by Jules Verne
But as the situation grew worse, as the sufferings increased, and especially as hunger clouded the mind, there was a growing tendency to regard Harry Killer's whim as being of first importance, although by now he himself might have forgotten about it. This idea, once it had got into the workmen's heads, could not be got rid of, and, like the well known phenomenon of crystalization, it had absorbed all the others.
By now it had become an accepted fact. It was no longer a matter for discussion among the workers that if they were suffering, if they were undergoing hardships, if they were enduring a siege and were starving, it was solely because of the charms of Miss Blazon. If she would give herself up, peace would at once be restored. To. go on to declare that the sacrifice was out of all proportion to its object, and that it was preposterous to condemn a hundred and fifty people to save one solitary individual, was only a step, and that was quickly taken.
Jane could not be unaware of this development in the thoughts of the workmen. From the few words which reached her ears, the malevolent glances which she surprised when she crossed one or other of the workshops, she had inferred their dislike, and realized that they regarded her as responsible for the risks they were running.
Although she was far from according lo herself the importance implied in this opinion, she could not but be influenced by its unanimity. So, little by little, she came to feel that if she were to surrender to Harry Killer, that sacrifice would certainly have the effect of freeing the rest of the garrison.
Needless to say, it would be horrible to live with someone whom she vehemently suspected of being her brother's murderer. But apart from the fact that this accusation was not yet fully justified, if the effort went beyond her courage she could always seek refuge in death. Moreover, however dreadful it might be, this was undoubtedly her duty.
Gradually she became so fully convinced of this belief that she could no longer keep from disclosing it to her friends. She accused herself of cowardice, and talked of giving herself up to Harry Killer, on condition that this would assure the salvation of the others. On hearing her, poor St. Berain cried as though his heart were broken.
"You're trying to dishonour us all, Mademoiselle," Amedee Florence declared indignantly, "and to dishonour us fruitlessly into the bargain! Harry Killer feels so certain of being able to get you one of these days that he will not pay the slightest price for his gratification. Besides, you can be certain he would never keep his promises even if he made them."
Barsac, Dr. Chatonnay, and even M. Poncin supported him, and Jane had to renounce a project as generous as it was absurd.
Now that the tunnel was finished, moreover, there was no longer any need for such a proposal. In a few hours Tongane was to escape, and on the following day he would no doubt give the signal for the revolt and the freeing of the garrison.
During the afternoon of the 30th, the smaller cone was put in position, and at sunset it began to excavate the vertical well. Nothing delayed this part of the work. Before midnight the tube opened into the air, and thefaithful Tongane vanished into the darkness.
The vertical tube was then withdrawn, and the sand, collapsing after it, completely filled the hole which it had left. On the surface of the ground there might remain a small funnel shaped opening more or less deep, but in the absence of any other indication the besiegers could never imagine any relationship between this and the Factory, a hundred and fifty yards away.
If the plan of Blackland town had been accurate enough, it was clear that the upstream part of the Factory faced an area of the wall between the White Quarter and from that of the slaves.
It was from that comer that when Tongane found the situation favourable, he was to give the signal to send on the weapons. It was therefore towards this point that, from the evening of the first of May, attention of the garrison was concentrated; they were grouped together on a scaffolding erected by Camaret above the workmen's houses nearest to the Red River.
As one might have expected, however, the first attempts were vain. Even if Tongane had succeeded in his enterprise, he could scarcely have arrived in the Black quarter. He needed time to explain matters and to organize the revolt.
On the next day, however, no signal could be seen, and the garrison began to get uneasy. They reassured themselves, however, by saying that that night the full moon was too brilliant for them to send on the weapons which were piled up in readiness upon the scaffolding.
Nevertheless, on the 3rd of May, the anxiety of the garrison became more intense, for that evening the dense clouds made the night dark in spite of the moon. Tongane's failure to act was especially serious because on that day the last fragments of food were consumed. Before two more days, or three at the most, they must either succeed, or surrender, or resign themselves to dying of hunger.
To the garrison it seemed that the 4th of May would never end, and they awaited the darkness with feverish impatience. But again that evening no signal appeared on the wall of the Blacks quarters.
The 5th of May began under the most unhappy auspices. They had been fasting for two dnys, and their stomachs were crying out with hunger. The workshops were deserted. The workmen, their wives, and their children, wandered with furious looks about the Factory. Before another forty-eight hours, if nothing happened, they would have to give themselves up, bound hand and foot, to their conqueror.
Groups assembled and exchanged bitter words. They did not hesitate to accuse Tongane of having forgotten those whom he had promised to deliver. Indeed, they declared the Negro would be very stupid if he worried about them!
Passing near one of these groups, Jane Blazon heard her name spoken. Surrounded by several of their comrades, a workman and a woman were arguing with as much violence as their weakness permitted, so violently indeed that Jane could stop and listen to them without being noticed.
"They can say what they like," the man shouted, careless of whether he was overheard or otherwise, "but all the same it's too much of a good thing to have to put up with all this for the sake of that little madam. If she belonged to me!... ."
"Aren't you ashamed to talk like that?" asked the woman.
"Ashamed! . . . You're joking, mother! . . . I've got a kid in the family, I have, and he's crying for food."
"But haven't I got a kid, too?"
"If it suits you for him to the of hunger, that's all very well. That won't keep me, if we're still here tomorrow, from going to find the boss, and we can both tell him about it. We can't all stay here for the sake of that lady, may the devil Hy away with her!"
"You're only a coward!" the woman exclaimed indig-nantly.I've got my kids, but I'd sooner they were under the ground than play such a dirty trick!"
"Everyone to his taste," the workman ended the discussion. "We'll see tomorrow."
Jane Blazon was overcome, stricken to the heart. So that was how they spoke about her openly, that was how these unhappy people thought of her, as the sole cause of their sufferings! The idea was intolerable. But what could she do to show them they were wrong?
Hour by hour, minute by minute, that day, the 5th of May, crept wearily to its end. The sun set. The night fell. For the third time since Tongane had set out, thick clouds covered the moon, and the darkness was profound. Would the Negro take advantage of these favourable circumstances and give the long-awaited signal?
Although they no longer hoped, all eyes were fixed, as before, on that angle of the wall whence the signal was to be given. Seven, eight, half past eight, rang out from the Factory clock. They waited in vain.
A few minutes after half past eight a shudder ran through the anxious assembly. No, Tongane had not forsaken them! Above the wall of the Black quarter the signal had at last appeared!
They acted without losing an instant. On Camaret's instructions a strange looking contrivance was brought to the top of the scaffolding. It was a cannon, a real cannon, though without wheels or gun-carriage, and though constructed of wood. Into the hollow of that strange bombard, made out of a tree-t
runk, was placed a projectile; then a powerful jet of compressed air launched this silently into space.
It took with it a double hawser of steel fastened to a grapnel which, if all went well, would hook on to the crest of the wall of the slave's quarter.
The weight of the projectile, the degree of compression of the air, the pointing of the cannon, the shape and position of the grapnel, all had been carefully worked out by Camaret, who would not leave to anyone else the tasks of discharging this strange piece of artillery.
Silently the projectile soared over the quay, the river, the Merry Fellows' quarters, and fell into that of theBlacks. Had they succeeded and was the grapnel fast to the top of the wall?
Camaret gently moved the pulley over which the hawser passed. Soon it checked and resisted his efforts. Yes, the scheme had been crowned with success. Now an aerial roadway united the garrison to the slaves.
Along that road transport of the weapons at once began. First a packet of explosives was sent across, then four thousand knives, axes and pikes. By eleven the operation was complete. They all left the scaffold and, arming themselves with whatever came to hand, they formed up behind the great door. Massed in a compact group, the women in their midst, they waited for an opportune moment to intervene.
But someone was lacking from that group: a woman, Jane Blazon.
St. Berain, Amedee Florence, Barsac and Dr. Chatonnay vainly shouted her name until the echoes rang, and vainly sought for her everywhere. They could not find her.
Aided by some of the good hearted "workmen, they renewed their efforts without any more success. The Factory was fruitlessly searched from end to end.
They had to yield to the evidence. Jane had disappeared.
CHAPTER XI
WHAT THERE WAS BEHIND THE DOOR
Jane Blazon had certainly gone off, and in the easiest possible way. She simply went out without difficulty through the door, which she found merely bolted and not locked as usual. Enquiry showed that the man on duty at the cycloscope had seen her leaving the Factory but had not recognized her. His orders forbidding him to cause bloodshed except where absolutely necessary, he had not wanted to use one of the wasps against a solitary individual who, moreover, far from seeking to enter the Factory, was in fact leaving it.
The lookout's report showed that Jane, after leaving the Factory, had followed the quay upstream. Thus no illusion was possible; there could be no doubt that she had put into effect the plan which the others had opposed, and was most judiciously going to give herself up to Harry Killer just at the very moment when her sacrifice was no longer needed.
The quay which downstream ended on the circular road was closed, upstream, by the Esplanade walls; this transformed it into a blind alley. Here, however, an armoured gte was let into the wall. This gate, normally shut, and lo which Marcel Camaret and Harry Killer alone held the key, had been left open since hostilities had begun. Unless the Merry Fellows barred her way, therefore, Jane Blazon could have reached the Esplanade and followed it to the Palace.
It was in a moment of despair that she had taken flight. For everyone to believe that they were sacrificing themselves solely for her sake and accuse her of being the cause of all their distress, that thought horrified her, and she was no less horrified to feel herself hated by all these wretches whom she saw suffering around her. But suppose they were right? Suppose she were indeed the only booty which Harry Killer hoped to gain from the struggle? Were that possible, then any delay would be criminal, and she blamed herself for having so long hesitated to seek this chance of saving so many of her fellows. And even if the garrison were mistaken, unlikely though this seemed, in regarding their salvation as resting solely on her, did not her honour demand that she should show them their mistake, even at the cost of her life?
Tongane's delay in giving the signal so anxiously looked for had allowed time for her thoughts to dominate a mind rendered less lucid by hardships. So, at last, on the evening of the 5th of May. she suddenly lost her head, and rushed to carry out what she regarded as her duty.
Without noticing it, hardly aware of what she was doing, she gently opened the door and slipped through it; then, after silently closing the door, she set off towards the Palace, striving to hide against the wall so brightly lit by the Factory's searchlights.
Like the lookout at the cycloscope, the Merry Fellows posted on the exterior wall of the town, where the quay crossed the circular road, had at once noticed her. But they had not thought it their duty to open fire on a solitary shadow which might in fact have something to do with their own side.
So Jane arrived without difficulty on the Esplanade and went on through the unlocked gale. Following the wall along the bank of the Red River, she courageously came out on to that broad space without troubling about the groups of the Merry Fellows between which she had to pass. So startled were they by her audacity that she covered the greater part of the distance without being molested, and she was only about twenty steps from the Palace when two men emerged from one of the groups to challenge her.
These men had happened to see her, before the prisoners escaped, moving lively about the Palace. When thev recognized her, they uttered surprised exclamations; uncertain about her object, uneasy because of the favour which their Chief had shown her, and not knowing what to do, they not merely let her pass without raising any objection but even escorted her as far as the Palace, and opened the door to admit her.
The moment she crossed the threshold, the door shut behind her. Whether she wished it or not she would henceforth lie in the power of Harry Killer, and without the slightest hope that anyone could come to her aid.
In the Palace her arrival aroused the same surprise as on the Esplanade. The black servant who admitted her hastened to lead her to the Master. She followed him up the stairs, along the galleries and the dark corridors, and at last into a brilliantly lit room, which she at once recognized. It was the Throne Room, as Amedee Florence facetiously called it, into which the prisoners had been thrust for their only interview with the despot of Blackland, and whose only furniture had consisted of a table and an armchair.
The armchair was there still, and as before Harry Killer was sprawled in it, behind a table loaded with bottles and glasses. But armchair and table no longer formed the only furniture. Nine other chairs had been brought in; one of these was vacant, and in the others, eight brutal looking men were lounging and drinking. Harry Killer was carousing with his Counsellors.
On seeing the girl framed in the doorway, these nine half drunken men roused themselves with grunts of surprise. Nothing could have taken them so much aback as this unexpected appearance of one of the Factory garrison.
They jumped up, all shouting: "Miss Mornas!"
"Alone? . . ." asked Harry Killer. Leaning forward on the table he threw an uneasy glance towards the corridor which appeared behind the door as a dark oblong.
"Alone," Jane replied in a voice at once determined and trembling; her legs were giving way under her, and she had to lean against the doorpost.
For a few seconds the nine men, overcome with surprise, gazed silently at the girl. For her to have come and to be there alone was absolutely amazing. She, the focus of their gaze, felt increasingly confused, and she began very bitterly to regret her rashness.
"You've come from down there?" Harry Killer at last enquired thickly, pointing towards the Factory.
"Yes," Jane Blazon whispered.
"What have you come here for?"
His tone was less than amiable. Jane realized that the starving wretches in the Factory must have been mistaken when they regarded her as being solely responsible for their misfortunes. More than ever she feared that her sacrifice would do nothing to ease their burden.
"I've come to give myself up," she murmured, in spite of her deep humiliation as she realized the slight value they seemed to place on her sacrifice.
"Well! Well!" said Harry Killer sardonically; then, turning towards his companions, he added, "Leave us alone
, comrades."
The eight Counsellors arose, all more or less unsteady on their feet. "That's all right, we'll leave you," said one of them, with a broad grin.
They were just reaching the door when Harry Killer halted them with a gesture and turned towards Jane Blazon: "I needn't ask what happened to Tchoumouki," he said, "I've found the bits! But what about the other one with him?"
"It wasn't we who killed Tchoumouki," Jane replied.
"He died in the explosion, trying to blow up the heliplane. His comrade was wounded at the same time, and they're tending him in the Factory."
"Alia! . . ." said Harry Killer. "What about the heliplane?"
"Destroyed," answered Jane.
Harry Killer rubbed his hands with satisfaction, while his eight Counsellors disappeared. "So you've come to give yourself up, have you?" he asked, when he was alone with her. "And why are you giving yourself up?"
"To save the others," Jane replied courageously.
"Impossible!" exclaimed Harry Killer, with a chuckle. "So they've got to the end of their tether, have they?"
"Yes," Jane declared, lowering her eyes.
Filled with delight, Harry Killer poured out a large bumper of alcohol, which he swallowed at a single gulp. "Well?" he asked when he'd finished drinking.
"Some time ago," Jane murmured, her face red with shame, "you wanted me to be your wife. I agree, on condition that you let the others go."
"On condition! . . ." exclaimed Harry Killer in surprise. "How do you fancy things are, child? As the folk in the Factory are played out, I shall have them tomorrow or the day after, and you into the bargain. It wasn't worth your while coming this evening, it only puts me a day ahead."
He got up and staggered towards her. "You've got cheek, to ask for conditions! . . ." he exclaimed. "Conditions for becoming my wife! Well, you'll be my wife when I want you to. And now, just how are you going, to stop me? Wouldn't I like to know]"
