The Mysterious Island (73 page)

Cyrus Harding explained these things to his companions, and, without
exaggerating the state of things, he told them all the pros and cons.
After all, they could not prevent it. It did not appear likely that
Granite House would be threatened unless the ground was shaken by an
earthquake. But the corral would be in great danger should a new crater
open in the southern side of Mount Franklin.

From that day the smoke never disappeared from the top of the mountain,
and it could even be perceived that it increased in height and
thickness, without any flame mingling in its heavy volumes. The
phenomenon was still concentrated in the lower part of the central
crater.

However, with the fine days work had been continued. The building of the
vessel was hastened as much as possible, and, by means of the waterfall
on the shore, Cyrus Harding managed to establish an hydraulic sawmill,
which rapidly cut up the trunks of trees into planks and joists. The
mechanism of this apparatus was as simple as those used in the rustic
sawmills of Norway. A first horizontal movement to move the piece of
wood, a second vertical movement to move the saw—this was all that was
wanted; and the engineer succeeded by means of a wheel, two cylinders,
and pulleys properly arranged. Towards the end of the month of September
the skeleton of the vessel, which was to be rigged as a schooner, lay
in the dockyard. The ribs were almost entirely completed, and, all the
timbers having been sustained by a provisional band, the shape of the
vessel could already be seen. The schooner, sharp in the bows, very
slender in the after-part, would evidently be suitable for a long
voyage, if wanted; but laying the planking would still take a
considerable time. Very fortunately, the iron work of the pirate brig
had been saved after the explosion. From the planks and injured ribs
Pencroft and Ayrton had extracted the bolts and a large quantity
of copper nails. It was so much work saved for the smiths, but the
carpenters had much to do.

Shipbuilding was interrupted for a week for the harvest, the haymaking,
and the gathering in of the different crops on the plateau. This work
finished, every moment was devoted to finishing the schooner. When night
came the workmen were really quite exhausted. So as not to lose any
time they had changed the hours for their meals; they dined at twelve
o'clock, and only had their supper when daylight failed them. They then
ascended to Granite House, when they were always ready to go to bed.

Sometimes, however, when the conversation bore on some interesting
subject the hour for sleep was delayed for a time. The colonists then
spoke of the future, and talked willingly of the changes which a voyage
in the schooner to inhabited lands would make in their situation.
But always, in the midst of these plans, prevailed the thought of a
subsequent return to Lincoln Island. Never would they abandon this
colony, founded with so much labor and with such success, and to which
a communication with America would afford a fresh impetus. Pencroft and
Neb especially hoped to end their days there.

"Herbert," said the sailor, "you will never abandon Lincoln Island?"

"Never, Pencroft, and especially if you make up your mind to stay
there."

"That was made up long ago, my boy," answered Pencroft. "I shall expect
you. You will bring me your wife and children, and I shall make jolly
chaps of your youngsters!"

"That's agreed," replied Herbert, laughing and blushing at the same
time.

"And you, Captain Harding," resumed Pencroft enthusiastically, "you will
be still the governor of the island! Ah, how many inhabitants could it
support? Ten thousand at least!"

They talked in this way, allowing Pencroft to run on, and at last the
reporter actually started a newspaper—the New Lincoln Herald!

So is man's heart. The desire to perform a work which will endure, which
will survive him, is the origin of his superiority over all other living
creatures here below. It is this which has established his dominion, and
this it is which justifies it, over all the world.

After that, who knows if Jup and Top had not themselves their little
dream of the future.

Ayrton silently said to himself that he would like to see Lord Glenarvan
again and show himself to all restored.

One evening, on the 15th of October, the conversation was prolonged
later than usual. It was nine o'clock. Already, long badly concealed
yawns gave warning of the hour of rest, and Pencroft was proceeding
towards his bed, when the electric bell, placed in the dining-room,
suddenly rang.

All were there, Cyrus Harding, Gideon Spilett, Herbert, Ayrton,
Pencroft, Neb. Therefore none of the colonists were at the corral.

Cyrus Harding rose. His companions stared at each other, scarcely
believing their ears.

"What does that mean?" cried Neb. "Was it the devil who rang it?"

No one answered.

"The weather is stormy," observed Herbert. "Might not its influence of
electricity—"

Herbert did not finish his phrase. The engineer, towards whom all eyes
were turned, shook his head negatively.

"We must wait," said Gideon Spilett. "If it is a signal, whoever it may
be who has made it, he will renew it."

"But who do you think it is?" cried Neb.

"Who?" answered Pencroft, "but he—"

The sailor's sentence was cut short by a new tinkle of the bell.

Harding went to the apparatus, and sent this question to the corral:—

"What do you want?"

A few moments later the needle, moving on the alphabetic dial, gave this
reply to the tenants of Granite House:—

"Come to the corral immediately."

"At last!" exclaimed Harding.

Yes! At last! The mystery was about to be unveiled. The colonists'
fatigue had disappeared before the tremendous interest which was about
to urge them to the corral, and all wish for rest had ceased. Without
having uttered a word, in a few moments they had left Granite House,
and were standing on the beach. Jup and Top alone were left behind. They
could do without them.

The night was black. The new moon had disappeared at the same time as
the sun. As Herbert had observed, great stormy clouds formed a lowering
and heavy vault, preventing any star rays. A few lightning flashes,
reflections from a distant storm, illuminated the horizon.

It was possible that a few hours later the thunder would roll over the
island itself. The night was very threatening.

But however deep the darkness was, it would not prevent them from
finding the familiar road to the corral.

They ascended the left bank of the Mercy, reached the plateau, passed
the bridge over Creek Glycerine, and advanced through the forest.

They walked at a good pace, a prey to the liveliest emotions. There was
no doubt but that they were now going to learn the long-searched-for
answer to the enigma, the name of that mysterious being, so deeply
concerned in their life, so generous in his influence, so powerful
in his action! Must not this stranger have indeed mingled with their
existence, have known the smallest details, have heard all that was said
in Granite House, to have been able always to act in the very nick of
time?

Every one, wrapped up in his own reflections, pressed forward. Under the
arch of trees the darkness was such that even the edge of the road
could not be seen. Not a sound in the forest. Both animals and birds,
influenced by the heaviness of the atmosphere, remained motionless
and silent. Not a breath disturbed the leaves. The footsteps of the
colonists alone resounded on the hardened ground.

During the first quarter of an hour the silence was only interrupted by
this remark from Pencroft:—

"We ought to have brought a torch."

And by this reply from the engineer:—

"We shall find one at the corral."

Harding and his companions had left Granite House at twelve minutes past
nine. At forty-seven minutes past nine they had traversed three out of
the five miles which separated the mouth of the Mercy from the corral.

At that moment sheets of lightning spread over the island and illumined
the dark trees. The flashes dazzled and almost blinded them. Evidently
the storm would not be long in bursting forth.

The flashes gradually became brighter and more rapid. Distant thunder
growled in the sky. The atmosphere was stifling.

The colonists proceeded as if they were urged onwards by some
irresistible force.

At ten o'clock a vivid flash showed them the palisade, and as they
reached the gate the storm burst forth with tremendous fury.

In a minute the corral was crossed, and Harding stood before the hut.

Probably the house was occupied by the stranger, since it was from
thence that the telegram had been sent. However, no light shone through
the window.

The engineer knocked at the door.

No answer.

Cyrus Harding opened the door, and the settlers entered the room, which
was perfectly dark. A light was struck by Neb, and in a few moments the
lantern was lighted and the light thrown into every corner of the room.

There was no one there. Everything was in the state in which it had been
left.

"Have we been deceived by an illusion?" murmured Cyrus Harding.

No! that was not possible! The telegram had clearly said,—

"Come to the corral immediately."

They approached the table specially devoted to the use of the wire.
Everything was in order—the pile on the box containing it, as well as
all the apparatus.

"Who came here the last time?" asked the engineer.

"I did, captain," answered Ayrton.

"And that was—"

"Four days ago."

"Ah! a note!" cried Herbert, pointing to a paper lying on the table.

On this paper were written these words in English:—

"Follow the new wire."

"Forward!" cried Harding, who understood that the despatch had not been
sent from the corral, but from the mysterious retreat, communicating
directly with Granite House by means of a supplementary wire joined to
the old one.

Neb took the lighted lantern, and all left the corral. The storm
then burst forth with tremendous violence. The interval between each
lightning-flash and each thunder-clap diminished rapidly. The summit
of the volcano, with its plume of vapor, could be seen by occasional
flashes.

There was no telegraphic communication in any part of the corral between
the house and the palisade; but the engineer, running straight to the
first post, saw by the light of a flash a new wire hanging from the
isolator to the ground.

"There it is!" said he.

This wire lay along the ground, and was surrounded with an isolating
substance like a submarine cable, so as to assure the free transmission
of the current. It appeared to pass through the wood and the southern
spurs of the mountain, and consequently it ran towards the west.

"Follow it!" said Cyrus Harding.

And the settlers immediately pressed forward, guided by the wire.

The thunder continued to roar with such violence that not a word could
be heard. However, there was no occasion for speaking, but to get
forward as fast as possible.

Cyrus Harding and his companions then climbed the spur rising between
the corral valley and that of Falls River, which they crossed at its
narrowest part. The wire, sometimes stretched over the lower branches
of the trees, sometimes lying on the ground, guided them surely. The
engineer had supposed that the wire would perhaps stop at the bottom of
the valley, and that the stranger's retreat would be there.

Nothing of the sort. They were obliged to ascend the south-western spur,
and re-descend on that arid plateau terminated by the strangely-wild
basalt cliff. From time to time one of the colonists stooped down and
felt for the wire with his hands; but there was now no doubt that the
wire was running directly towards the sea. There, to a certainty, in the
depths of those rocks, was the dwelling so long sought for in vain.

The sky was literally on fire. Flash succeeded flash. Several struck the
summit of the volcano in the midst of the thick smoke. It appeared there
as if the mountain was vomiting flame. At a few minutes to eleven the
colonists arrived on the high cliff overlooking the ocean to the west.
The wind had risen. The surf roared 500 feet below.

Harding calculated that they had gone a mile and a half from the corral.

At this point the wire entered among the rocks, following the steep side
of a narrow ravine. The settlers followed it at the risk of occasioning
a fall of the slightly-balanced rocks, and being dashed into the sea.
The descent was extremely perilous, but they did not think of the
danger; they were no longer masters of themselves, and an irresistible
attraction drew them towards this mysterious place as the magnet draws
iron.

Thus they almost unconsciously descended this ravine, which even in
broad daylight would have been considered impracticable.

The stones rolled and sparkled like fiery balls when they crossed
through the gleams of light. Harding was first—Ayrton last. On they
went, step by step. Now they slid over the slippery rock; then they
struggled to their feet and scrambled on.

At last the wire touched the rocks on the beach. The colonists had
reached the bottom of the basalt cliff.

There appeared a narrow ridge, running horizontally and parallel with
the sea. The settlers followed the wire along it. They had not gone a
hundred paces when the ridge by a moderate incline sloped down to the
level of the sea.

The engineer seized the wire and found that it disappeared beneath the
waves.

His companions were stupefied.

A cry of disappointment, almost a cry of despair, escaped them! Must
they then plunge beneath the water and seek there for some submarine
cavern? In their excited state they would not have hesitated to do it.