The Mysterious Island (69 page)

"I do not think so," answered the engineer, "for they would naturally
suppose that our researches would be in that direction. The corral is
only a storehouse to them, and not a definitive encampment."

"I am of Cyrus' opinion," said the reporter, "and I think that it is
among the spurs of Mount Franklin that the convicts will have made their
lair."

"Then, captain, straight to the corral!" cried Pencroft. "We must finish
them off, and till now we have only lost time!"

"No, my friend," replied the engineer; "you forget that we have a reason
for wishing to know if the forests of the Far West do not contain some
habitation. Our exploration has a double object, Pencroft. If, on the
one hand, we have to chastise crime, we have, on the other, an act of
gratitude to perform."

"That was well said, captain," replied the sailor, "but, all the same,
it is my opinion that we shall not find the gentleman until he pleases."

And truly Pencroft only expressed the opinion of all. It was probable
that the stranger's retreat was not less mysterious than was he himself.

That evening the cart halted at the mouth of Falls River. The camp was
organized as usual, and the customary precautions were taken for the
night. Herbert, become again the healthy and vigorous lad he was before
his illness, derived great benefit from this life in the open air,
between the sea breezes and the vivifying air from the forests. His
place was no longer in the cart, but at the head of the troop.

The next day, the 19th of February, the colonists, leaving the shore,
where, beyond the mouth, basalts of every shape were so picturesquely
piled up, ascended the river by its left bank. The road had been already
partly cleared in their former excursions made from the corral to the
west coast. The settlers were now about six miles from Mount Franklin.

The engineer's plan was this:—To minutely survey the valley forming
the bed of the river, and to cautiously approach the neighborhood of the
corral; if the corral was occupied, to seize it by force; if it was not,
to entrench themselves there and make it the center of the operations
which had for their object the exploration of Mount Franklin.

This plan was unanimously approved by the colonists, for they were
impatient to regain entire possession of their island.

They made their way then along the narrow valley separating two of the
largest spurs of Mount Franklin. The trees, crowded on the river's bank,
became rare on the upper slopes of the mountain. The ground was hilly
and rough, very suitable for ambushes, and over which they did not
venture without extreme precaution. Top and Jup skirmished on the
flanks, springing right and left through the thick brushwood, and
emulating each other in intelligence and activity. But nothing showed
that the banks of the stream had been recently frequented—nothing
announced either the presence or the proximity of the convicts. Towards
five in the evening the cart stopped nearly 600 feet from the palisade.
A semicircular screen of trees still hid it.

It was necessary to reconnoiter the corral, in order to ascertain if it
was occupied. To go there openly, in broad daylight, when the convicts
were probably in ambush, would be to expose themselves, as poor Herbert
had done, to the firearms of the ruffians. It was better, then, to wait
until night came on.

However, Gideon Spilett wished without further delay to reconnoiter the
approaches to the corral, and Pencroft, who was quite out of patience,
volunteered to accompany him.

"No, my friends," said the engineer, "wait till night. I will not allow
one of you to expose himself in open day."

"But, captain—" answered the sailor, little disposed to obey.

"I beg of you, Pencroft," said the engineer.

"Very well!" replied the sailor, who vented his anger in another way, by
bestowing on the convicts the worst names in his maritime vocabulary.

The colonists remained, therefore, near the cart, and carefully watched
the neighboring parts of the forest.

Three hours passed thus. The wind had fallen, and absolute silence
reigned under the great trees. The snapping of the smallest twig, a
footstep on the dry leaves, the gliding of a body among the grass, would
have been heard without difficulty. All was quiet. Besides, Top, lying
on the grass, his head stretched out on his paws, gave no sign of
uneasiness. At eight o'clock the day appeared far enough advanced for
the reconnaissance to be made under favorable conditions. Gideon Spilett
declared himself ready to set out accompanied by Pencroft. Cyrus Harding
consented. Top and Jup were to remain with the engineer, Herbert, and
Neb, for a bark or a cry at a wrong moment would give the alarm.

"Do not be imprudent," said Harding to the reporter and Pencroft, "you
have not to gain possession of the corral, but only to find out whether
it is occupied or not."

"All right," answered Pencroft.

And the two departed.

Under the trees, thanks to the thickness of their foliage, the obscurity
rendered any object invisible beyond a radius of from thirty to forty
feet. The reporter and Pencroft, halting at any suspicious sound,
advanced with great caution.

They walked a little distance apart from each other so as to offer a
less mark for a shot. And, to tell the truth, they expected every moment
to hear a report. Five minutes after leaving the cart, Gideon Spilett
and Pencroft arrived at the edge of the wood before the clearing beyond
which rose the palisade.

They stopped. A few straggling beams still fell on the field clear of
trees. Thirty feet distant was the gate of the corral, which appeared
to be closed. This thirty feet, which it was necessary to cross from
the wood to the palisade, constituted the dangerous zone, to borrow
a ballistic term: in fact, one or more bullets fired from behind the
palisade might knock over any one who ventured on to this zone. Gideon
Spilett and the sailor were not men to draw back, but they knew that
any imprudence on their part, of which they would be the first victims,
would fall afterwards on their companions. If they themselves were
killed, what would become of Harding, Neb, and Herbert?

But Pencroft, excited at feeling himself so near the corral where he
supposed the convicts had taken refuge, was about to press forward, when
the reporter held him back with a grasp of iron.

"In a few minutes it will be quite dark," whispered Spilett in the
sailor's ear, "then will be the time to act."

Pencroft, convulsively clasping the butt-end of his gun, restrained his
energies, and waited, swearing to himself.

Soon the last of the twilight faded away. Darkness, which seemed as if
it issued from the dense forest, covered the clearing. Mount Franklin
rose like an enormous screen before the western horizon, and night
spread rapidly over all, as it does in regions of low latitudes. Now was
the time.

The reporter and Pencroft, since posting themselves on the edge of the
wood, had not once lost sight of the palisade. The corral appeared to
be absolutely deserted. The top of the palisade formed a line, a
little darker than the surrounding shadow, and nothing disturbed its
distinctness. Nevertheless, if the convicts were there, they must have
posted one of their number to guard against any surprise.

Spilett grasped his companion's hand, and both crept towards the corral,
their guns ready to fire.

They reached the gate without the darkness being illuminated by a single
ray of light.

Pencroft tried to push open the gate, which, as the reporter and he had
supposed, was closed. However, the sailor was able to ascertain that the
outer bars had not been put up. It might, then, be concluded that the
convicts were there in the corral, and that very probably they had
fastened the gate in such a way that it could not be forced open.

Gideon Spilett and Pencroft listened.

Not a sound could be heard inside the palisade. The musmons and the
goats, sleeping no doubt in their huts, in no way disturbed the calm of
night.

The reporter and the sailor hearing nothing, asked themselves whether
they had not better scale the palisades and penetrate into the corral.
This would have been contrary to Cyrus Harding's instructions.

It is true that the enterprise might succeed, but it might also fail.
Now, if the convicts were suspecting nothing, if they knew nothing of
the expedition against them, if, lastly, there now existed a chance
of surprising them, ought this chance to be lost by inconsiderately
attempting to cross the palisades?

This was not the reporter's opinion. He thought it better to wait until
all the settlers were collected together before attempting to penetrate
into the corral. One thing was certain, that it was possible to reach
the palisade without being seen, and also that it did not appear to be
guarded. This point settled, there was nothing to be done but to return
to the cart, where they would consult.

Pencroft probably agreed with this decision, for he followed the
reporter without making any objection when the latter turned back to the
wood.

In a few minutes the engineer was made acquainted with the state of
affairs.

"Well," said he, after a little thought, "I now have reason to believe
that the convicts are not in the corral."

"We shall soon know," said Pencroft, "when we have scaled the palisade."

"To the corral, my friends!" said Cyrus Harding.

"Shall we leave the cart in the wood?" asked Neb.

"No," replied the engineer, "it is our wagon of ammunition and
provisions, and, if necessary, it would serve as an entrenchment."

"Forward, then!" said Gideon Spilett.

The cart emerged from the wood and began to roll noiselessly towards the
palisade. The darkness was now profound, the silence as complete as
when Pencroft and the reporter crept over the ground. The thick grass
completely muffled their footsteps. The colonists held themselves ready
to fire. Jup, at Pencroft's orders, kept behind. Neb led Top in a leash,
to prevent him from bounding forward.

The clearing soon came in sight. It was deserted. Without hesitating,
the little band moved towards the palisade. In a short space of time the
dangerous zone was passed. Neb remained at the onagers' heads to hold
them. The engineer, the reporter, Herbert, and Pencroft, proceeded to
the door, in order to ascertain if it was barricaded inside. It was
open!

"What do you say now?" asked the engineer, turning to the sailor and
Spilett.

Both were stupefied.

"I can swear," said Pencroft, "that this gate was shut just now!"

The colonists now hesitated. Were the convicts in the corral when
Pencroft and the reporter made their reconnaissance? It could not be
doubted, as the gate then closed could only have been opened by them.
Were they still there, or had one of their number just gone out?

All these questions presented themselves simultaneously to the minds of
the colonists, but how could they be answered?

At that moment, Herbert, who had advanced a few steps into the
enclosure, drew back hurriedly, and seized Harding's hand.

"What's the matter?" asked the engineer.

"A light!"

"In the house?"

"Yes!"

All five advanced and indeed, through the window fronting them, they saw
glimmering a feeble light. Cyrus Harding made up his mind rapidly. "It
is our only chance," said he to his companions, "of finding the convicts
collected in this house, suspecting nothing! They are in our power!
Forward!" The colonists crossed through the enclosure, holding their
guns ready in their hands. The cart had been left outside under the
charge of Jup and Top, who had been prudently tied to it.

Cyrus Harding, Pencroft, and Gideon Spilett on one side, Herbert and Neb
on the other, going along by the palisade, surveyed the absolutely dark
and deserted corral.

In a few moments they were near the closed door of the house.

Harding signed to his companions not to stir, and approached the window,
then feebly lighted by the inner light.

He gazed into the apartment.

On the table burned a lantern. Near the table was the bed formerly used
by Ayrton.

On the bed lay the body of a man.

Suddenly Cyrus Harding drew back, and in a hoarse voice,—"Ayrton!" he
exclaimed.

Immediately the door was forced rather than opened, and the colonists
rushed into the room.

Ayrton appeared to be asleep. His countenance showed that he had long
and cruelly suffered. On his wrists and ankles could be seen great
bruises.

Harding bent over him.

"Ayrton!" cried the engineer, seizing the arm of the man whom he had
just found again under such unexpected circumstances.

At this exclamation Ayrton opened his eyes, and, gazing at Harding, then
at the others,—

"You!" he cried, "you?"

"Ayrton! Ayrton!" repeated Harding.

"Where am I?"

"In the house in the corral!"

"Alone?"

"Yes!"

"But they will come back!" cried Ayrton. "Defend yourselves! defend
yourselves!"

And he fell back exhausted.

"Spilett," exclaimed the engineer, "we may be attacked at any moment.
Bring the cart into the corral. Then, barricade the door, and all come
back here."

Pencroft, Neb, and the reporter hastened to execute the engineer's
orders. There was not a moment to be lost. Perhaps even now the cart was
in the hands of the convicts!

In a moment the reporter and his two companions had crossed the corral
and reached the gate of the palisade behind which Top was heard growling
sullenly.

The engineer, leaving Ayrton for an instant, came out ready to fire.
Herbert was at his side. Both surveyed the crest of the spur overlooking
the corral. If the convicts were lying in ambush there, they might knock
the settlers over one after the other.