The Collected Works of Jules Verne: 36 Novels and Short Stories (Unexpurgated Edition) (Halcyon Classics)

by Jules Verne

  "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 eagerness, 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 palisade?

  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 waggon of ammunition and provisions, and, if necessary, it would serve as an intrenchment."

  "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. Not a shot had been fired. When the cart reached the palisade, it stopped. Neb remained at the onagas' 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. "Alight!"

  "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.

  At that moment the moon appeared in the east, above the black curtain of the forest, and a white sheet of light spread over the interior of the enclosure. The corral, with its clumps of trees, the little stream which watered it, and its wide carpet of grass, was suddenly illuminated. From the side of the mountain, the house and a part of the palisade stood out white in the moonlight. On the opposite side towards the door, the enclosure remained dark.

  A black mass soon appeared. This was the cart entering the circle of light, and Cyrus Harding could hear the noise made by the door, as his companions shut it and fastened the i
nterior bars.

  But, at that moment, Top, breaking loose, began to bark furiously and rush to the back of the corral, to the right of the house.

  "Be ready to fire, my friends!" cried Harding.

  The colonists raised their pieces and waited the moment to fire.

  Top still barked, and Jup, running towards the dog, uttered shrill cries.

  The colonists followed him, and reached the borders of the little stream, shaded by large trees. And there, in the bright moonlight, what did they see? Five corpses, stretched on the bank!

  They were those of the convicts who, four months previously, had landed on Lincoln Island!

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

  AYRTON'S STORY--PLANS OF HIS FORMER ACCOMPLICES--THEIR INSTALLATION IN THE CORRAL--THE AVENGING JUSTICE OF LINCOLN ISLAND--THE BONADVENTURE-- RESEARCHES AROUND MOUNT FRANKLIN--THE UPPER VALLEYS--A SUBTERRANEAN VOLCANO--PENCROFT'S OPINION--AT THE BOTTOM OF THE CRATER--RETURN.

  How had it happened? Who had killed the convicts? Was it Ayrton? No, for a moment before he was dreading their return.

  But Ayrton was now in a profound stupor, from which it was no longer possible to rouse him. After uttering those few words he had again become unconscious, and had fallen back motionless on the bed.

  The colonists, a prey to a thousand confused thoughts, under the influence of violent excitement, waited all night, without leaving Ayrton's house, or returning to the spot where lay the bodies of the convicts. It was very probable that Ayrton would not be able to throw any light on the circumstances under which the bodies had been found, since he himself was not aware that he was in the corral. But at any rate he would be in a position to give an account of what had taken place before this terrible execution. The next day Ayrton awoke from his torpor, and his companions cordially manifested all the joy they felt, on seeing him again, almost safe and sound, after a hundred and four days' separation.

  Ayrton then in a few words recounted what had happened, or at least as much as he knew.

  The day after his arrival at the corral, on the 10th of last November, at nightfall, he was surprised by the convicts, who had scaled the palisade. They bound and gagged him; then he was led to a dark cavern, at the foot of Mount Franklin, where the convicts had taken refuge.

  His death had been decided upon, and the next day the convicts were about to kill him, when one of them recognised him, and called him by the name which he bore in Australia. The wretches had no scruples as to murdering Ayrton! They spared Ben Joyce!

  But from that moment Ayrton was exposed to the importunities of his former accomplices. They wished him to join them again, and relied upon his aid to enable them to gain possession of Granite House, to penetrate into that hitherto inaccessible dwelling, and to become masters of the island, after murdering the colonists!

  Ayrton remained firm. The once convict, now repentant and pardoned, would rather die than betray his companions. Ayrton--bound, gagged, and closely watched--lived in this cave for four months.

  Nevertheless the convicts had discovered the corral a short time after their arrival in the island, and since then they had subsisted on Ayrton's stores, but did not live at the corral.

  On the 11th of November, two of the villains, surprised by the colonists' arrival, fired at Herbert, and one of them returned, boasting of having killed one of the inhabitants of the island; but he returned alone. His companion, as is known, fell by Cyrus Harding's dagger.

  Ayrton's anxiety and despair may be imagined when he learnt the news of Herbert's death. The settlers were now only four, and, as it seemed, at the mercy of the convicts. After this event, and during all the time that the colonists, detained by Herbert's illness, remained in the corral, the pirates did not leave their cavern, and even after they had pillaged the plateau of Prospect Heights, they did not think it prudent to abandon it.

  The ill-treatment inflicted on Ayrton was now redoubled. His hands and feet still bore the bloody marks of the cords which bound him day and night. Every moment he expected to be put to death, nor did it appear possible that he could escape.

  Matters remained thus until the third week of February. The convicts, still watching for a favourable opportunity, rarely quitted their retreat, and only made a few hunting excursions, either to the interior of the island, or the south coast.

  Ayrton had no further news of his friends, and relinquished all hope of ever seeing them again. At last, the unfortunate man, weakened by ill-treatment, fell into a prostration so profound that sight and hearing failed him. From that moment, that is to say, since the last two days, he could give no information whatever of what had occurred.

  "But, Captain Harding," he added, "since I was imprisoned in that cavern, how is it that I find myself in the corral?"

  "How is it that the convicts are lying yonder dead, in the middle of the enclosure?" answered the engineer.

  "Dead!" cried Ayrton, half rising from his bed, notwithstanding his weakness.

  His companions supported him. He wished to get up, and with their assistance he did so. They then proceeded together towards the little stream.

  It was now broad daylight.

  There, on the bank, in the position in which they had been stricken by death in its most instantaneous form, lay the corpses of the five convicts!

  Ayrton was astounded. Harding and his companions looked at him without uttering a word. On a sign from the engineer, Neb and Pencroft examined the bodies, already stiffened by the cold.

  They bore no apparent trace of any wound.

  Only, after carefully examining them, Pencroft found on the forehead of one, on the chest of another, on the back of this one, on the shoulder of that, a little red spot, a sort of scarcely visible bruise, the cause of which it was impossible to conjecture.

  "It is there that they have been struck!" said Cyrus Harding.

  "But with what weapon?" cried the reporter.

  "A weapon, lightning-like in its effects, and of which we have not the secret!"

  "And who has struck the blow?" asked Pencroft.

  "The avenging power of the island," replied Harding, "he who brought you here, Ayrton, whose influence has once more manifested itself, who does for us all that which we cannot do for ourselves, and who, his will accomplished, conceals himself from us."

  "Let us make search for him, then!" exclaimed Pencroft.

  "Yes, we will search for him," answered Harding; "but we shall not discover this powerful being who performs such wonders, until he pleases to call us to him!"

  This invisible protection, which rendered their own action unavailing, both irritated and piqued the engineer. The relative inferiority which it proved was of a nature to wound a haughty spirit. A generosity evinced in such a manner as to elude all tokens of gratitude, implied a sort of disdain for those on whom the obligation was conferred, which in Cyrus Harding's eyes marred, in some degree, the worth of the benefit.

  "Let us search," he resumed, "and God grant that we may some day be permitted to prove to this haughty protector that he has not to deal with ungrateful people! What would I not give could we repay him, by rendering him in our turn, although at the price of our lives, some signal service!"

  From this day, the thoughts of the inhabitants of Lincoln Island were solely occupied with the intended search. Everything incited them to discover the answer to this enigma, an answer which could only be the name of a man endowed with a truly inexplicable, and in some degree superhuman power. In a few minutes, the settlers re-entered the house, where their influence soon restored to Ayrton his moral and physical energy.

  Neb and Pencroft carried the corpses of the convicts into the forest, some distance from the corral, and buried them deep in the ground.

  Ayrton was then made acquainted with the facts which had occurred during his seclusion. He learnt Herbert's adventures, and through what various trials the colonists had passed. As to the settlers, they had despaired of ever seeing Ayrton again, and had been convinced that the convicts had ruthlessly mur
dered him.

  "And now," said Cyrus Harding, as he ended his recital, "a duty remains for us to perform. Half of our task is accomplished, but although the convicts are no longer to be feared, it is not owing to ourselves that we are once more masters of the island."

  "Well!" answered Gideon Spilett, "let us search all this labyrinth of the spurs of Mount Franklin. We will not leave a hollow, not a hole unexplored! Ah! if ever a reporter found himself face to face with a mystery, it is I who now speak to you, my friends!"

  "And we will not return to Granite House until we have found our benefactor," said Herbert.

  "Yes," said the engineer, "we will do all that it is humanly possible to do, but I repeat we shall not find him until he himself permits us."

  "Shall we stay at the corral?" asked Pencroft.

  "We shall stay here," answered Harding. "Provisions are abundant, and we are here in the very centre of the circle we have to explore. Besides, if necessary, the cart will take us rapidly to Granite House."

  "Good!" answered the sailor. "Only I have a remark to make."

  "What is it?"

  "Here is the fine season getting on, and we must not forget that we have a voyage to make."

  "A voyage?" said Gideon Spilett.

  "Yes, to Tabor Island," answered Pencroft. "It is necessary to carry a notice there to point out the position of our island and say that Ayrton is here in case the Scotch yacht should come to take him off. Who knows if it is not already too late?"

  "But, Pencroft," asked Ayrton, "how do you intend to make this voyage?"

  "In the Bonadventure."

  "The Bonadventure!" exclaimed Ayrton. "She no longer exists."

  "My Bonadventure exists no longer!" shouted Pencroft, bounding from his seat.

  "No," answered Ayrton. "The convicts discovered her in her little harbour only eight days ago, they put to sea in her, and--"

  "And?" said Pencroft, his heart beating.

  "And not having Bob Harvey to steer her, they ran on the rocks, and the vessel went to pieces."