The Mysterious Island (66 page)

"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!

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.

"You did well, Neb," said Harding, "but perhaps in not warning us you
would have done still better!"

And, in speaking thus, Cyrus Harding thought of Herbert, whose recovery
the removal had so seriously checked.

Neb ended his account. The convicts had not appeared at all on the
beach. Not knowing the number of the island's inhabitants, they might
suppose that Granite House was defended by a large party. They must have
remembered that during the attack by the brig numerous shot had been
fired both from the lower and upper rocks, and no doubt they did not
wish to expose themselves. But the plateau of Prospect Heights was
open to them, and not covered by the fire of Granite House. They gave
themselves up, therefore, to their instinct of destruction,—plundering,
burning, devastating everything,—and only retiring half an hour before
the arrival of the colonists, whom they believed still confined in the
corral.

On their retreat, Neb hurried out. He climbed the plateau at the risk
of being perceived and fired at, tried to extinguish the fire which was
consuming the buildings of the poultry-yard, and had struggled, though
in vain, against it until the cart appeared at the edge of the wood.

Such had been these serious events. The presence of the convicts
constituted a permanent source of danger to the settlers in Lincoln
Island, until then so happy, and who might now expect still greater
misfortunes.

Spilett remained in Granite House with Herbert and Pencroft, while
Cyrus Harding, accompanied by Neb, proceeded to judge for himself of the
extent of the disaster.

It was fortunate that the convicts had not advanced to the foot of
Granite House. The workshop at the Chimneys would in that case not
have escaped destruction. But after all, this evil would have been more
easily reparable than the ruins accumulated on the plateau of Prospect
Heights. Harding and Neb proceeded towards the Mercy, and ascended its
left bank without meeting with any trace of the convicts; nor on the
other side of the river, in the depths of the wood, could they perceive
any suspicious indications.

Besides, it might be supposed that in all probability either the
convicts knew of the return of the settlers to Granite House, by having
seen them pass on the road from the corral, or, after the devastation of
the plateau, they had penetrated into Jacamar Wood, following the course
of the Mercy, and were thus ignorant of their return.

In the former case, they must have returned towards the corral, now
without defenders, and which contained valuable stores.

In the latter, they must have regained their encampment, and would wait
on opportunity to recommence the attack.