows of the dining-room
at Granite House, and consequently overlooked the shore and the bay.
Herbert proceeded as he was accustomed to do, and the negative obtained,
he went away to fix it by means of the chemicals deposited in a dark
nook of Granite House.

Returning to the bright light, and examining it well, Herbert perceived
on his negative an almost imperceptible little spot on the sea horizon.
He endeavored to make it disappear by reiterated washing, but could not
accomplish it.

"It is a flaw in the glass," he thought.

And then he had the curiosity to examine this flaw with a strong
magnifier which he unscrewed from one of the telescopes.

But he had scarcely looked at it, when he uttered a cry, and the glass
almost fell from his hands.

Immediately running to the room in which Cyrus Harding then was, he
extended the negative and magnifier towards the engineer, pointing out
the little spot.

Harding examined it; then seizing his telescope he rushed to the window.

The telescope, after having slowly swept the horizon, at last stopped on
the looked-for spot, and Cyrus Harding, lowering it, pronounced one word
only,—

"A vessel!"

And in fact a vessel was in sight, off Lincoln Island!

It was now two years and a half since the castaways from the balloon had
been thrown on Lincoln Island, and during that period there had been no
communication between them and their fellow-creatures. Once the reporter
had attempted to communicate with the inhabited world by confiding to
a bird a letter which contained the secret of their situation, but that
was a chance on which it was impossible to reckon seriously. Ayrton,
alone, under the circumstances which have been related, had come to
join the little colony. Now, suddenly, on this day, the 17th of October,
other men had unexpectedly appeared in sight of the island, on that
deserted sea!

There could be no doubt about it! A vessel was there! But would she
pass on, or would she put into port? In a few hours the colonists would
definitely know what to expect.

Cyrus Harding and Herbert having immediately called Gideon Spilett,
Pencroft, and Neb into the dining-room of Granite House, told them
what had happened. Pencroft, seizing the telescope, rapidly swept the
horizon, and stopping on the indicated point, that is to say, on
that which had made the almost imperceptible spot on the photographic
negative,—

"I'm blessed but it is really a vessel!" he exclaimed, in a voice which
did not express any great amount of satisfaction.

"Is she coming here?" asked Gideon Spilett.

"Impossible to say anything yet," answered Pencroft, "for her rigging
alone is above the horizon, and not a bit of her hull can be seen."

"What is to be done?" asked the lad.

"Wait," replied Harding.

And for a considerable time the settlers remained silent, given up to
all the thoughts, and the emotions, all the fears, all the hopes, which
were aroused by this incident—the most important which had occurred
since their arrival in Lincoln Island. Certainly, the colonists were not
in the situation of castaways abandoned on a sterile islet, constantly
contending against a cruel nature for their miserable existence, and
incessantly tormented by the longing to return to inhabited countries.
Pencroft and Neb, especially, who felt themselves at once so happy and
so rich, would not have left their island without regret. They were
accustomed, besides, to this new life in the midst of the domain which
their intelligence had as it were civilized. But at any rate this ship
brought news from the world, perhaps even from their native land. It was
bringing fellow-creatures to them, and it may be conceived how deeply
their hearts were moved at the sight!

From time to time Pencroft took the glass and rested himself at the
window. From thence he very attentively examined the vessel, which was
at a distance of twenty miles to the east. The colonists had as yet,
therefore, no means of signalizing their presence. A flag would not have
been perceived; a gun would not have been heard; a fire would not have
been visible. However, it was certain that the island, overtopped by
Mount Franklin, could not escape the notice of the vessel's lookout. But
why was the ship coming there? Was it simple chance which brought it to
that part of the Pacific, where the maps mentioned no land except Tabor
Island, which itself was out of the route usually followed by vessels
from the Polynesian Archipelagoes, from New Zealand, and from the
American coast? To this question, which each one asked himself, a reply
was suddenly made by Herbert.

"Can it be the 'Duncan'?" he cried.

The "Duncan," as has been said, was Lord Glenarvan's yacht, which had
left Ayrton on the islet, and which was to return there someday to fetch
him. Now, the islet was not so far distant from Lincoln Island, but
that a vessel, standing for the one, could pass in sight of the other. A
hundred and fifty miles only separated them in longitude, and seventy in
latitude.

"We must tell Ayrton," said Gideon Spilett, "and send for him
immediately. He alone can say if it is the 'Duncan.'"

This was the opinion of all, and the reporter, going to the telegraphic
apparatus which placed the corral in communication with Granite House,
sent this telegram:—"Come with all possible speed."

In a few minutes the bell sounded.

"I am coming," replied Ayrton.

Then the settlers continued to watch the vessel.

"If it is the 'Duncan,'" said Herbert, "Ayrton will recognize her
without difficulty, since he sailed on board her for some time."

"And if he recognizes her," added Pencroft, "it will agitate him
exceedingly!"

"Yes," answered Cyrus Harding; "but now Ayrton is worthy to return on
board the 'Duncan,' and pray Heaven that it is indeed Lord Glenarvan's
yacht, for I should be suspicious of any other vessel. These are
ill-famed seas, and I have always feared a visit from Malay pirates to
our island."

"We could defend it,', cried Herbert.

"No doubt, my boy," answered the engineer smiling, "but it would be
better not to have to defend it."

"A useless observation," said Spilett. "Lincoln Island is unknown to
navigators, since it is not marked even on the most recent maps. Do
you think, Cyrus, that that is a sufficient motive for a ship, finding
herself unexpectedly in sight of new land, to try and visit rather than
avoid it?"

"Certainly," replied Pencroft.

"I think so too," added the engineer. "It may even be said that it is
the duty of a captain to come and survey any land or island not yet
known, and Lincoln Island is in this position."

"Well," said Pencroft, "suppose this vessel comes and anchors there a
few cables-lengths from our island, what shall we do?"

This sudden question remained at first without any reply. But Cyrus
Harding, after some moments' thought, replied in the calm tone which was
usual to him,—

"What we shall do, my friends? What we ought to do is this:—we will
communicate with the ship, we will take our passage on board her, and we
will leave our island, after having taken possession of it in the name
of the United States. Then we will return with any who may wish to
follow us to colonize it definitely, and endow the American Republic
with a useful station in this part of the Pacific Ocean!"

"Hurrah!" exclaimed Pencroft, "and that will be no small present
which we shall make to our country! The colonization is already almost
finished; names are given to every part of the island; there is
a natural port, fresh water, roads, a telegraph, a dockyard, and
manufactories; and there will be nothing to be done but to inscribe
Lincoln Island on the maps!"

"But if anyone seizes it in our absence?" observed Gideon Spilett.

"Hang it!" cried the sailor. "I would rather remain all alone to guard
it: and trust to Pencroft, they shouldn't steal it from him, like a
watch from the pocket of a swell!"

For an hour it was impossible to say with any certainty whether the
vessel was or was not standing towards Lincoln Island. She was
nearer, but in what direction was she sailing? This Pencroft could not
determine. However, as the wind was blowing from the northeast, in all
probability the vessel was sailing on the starboard tack. Besides, the
wind was favorable for bringing her towards the island, and, the sea
being calm, she would not be afraid to approach although the shallows
were not marked on the chart.

Towards four o'clock—an hour after he had been sent for—Ayrton arrived
at Granite House. He entered the dining-room saying,—

"At your service, gentlemen."

Cyrus Harding gave him his hand, as was his custom to do, and, leading
him to the window,—

"Ayrton," said he, "we have begged you to come here for an important
reason. A ship is in sight of the island."

Ayrton at first paled slightly, and for a moment his eyes became dim;
then, leaning out the window, he surveyed the horizon, but could see
nothing.

"Take this telescope," said Spilett, "and look carefully, Ayrton, for
it is possible that this ship may be the 'Duncan' come to these seas for
the purpose of taking you home again."

"The 'Duncan!'" murmured Ayrton. "Already?" This last word escaped
Ayrton's lips as if involuntarily, and his head drooped upon his hands.

Did not twelve years' solitude on a desert island appear to him a
sufficient expiation? Did not the penitent yet feel himself pardoned,
either in his own eyes or in the eyes of others?

"No," said he, "no! it cannot be the 'Duncan'!"

"Look, Ayrton," then said the engineer, "for it is necessary that we
should know beforehand what to expect."

Ayrton took the glass and pointed it in the direction indicated. During
some minutes he examined the horizon without moving, without uttering a
word. Then,—

"It is indeed a vessel," said he, "but I do not think she is the
'Duncan.'"

"Why do you not think so?" asked Gideon Spilett.

"Because the 'Duncan' is a steam-yacht, and I cannot perceive any trace
of smoke either above or near that vessel."

"Perhaps she is simply sailing," observed Pencroft. "The wind is
favorable for the direction which she appears to be taking, and she may
be anxious to economize her coal, being so far from land."

"It is possible that you may be right, Mr. Pencroft," answered Ayrton,
"and that the vessel has extinguished her fires. We must wait until she
is nearer, and then we shall soon know what to expect."

So saying, Ayrton sat down in a corner of the room and remained silent.
The colonists again discussed the strange ship, but Ayrton took no
part in the conversation. All were in such a mood that they found it
impossible to continue their work. Gideon Spilett and Pencroft were
particularly nervous, going, coming, not able to remain still in one
place. Herbert felt more curiosity. Neb alone maintained his usual
calm manner. Was not his country that where his master was? As to the
engineer, he remained plunged in deep thought, and in his heart feared
rather than desired the arrival of the ship. In the meanwhile, the
vessel was a little nearer the island. With the aid of the glass, it was
ascertained that she was a brig, and not one of those Malay proas, which
are generally used by the pirates of the Pacific. It was, therefore,
reasonable to believe that the engineer's apprehensions would not be
justified, and that the presence of this vessel in the vicinity of the
island was fraught with no danger.