by Jules Verne
The quartette were delighted at this reception, and made no attempt to hide their satisfaction from Calistus Munbar.
“Yes! He is a nice man, Mr. Cyrus Bikerstaff,” replied the superintendent, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “It is a pity that he does not possess a million or two.”
“We cannot be perfect.”‘ replied Pinchinat.
The governor-mayor of Milliard City had two assistants, who helped him in the very simple administration of Floating Island. Under their orders, a small number of employed, at suitable wages, were engaged in the different branches. There was no municipal council. What would be the use of it? In its place was a council of notables— thirty of the men best qualified by their intelligence and their fortune. It met when any important measure was in contemplation—among others the choice of the itinerary which was to be followed in the interests of the general health. As far as our Parisians could see, there was frequently, in this respect, matter for discussion and difficulties to be settled. But thanks to his clever and judicious intervention, Cyrus Bikerstaff had always been able to conciliate opposing interests, and gratify the self-respect of those under his control.
One of his assistants, Barthélemy Ruge, was a Protestant, the other, Hubley Harcourt, was a Catholic, both of them chosen from among the high functionaries of the Floating Island Company, and both seconding Cyrus Bikerstaff with zeal and intelligence.
Thus had existed for eighteen months already, in the plenitude of its independence, free from all diplomatic connections, at liberty on this vast sea of the Pacific, sheltered from all unpleasant weather, beneath the skies of its choice, the island on which the quartette were to reside for a whole year. That they would be exposed to any adventures, that the future had in reserve for them anything unforeseen, it was not possible to imagine or to fear, for, as the ‘cellist observed, everything on board was done with order and regularity. And yet, in creating this artificial domain, launched on the surface of the ocean, had not human genius exceeded the limits assigned to man by the Creator?
The voyage continued towards the West. Every day when the sun passed the meridian the position was fixed by the officers of the observatory under the orders of Commodore Ethel Simcoe. Four dials on the lateral faces of the belfry of the town hall gave the exact position of the island in longitude and latitude, and these indications were reproduced telegraphically at the street corners, in the hotels, in the public buildings, in the private houses, in the same way as the time which changed every day as the island moved from west to east. The inhabitants of Milliard City were thus enabled to know at any moment what place on its itinerary Floating Island occupied.
With the exception of this insensible movement on the surface of the ocean, Milliard City differed in no respect from the capitals of the old and new Continents. The existence was the same. The same routine of public and private life. As they were not very busy, our instrumentalists employed their first leisure in visiting all that was curious in the Pearl of the Pacific. The trams took them towards all points of the island. The two factories of electrical energy evoked their sincere admiration by the simplicity of their machinery, the power of their engines driving a double series of screws, and the admirable discipline of their staff, the one directed by Engineer Watson, the other by Engineer Somwah. At regular intervals Larboard Harbour and Starboard Harbour received in their basins the steamers running to and from Floating Island, according as their position offered the easier access.
If the obstinate Sebastien Zorn refused to admire these marvels, if Frascolin was more reserved in his sentiments, in what a constant state of rapture was the enthusiastic Yvernès! In his opinion the twentieth century would not end before the seas were ploughed by floating towns. This would be the last word of progress and comfort in the future. What a superb spectacle was this moving island going to visit its sisters of Oceania. As to Pinchinat, amid these opulent surroundings, he was almost intoxicated at hearing the people talk of nothing but millions, as they talk elsewhere of pounds. The banknotes were of the usual values. It was the custom to carry two or three thousand dollars in the pocket. And more than once his highness had said to Frascolin, —
“Old boy, you don’t happen to have fifty thousand francs about you, do you?”
Meanwhile the quartette party made many acquaintances, being assured of an excellent welcome everywhere. Besides, on the recommendation of the deafening Munbar, who would not be eager to treat them well?
In the first place they went to visit their compatriot, Athanase Dorémus, professor of dancing and deportment.
This good fellow occupied in the Starboard Section a modest house in Twenty-Fifth Avenue, at three thousand dollars a year rent. His servant was an old negress, at a hundred dollars a month. He was enchanted to make the acquaintance of Frenchmen—Frenchmen who did honour to France.
He was an old man of seventy; thin, emaciated, short, with a bright look, and all his teeth still perfect, as was his abundant frizzly hair, which was white as his beard. He walked sedately, with a certain rhythmic cadence, his chest in advance, his stomach curved in, his arms rounded, his feet a little turned out, and with irreproachable boots. Our artistes took great pleasure in making him talk, and he was quite willing, for his graciousness was equal to his loquacity.
“I am delighted, my dear compatriots, I am delighted,” he repeated twenty times at their first visit. “I am delighted to see you! What an excellent idea it was of yours to come and settle in this town. You will not regret it, for now I have lived here, I do not know how it would be possible to live in any other way.”
“And how long have you been here, Monsieur Dorémus?” asked Yvernès.
“For eighteen months,” replied the professor, bringing his feet to the second position. “I am one of the first comers on Floating Island. Thanks to the excellent references I obtained at New Orleans, where I had established myself, my services were accepted by Mr. Cyrus Bikerstaff, our adored governor. From that blessed day the salary assigned me for managing a conservatoire of dancing and deportment has permitted me to live—”
“Like a millionaire!” exclaimed Pinchinat.
“Oh! Millionaires here—”
“I know—I know—my dear compatriot. But from what we have heard from the superintendent, the courses of your conservatoire are not largely attended.”
“The only pupils I have are all young men, the young ladies thinking they are provided at birth with all the necessary graces. And the young men prefer to take their lessons in private, and it is in private that I teach them good French manners!” And he smiled as he spoke, simpering like an old coquette, and disposing himself in graceful attitudes.
Athanase Dorémus, a Picard of Santerre, had left France in his early youth, and settled in the United States at New Orleans. There among the French population of our regretted Louisiana, opportunities did not fail him for exercising the talents. Admitted into the principal families, he achieved success, and had begun to save money, when one of the most American of enterprises lifted him into smooth water. This was at the time that the Floating Island Company launched its project, scattering its prospectuses far and wide, advertising itself lavishly in the newspapers, appealing to all the ultra-rich who had made their incalculable fortunes out of railways, petroleum wells, and the pork trade, salt or otherwise. Athanase Dorémus conceived the idea of asking for employment of the governor of the new city in which professors of his kind were not likely to be found. Favourably known in the Coverley family, who were natives of New Orleans, he was recommended by its chief, who was about to become one of the most prominent notables of the Starboardites of Milliard City, and thereupon accepted. That is how a Frenchman, and even a Picard, became one of the functionaries of Floating Island.
It is true that his lessons were only given at his house, and the dancing-room at the casino saw nobody but the professor reflected in its mirrors. But what did that matter so long as the lack of pupils made no decrease in his salary?
&n
bsp; In short, he was a good fellow, slightly ridiculous and crazy, perhaps, and infatuated with himself, persuaded that he possessed, with the heritage of the Vestrises and Saint Leons, the traditions of Brummel and Lord Seymour. In the eyes of the quartette he was a compatriot—a quality always appreciated when thousands of leagues from France.
He had to be told the later adventures of the four Parisians, under what circumstances they had arrived in the island, how Calistus Munbar had enticed them on board, and how the island had weighed anchor a few hours after they had embarked.
“I am not at all surprised at that, in our superintendent,” replied the old professor. “That is quite in his style. He has done it, and will do it again with others. He is a true son of Barnum, and will end by getting the company into trouble. He is a free-and-easy gentleman who would be all the better for a few lessons in deportment, I assure you; one of those Yankees who see-saw in a chair with their legs on the window-sill. Not bad at the bottom, but thinking they can do what they like. But do not bear him any ill-will. Except for the unpleasantness of having broken your engagement at San Diego, you will have only to congratulate yourselves on your sojourn at Milliard City. People will have a high opinion of you, as you will find.”
“Particularly at the end of each quarter!” replied Frascolin, whose functions as treasurer of the party began to be of exceptional importance.
To the question he was asked on the subject of the rivalry between the two sections of the island, Athanase Dorémus confirmed what Calistus Munbar had said. In his opinion there was a cloud on the horizon, and even the menace of an approaching storm. Between the Starboardites and Larboardites a conflict of interests and self-esteem was to be feared. The families of Tankerdon and Coverley, the richest in the place, were betraying increasing jealousy towards each other, and this would probably produce an explosion, if some means of conciliation could not be found. Yes. An explosion!
“Providing it does not explode in the island, we have nothing to be anxious about them,” observed Pinchinat.
“At least, so long as we are on board!” added the ‘cellist.
“Oh! It is firm enough, my dear compatriots,” replied Athanase Dorémus. “For the eighteen months it has been afloat, no accident of any importance has happened to it. Nothing but a few insignificant repairs, which did not even require it to return to Madeleine Bay. Just think, it is made of plates of steel!”
That answered everything, and if plates of steel did not give an absolute guarantee in this world, to what metal could you trust?
Pinchinat was then led to ask what the professor thought of Governor Cyrus Bikerstaff.
“Is he of steel also?”
“Yes, Monsieur Pinchinat,” replied Athanase Dorémus, “he is gifted with great energy, and is a most able administrator. Unfortunately, in Milliard City it is not enough to be made of steel.”
“You must be made of gold,” retorted Yvernès.
“Just so; or if you are not, you are of no account!”
That was the case exactly. Cyrus Bikerstaff, notwith standing his high position, was only a servant of the company. He presided at the proceedings of the municipality, he had to receive the customs, to watch over the public health, to keep the roads clean, to superintend the plantations, to receive the revenue—in a word, to make enemies on all sides. In Floating Island it was necessary to be wealthy; Cyrus Bikerstaff was not wealthy.
In addition to this, his duties obliged him to maintain a conciliatory attitude between both parties, to risk nothing that might be agreeable to one that was not agreeable to the other. A policy that was not easy.
Already ideas were evidently getting about that might bring the two sections into conflict. If the Starboardites had settled on Floating Island solely with a view to peaceably enjoy their riches, the Larboardites began to hanker after business. They were asking why Floating Island should not be used as an immense merchant vessel and carry cargo to every part of Oceania, why all industries were forbidden in the island? In short, although they had been here less than two years, these Yankees, with Tankerdon at the head, were beginning to long to do a trade again. Although they had not stated this in so many words, Cyrus Bikerstaff could not help being anxious about it. He hoped, however, that the future would not grow worse, and that intestine dissension would not trouble an island made expressly for the tranquillity of its inhabitants.
In taking leave of Athanase Dorémus, the quartette promised to visit him again. As a rule, the professor went in the afternoon to the casino to which nobody came. There, not wishing to be accused of unpunctuality, he waited preparing his lessons before the looking-glasses in the room.
The island gradually moved to the westward, and a little towards the north-west, so as to touch at the Sandwich Islands. In the latitudes bordering on the torrid zone the temperature is already high, and the inhabitants of Milliard City would have found it almost unbearable had it not been for the cooling sea breeze. Fortunately, the nights are fresh, and even in the dog-days the trees and lawns watered with artificial rain retained their attractive verdure. Every day, at noon, the position shown on the dials of the town hall was telegraphed to the different quarters. On the 17th of June, Floating Island was in 1550 longitude west and 27° latitude north, and approaching the tropics.
“You might say it was the sun which towed us” remarked Yvernès, “or if you like it more elegantly, that we have for our team the horses of the divine Apollo!”
The observation was as appropriate as it was poetical, but Sebastien Zorn received it with a shrug of his shoulders. It did not suit him to be towed—against his will.
“Well,” he would never cease repeating, “we shall see how this adventure will end.”
The quartette generally went into the park every day at the fashionable hour. On horse, on foot, in their carriages, all the notables of Milliard City were to be met with around the lawns. The ladies of fashion here showed their third daily toilette, of one colour throughout, from the hat to the boots, and usually of Indian silk, which was very fashionable this year. Often, too, they wore artificial silk made of cellulose, in which there is such a play of colour; or even imitation cotton, made of pine or larch-wood defibrized and disintegrated.
This provoked Pinchinat to remark, “You will see that one day they will make fabrics of ivy-wood for faithful friends, and weeping willow for inconsolable widows.”
In any case, the wealthy Milliardites would not have worn these fabrics if they had not come from Paris, nor these dresses if they had not borne the name of the king of dressmakers—of him who haughtily proclaimed the axiom: “Woman is only a question of dress.”
Sometimes the King and Queen of Malecarlie would pass among these smart gentry. The royal couple, deprived of their sovereignty, inspired our artistes with real sympathy. What reflections occurred to them at seeing these august personages arm-in-arm. They were relatively poor amid this wealthy crowd, but they were evidently proud and honourable, like philosophers withdrawn from the cares of this world. It is true that the Americans of Floating Island were at heart much flattered at having a king for one of their citizens, and treated him with the respect due to his former position. The quartette respectfully saluted their Majesties when they met them in the avenues of the town or the footpath of the park. The King and Queen showed that they much appreciated these marks of deference that were so French. But their Majesties were of no more account than Cyrus Bikerstaff —perhaps less.
In truth, travellers who were frightened at a sea-voyage might well adopt this kind of navigation on a moving island. Under such circumstances, there could not be any anxiety as to the accidents of the sea. There was nothing to fear from storms. With ten million horse-power on its flanks, a Floating Island could never be detained by calms, and would be powerful enough to make headway against contrary winds. If there were any danger from collisions, the danger was not to the island. So much the worse for the vessels that hurled themselves at full speed or under full sail agains
t its sides of steel. But there was not much fear of such encounters, owing to the electric light of its aluminium moons with which the atmosphere was filled during the night. As to storms, they were not worth talking about. The island was large enough to put a bridle on the fury of the waves.
And when their walks brought Pinchinat and Frascolin to the bow or stern of the island, either to the Prow or Stern Battery, they were both of opinion that there was a want of capes, promontories, points, creeks, and beaches. The shore was but a breastwork of steel kept in place by millions of bolts and rivets. And how a painter would have regretted the absence of those old rocks, rough as an elephant’s skin, which the surf caresses with seaweeds as the tide comes in. Decidedly, you do not replace the beauties of nature by the marvels of industry. In spite of his permanent admiration, Yvernès was forced to admit that the imprint of the Creator was wanting on this artificial island.
During the evening of the 25th of June Floating Island crossed the tropic of Cancer and entered the Torrid Zone of the Pacific. At this hour, the quartette were giving their second performance in the casino. Kindly note that owing to the success of their first appearance, the price of stalls was now increased by a third.
No matter! The room was still too small. The dilettanti struggled for places. Evidently this chamber music should be excellent for health, and no one could entertain a doubt as to its therapeutic qualities. Again examples of Mozart, Beethoven, Haydn, as before. Immense success for the performers to whom Parisian bravos would certainly have given greater pleasure. But in their absence, Yvernès, Frascolin, and Pinchinat knew how to be contented with Milliardite hurrahs, for which Sebastien Zorn continued to profess the most complete disdain.
“What more can we wish for?” said Yvernès, when they crossed the tropic of Cancer.
