"Alas!"
"No! no!" exclaimed Harding with animation, "no, Ayrton, Pencroft does
not mistrust you. You interpret his words wrongly."
"Indeed," returned the sailor, "I only propose to accompany Ayrton as
far as the islet. It may be, although it is scarcely possible, that one
of these villains has landed, and in that case two men will not be too
many to hinder him from giving the alarm. I will wait for Ayrton on the
islet, and he shall go alone to the vessel, since he has proposed to do
so." These things agreed to, Ayrton made preparations for his
departure. His plan was bold, but it might succeed, thanks to the
darkness of the night. Once arrived at the vessel's side, Ayrton,
holding onto the main-chains, might reconnoitre the number and perhaps
overhear the intentions of the pirates.
Ayrton and Pencroft, followed by their companions, descended to the
beach. Ayrton undressed and rubbed himself with grease, so as to suffer
less from the temperature of the water, which was still cold. He might,
indeed, be obliged to remain in it for several hours.
Pencroft and Neb, during this time, had gone to fetch the boat, moored a
few hundred feet higher up, on the bank of the Mercy, and by the time
they returned, Ayrton was ready to start. A coat was thrown over his
shoulders, and the settlers all came round him to press his hand.
Ayrton then shoved off with Pencroft in the boat.
It was half-past ten in the evening when the two adventurers disappeared
in the darkness. Their companions returned to wait at the Chimneys.
The channel was easily traversed, and the boat touched the opposite
shore of the islet. This was not done without precaution, for fear lest
the pirates might be roaming about there. But after a careful survey,
it was evident that the islet was deserted. Ayrton then, followed by
Pencroft, crossed it with a rapid step, scaring the birds nestled in the
holes of the rocks; then, without hesitating, he plunged into the sea,
and swam noiselessly in the direction of the ship, in which a few lights
had recently appeared, showing her exact situation. As to Pencroft, he
crouched down in a cleft of the rock, and awaited the return of his
companion.
In the meanwhile, Ayrton, swimming with a vigorous stroke, glided
through the sheet of water without producing the slightest ripple. His
head just emerged above it and his eyes were fixed on the dark hull of
the brig, from which the lights were reflected in the water. He thought
only of the duty which he had promised to accomplish, and nothing of the
danger which he ran, not only on board the ship, but in the sea, often
frequented by sharks. The current bore him along and he rapidly receded
from the shore.
Half an hour afterwards, Ayrton, without having been either seen or
heard, arrived at the ship and caught hold of the main-chains. He took
breath, then, hoisting himself up, he managed to reach the extremity of
the cutwater. There were drying several pairs of sailors' trousers. He
put on a pair. Then settling himself firmly, he listened. They were
not sleeping on board the brig. On the contrary, they were talking,
singing, laughing. And these were the sentences, accompanied with
oaths, which principally struck Ayrton:--
"Our brig is a famous acquisition."
"She sails well, and merits her name of the _Speedy_."
"She would show all the navy of Norfolk a clean pair of heels."
"Hurrah for her captain!"
"Hurrah for Bob Harvey!"
What Ayrton felt when he overheard this fragment of conversation may be
understood when it is known that in this Bob Harvey he recognised one of
his old Australian companions, a daring sailor, who had continued his
criminal career. Bob Harvey had seized, on the shores of Norfolk
Island, this brig, which was loaded with arms, ammunition, utensils, and
tools of all sorts, destined for one of the Sandwich Islands. All his
gang had gone on board, and pirates after having been convicts, these
wretches, more ferocious than the Malays themselves, scoured the
Pacific, destroying vessels, and massacring their crews.
The convicts spoke loudly, they recounted their deeds, drinking deeply
at the same time, and this is what Ayrton gathered. The actual crew of
the _Speedy_ was composed solely of English prisoners, escaped from
Norfolk Island.
Here it may be well to explain what this island was. In 29 degrees 2
minutes south latitude, and 165 degrees 42 minutes east longitude, to
the east of Australia, is found a little island, six miles in
circumference, overlooked by Mount Pitt, which rises to a height of 1100
feet above the level of the sea. This is Norfolk Island, once the seat
of an establishment in which were lodged the most intractable convicts
from the English penitentiaries. They numbered 500, under an iron
discipline, threatened with terrible punishments, and were guarded by
150 soldiers, and 150 employed under the orders of the governor. It
would be difficult to imagine a collection of greater ruffians.
Sometimes,--although very rarely,--notwithstanding the extreme
surveillance of which they were the object, many managed to escape, and
seizing vessels which they surprised, they infested the Polynesian
Archipelagos. [Note. Norfolk Island has long since been abandoned as a
penal settlement.]
Thus had Bob Harvey and his companions done. Thus had Ayrton formerly
wished to do. Bob Harvey had seized the brig _Speedy_, anchored in
sight of Norfolk Island; the crew had been massacred; and for a year
this ship had scoured the Pacific, under the command of Harvey, now a
pirate, and well-known to Ayrton!
The convicts were, for the most part, assembled under the poop; but a
few, stretched on the deck, were talking loudly.
The conversation still continued amidst shouts and libations. Ayrton
learned that chance alone had brought the _Speedy_ in sight of Lincoln
Island: Bob Harvey had never yet set foot on it; but, as Cyrus Harding
had conjectured, finding this unknown land in his course, its position
being marked on no chart, he had formed the project of visiting it, and,
if he found it suitable, of making it the brig's headquarters.
As to the black flag hoisted at the _Speedy's_ peak, and the gun which
had been fired, in imitation of men-of-war when they lower their
colours, it was pure piratical bravado. It was in no way a signal, and
no communication yet existed between the convicts and Lincoln Island.
The settlers' domain was now menaced with terrible danger. Evidently
the island, with its water, its harbour, its resources of all kinds so
increased in value by the colonists, and the concealment afforded by
Granite House, could not but be convenient for the convicts; in their
hands it would become an excellent place of refuge, and, being unknown,
it would assure them, for a long time perhaps, impunity and security.
Evidently, also, the lives of the settlers would not be respected, and
Bob Harvey and his accomplices' first care would be to massacre them
without mercy. Harding and his companions had, therefore, not even the
choice of flying and hiding themselves in the island, since the convicts
intended to reside there, and since, in the event of the _Speedy_
departing on an expedition, it was probable that some of the crew would
remain on shore, so as to settle themselves there. Therefore, it would
be necessary to fight, to destroy every one of these scoundrels,
unworthy of pity, and against whom any means would be right. So thought
Ayrton, and he well knew that Cyrus Harding would be of his way of
thinking.
But was resistance and, in the last place, victory possible? That would
depend on the equipment of the brig, and the number of men which she
carried.
This Ayrton resolved to learn at any cost, and as an hour after his
arrival the vociferations had begun to die away, and as a large number
of the convicts were already buried in a drunken sleep, Ayrton did not
hesitate to venture onto the _Speedy's_ deck, which the extinguished
lanterns now left in total darkness. He hoisted himself onto the
cutwater, and by the bowsprit arrived at the forecastle. Then, gliding
among the convicts stretched here and there, he made the round of the
ship, and found that the _Speedy_ carried four guns, which would throw
shot of from eight to ten pounds in weight. He found also, on touching
them, that these guns were breech-loaders. They were, therefore, of
modern make, easily used, and of terrible effect.
As to the men lying on the deck, they were about ten in number, but it
was to be supposed that more were sleeping down below. Besides, by
listening to them, Ayrton had understood that there were fifty on board.
That was a large number for the six settlers of Lincoln Island to
contend with! But now, thanks to Ayrton's devotion, Cyrus Harding would
not be surprised, he would know the strength of his adversaries, and
would make his arrangements accordingly.
There was nothing more for Ayrton to do but to return, and render to his
companions an account of the mission with which he had charged himself,
and he prepared to regain the bows of the brig, so that he might let
himself down into the water.
But to this man, whose wish was, as he had said, to do more than his
duty, there came an heroic thought. This was to sacrifice his own life,
but save the island and the colonists. Cyrus Harding evidently could
not resist fifty ruffians, all well-armed, who, either by penetrating by
main force into Granite House, or by starving out the besieged, could
obtain from them what they wanted. And then he thought of his
preservers--those who had made him again a man, and an honest man, those
to whom he owed all--murdered without pity, their works destroyed, their
island turned into a pirates' den! He said to himself that he, Ayrton,
was the principal cause of so many disasters, since his old companion,
Bob Harvey, had but realised his own plans, and a feeling of horror took
possession of him. Then he was seized with an irresistible desire to
blow up the brig, and with her, all whom she had on board. He would
perish in the explosion, but he would have done his duty.
Ayrton did not hesitate. To reach the powder-room, which is always
situated in the after-part of a vessel, was easy. There would be no
want of powder in a vessel which followed such a trade, and a spark
would be enough to destroy it in an instant.
Ayrton stole carefully along the between-decks, strewn with numerous
sleepers, overcome more by drunkenness than sleep. A lantern was
lighted at the foot of the mainmast, round which was hung a gun-rack,
furnished with weapons of all sorts.
Ayrton took a revolver from the rack, and assured himself that it was
loaded and primed. Nothing more was needed to accomplish the work of
destruction. He then glided towards the stern, so as to arrive under
the brig's poop at the powder-magazine.
It was difficult to proceed along the dimly-lighted deck without
stumbling over some half-sleeping convict, who retorted by oaths and
kicks. Ayrton was, therefore, more than once obliged to halt. But at
last he arrived at the partition dividing the after-cabin, and found the
door opening into the magazine itself.
Ayrton, compelled to force it open, set to work. It was a difficult
operation to perform without noise, for he had to break a padlock. But
under his vigorous hand, the padlock broke, and the door was open.
At that moment a hand was laid on Ayrton's shoulder.
"What are you doing here?" asked a tall man, in a harsh voice, who,
standing in the shadow, quickly threw the light of a lantern on Ayrton's
face.
Ayrton drew back. In the rapid flash of the lantern, he had recognised
his former accomplice, Bob Harvey, who could not have known him, as he
must have thought Ayrton long since dead.
"What are you doing here?" again said Bob Harvey, seizing Ayrton by the
waistband.
But Ayrton, without replying, wrenched himself from his grasp and
attempted to rush into the magazine. A shot fired into the midst of the
powder-casks, and all would be over!
"Help, lads!" shouted Bob Harvey.
At his shout two or three pirates awoke, jumped up, and, rushing on
Ayrton, endeavoured to throw him down. He soon extricated himself from
their grasp. He fired his revolver, and two of the convicts fell; but a
blow from a knife which he could not ward off made a gash in his
shoulder.
Ayrton perceived that he could no longer hope to carry out his project.
Bob Harvey had reclosed the door of the powder-magazine, and a movement
on the deck indicated a general awakening of the pirates. Ayrton must
reserve himself to fight at the side of Cyrus Harding. There was
nothing for him but flight!
But was flight still possible? It was doubtful, yet Ayrton resolved to
dare everything in order to rejoin his companions.
Four barrels of the revolver were still undischarged. Two were fired--
one, aimed at Bob Harvey, did not wound him, or at any rate only
slightly; and Ayrton, profiting by the momentary retreat of his
adversaries, rushed towards the companion-ladder to gain the deck.
Passing before the lantern, he smashed it with a blow from the butt of
his revolver. A profound darkness ensued, which favoured his flight.
Two or three pirates, awakened by the noise, were descending the ladder
at the same moment. A fifth shot from Ayrton laid one low, and the
others drew back, not understanding what was going on. Ayrton was on
deck in two bounds, and three seconds later, having discharged his last
barrel in the face of a pirate who was about to seize him by the throat,
he leapt over the bulwarks into the sea.
Ayrton had not made six strokes before shots were splashing around him
like hail.
What were Pencroft's feelings, sheltered under a rock on the islet! what
were those of Harding, the reporter, Herbert, and Neb, crouched in the
Chimneys, when they heard the reports on board the brig! They rushed
out onto the beach, and, their guns shouldered, they stood ready to
repel any attack.
They had no doubt about it themselves! Ayrton, surprised by the
pirates, had been murdered, and, perhaps, the wretches would profit by
the night to make a descent on the island!
Half an hour was passed in terrible anxiety. The firing had ceased, and
yet neither Ayrton nor Pencroft had reappeared. Was the islet invaded?
Ought they not to fly to the help of Ayrton and Pencroft? But how? The
tide being high at that time, rendered the channel impassable. The boat
was not there! We may imagine the horrible anxiety which took
possession of Harding and his companions!
At last, towards half-past twelve, a boat, carrying two men, touched the
beach. It was Ayrton, slightly wounded in the shoulder, and Pencroft,
safe and sound, whom their friends received with open arms.
All immediately took refuge in the Chimneys. There Ayrton recounted all
that had passed, even to his plan for blowing up the brig, which he had
attempted to put into execution.
All hands were extended to Ayrton, who did not conceal from them that
their situation was serious. The pirates had been alarmed. They knew
that Lincoln Island was inhabited. They would land upon it in numbers
and well-armed. They would respect nothing. Should the settlers fall
into their hands, they must expect no mercy!
"Well, we shall know how to die!" said the reporter.
"Let us go in and watch," answered the engineer.
"Have we any chance of escape, captain?" asked the sailor.
"Yes, Pencroft."
"Hum! six against fifty!"
"Yes! six! without counting--"
"Who?" asked Pencroft.
Cyrus did not reply, but pointed upwards.