NO NEWS OF NEB--A PROPOSAL FROM PENCROFT AND THE REPORTER, WHICH IS NOT
ACCEPTED--SEVERAL SORTIES BY GIDEON SPILETT--A RAG OF CLOTH--A MESSAGE--
HASTY DEPARTURE--ARRIVAL ON THE PLATEAU OF PROSPECT HEIGHTS.
The convalescence of the young invalid was regularly progressing. One
thing only was now to be desired, that his state would allow him to be
brought to Granite House. However well built and supplied the corral
house was, it could not be so comfortable as the healthy granite
dwelling. Besides, it did not offer the same security, and its tenants,
notwithstanding their watchfulness, were here always in fear of some
shot from the convicts. There, on the contrary, in the middle of that
impregnable and inaccessible cliff, they would have nothing to fear, and
any attack on their persons would certainly fail. They therefore waited
impatiently for the moment when Herbert might be moved without danger
from his wound, and they were determined to make this move, although the
communication through Jacamar Wood was very difficult.
They had no news from Neb, but were not uneasy on that account. The
courageous negro, well intrenched in the depths of Granite House, would
not allow himself to be surprised. Top had not been sent again to him,
as it appeared useless to expose the faithful dog to some shot which
might deprive the settlers of their most useful auxiliary.
They waited, therefore, although they were anxious to be reunited at
Granite House. It pained the engineer to see his forces divided, for it
gave great advantage to the pirates. Since Ayrton's disappearance they
were only four against five, for Herbert could not yet be counted, and
this was not the least care of the brave boy, who well understood the
trouble of which he was the cause.
The question of knowing how, in their condition, they were to act
against the pirates, was thoroughly discussed on the 29th of November by
Cyrus Harding, Gideon Spilett, and Pencroft, at a moment when Herbert
was asleep and could not hear them.
"My friends," said the reporter, after they had talked of Neb and of the
impossibility of communicating with him, "I think, like you, that to
venture on the road to the corral would be to risk receiving a gun-shot
without being able to return it. But do you not think that the best
thing to be done now is to openly give chase to these wretches?"
"That is just what I was thinking," answered Pencroft. "I believe we're
not fellows to be afraid of a bullet, and as for me, if Captain Harding
approves, I'm ready to dash into the forest! Why, hang it, one man is
equal to another!"
"But is he equal to five?" asked the engineer.
"I will join Pencroft," said the reporter, "and both of us, well-armed
and accompanied by Top--"
"My dear Spilett, and you, Pencroft," answered Harding, "let us reason
coolly. If the convicts were hid in one spot of the island, if we knew
that spot, and had only to dislodge them, I would undertake a direct
attack; but is there not occasion to fear, on the contrary, that they
are sure to fire the first shot."
"Well, captain," cried Pencroft, "a bullet does not always reach its
mark."
"That which struck Herbert did not miss, Pencroft," replied the
engineer. "Besides, observe that if both of you left the corral I
should remain here alone to defend it. Do you imagine that the convicts
will not see you leave it, that they will not allow you to enter the
forest, and that they will not attack it during your absence, knowing
that there is no one here but a wounded boy and a man?"
"You are right, captain," replied Pencroft, his chest swelling with
sullen anger. "You are right; they will do all they can to retake the
corral, which they know to be well stored; and alone you could not hold
it against them."
"Oh, if we were only at Granite House!"
"If we were at Granite House," answered the engineer, "the case would be
very different. There I should not be afraid to leave Herbert with one,
whilst the other three went to search the forests of the island. But we
are at the corral, and it is best to stay here until we can leave it
together."
Cyrus Harding's reasoning was unanswerable, and his companions
understood it well.
"If only Ayrton was still one of us!" said Gideon Spilett. "Poor
fellow! his return to social life will have been but of short duration."
"If he is dead," added Pencroft, in a peculiar tone.
"Do you hope, then, Pencroft, that the villains have spared him?" asked
Gideon Spilett.
"Yes, if they had any interest in doing so."
"What! you suppose that Ayrton, finding his old companions, forgetting
all that he owes us--"
"Who knows?" answered the sailor, who did not hazard this shameful
supposition without hesitating.
"Pencroft," said Harding, taking the sailor's arm, "that is a wicked
idea of yours, and you will distress me much if you persist in speaking
thus. I will answer for Ayrton's fidelity."
"And I also," added the reporter quickly.
"Yes, yes, captain, I was wrong," replied Pencroft; "it was a wicked
idea indeed that I had, and nothing justifies it. But what can I do?
I'm not in my senses. This imprisonment in the corral wearies me
horribly, and I have never felt so excited as I do now."
"Be patient, Pencroft," replied the engineer. "How long will it be, my
dear Spilett, before you think Herbert may be carried to Granite House?"
"That is difficult to say, Cyrus," answered the reporter, "for any
imprudence might involve terrible consequences. But his convalescence
is progressing, and if he continues to gain strength, in eight days from
now--well, we shall see."
Eight days! That would put off the return to Granite House until the
first days of December. At this time two months of spring had already
passed. The weather was fine, and the heat began to be great. The
forests of the island were in full leaf, and the time was approaching
when the usual crops ought to be gathered. The return to the plateau of
Prospect Heights would, therefore, be followed by extensive agricultural
labours, interrupted only by the projected expedition through the
island.
It can, therefore, be well understood how injurious this seclusion in
the corral must be to the colonists.
But if they were compelled to bow before necessity, they did not do so
without impatience.
Once or twice the reporter ventured out into the road and made the tour
of the palisade. Top accompanied him, and Gideon Spilett, his gun
cocked, was ready for any emergency.
He met with no misadventure and found no suspicious traces. His dog
would have warned him of any danger, and, as Top did not bark, it might
be concluded that there was nothing to fear at that moment at least, and
that the convicts were occupied in another part of the island.
However, on his second sortie, on the 27th of November, Gideon Spilett,
who had ventured a quarter of a mile into the wood, towards the south of
the mountains, remarked that Top scented something. The dog had no
longer his unconcerned manner; he went backwards and forwards, ferreting
amongst the grass and bushes as if his smell had revealed some
suspicious object to him.
Gideon Spilett followed Top, encouraged him, excited him by his voice,
whilst keeping a sharp look-out, his gun ready to fire, and sheltering
himself behind the trees. It was not probable that Top scented the
presence of man, for in that case, he would have announced it by
half-uttered, sullen, angry barks. Now, as he did not growl, it was
because danger was neither near nor approaching.
Nearly five minutes passed thus, Top rummaging, the reporter following
him prudently, when, all at once, the dog rushed towards a thick bush,
and drew out a rag.
It was a piece of cloth, stained and torn, which Spilett immediately
brought back to the corral. There it was examined by the colonists, who
found that it was a fragment of Ayrton's waistcoat, a piece of that
felt, manufactured solely by the Granite House factory.
"You see, Pencroft," observed Harding, "there has been resistance on the
part of the unfortunate Ayrton. The convicts have dragged him away in
spite of himself! Do you still doubt his honesty?"
"No, captain," answered the sailor, "and I repented of my suspicion a
long time ago! But it seems to me that something may be learned from
the incident."
"What is that?" asked the reporter.
"It is that Ayrton was not killed at the corral! That they dragged him
away living, since he has resisted. Therefore, perhaps, he is still
living!"
"Perhaps, indeed," replied the engineer, who remained thoughtful.
This was a hope, to which Ayrton's companions could still hold. Indeed,
they had before believed that, surprised in the corral, Ayrton had
fallen by a bullet, as Herbert had fallen. But if the convicts had not
killed him at first, if they had brought him living to another part of
the island, might it not be admitted that he was still their prisoner?
Perhaps, even, one of them had found in Ayrton his old Australian
companion Ben Joyce, the chief of the escaped convicts. And who knows
but that they had conceived the impossible hope of bringing back Ayrton
to themselves? He would have been very useful to them, if they had been
able to make him turn traitor!
This incident was, therefore, favourably interpreted at the corral, and
it no longer appeared impossible that they should find Ayrton again. On
his side, if he was only a prisoner, Ayrton would no doubt do all he
could to escape from the hands of the villains, and this would be a
powerful aid to the settlers!
"At any rate," observed Gideon Spilett, "if happily Ayrton did manage to
escape, he would go directly to Granite House, for he could not know of
the attempt of assassination of which Herbert has been a victim, and
consequently would never think of our being imprisoned in the corral!"
"Oh! I wish that he was there, at Granite House!" cried Pencroft, "and
that we were there, too! For, although the rascals can do nothing to
our house, they may plunder the plateau, our plantations, our
poultry-yard!"
Pencroft had become a thorough farmer, heartily attached to his crops.
But it must be said that Herbert was more anxious than any to return to
Granite House, for he knew how much the presence of the settlers was
needed there. And it was he who was keeping them at the corral!
Therefore, one idea occupied his mind--to leave the corral, and when!
He believed he could bear removal to Granite House. He was sure his
strength would return more quickly in his room, with the air and sight
of the sea!
Several times he pressed Gideon Spilett, but the latter, fearing, with
good reason, that Herbert's wounds, half healed, might reopen on the
way, did not give the order to start.
However, something occurred which compelled Cyrus Harding and his two
friends to yield to the lad's wish, and God alone knew that this
determination might cause them grief and remorse.
It was the 29th of November, seven o'clock in the evening. The three
settlers were talking in Herbert's room, when they heard Top utter quick
barks.
Harding, Pencroft, and Spilett seized their guns and ran out of the
house. Top, at the foot of the palisade, was jumping, barking, but it
was with pleasure, not anger.
"Some one is coming."
"Yes."
"It is not an enemy!"
"Neb, perhaps?"
"Or Ayrton?"
These words had hardly been exchanged between the engineer and his two
companions when a body leapt over the palisade and fell on the ground
inside the corral.
It was Tup, Master Jup in person, to whom Top immediately gave a most
cordial reception.
"Jup!" exclaimed Pencroft.
"Neb has sent him to us," said the reporter.
"Then," replied the engineer, "he must have some note on him."
Pencroft rushed up to the orang. Certainly if Neb had any important
matter to communicate to his master he could not employ a more sure or
more rapid messenger, who could pass where neither the colonists could,
nor even Top himself.
Cyrus Harding was not mistaken. At Jup's neck hung a small bag, and in
this bag was found a little note traced by Neb's hand.
The despair of Harding and his companions may be imagined when they read
these words:--
"Friday, six o'clock in the morning.
"Plateau invaded by convicts.
"Neb."
They gazed at each other without uttering a word, then they re-entered
the house. What were they to do? The convicts on Prospect Heights!
that was disaster, devastation, ruin.
Herbert, on seeing the engineer, the reporter, and Pencroft re-enter,
guessed that their situation was aggravated, and when he saw Jup, he no
longer doubted that some misfortune menaced Granite House.
"Captain Harding," said he, "I must go; I can bear the journey. I must
go."