CHAPTER VIII.

WHICH LEADS GODFREY TO BITTER REFLECTIONS ON THE MANIA FOR TRAVELLING.

Three long hours had still to pass before the sun reappeared above the

horizon. These were such hours that they might rather be called

centuries.

The trial was a rough one to begin with, but, we repeat, Godfrey had not

come out for a simple promenade. He himself put it very well when he

said he had left behind him quite a lifetime of happiness and repose,

which he would never find again in his search for adventures. He tried

his utmost therefore to rise to the situation.

He was, temporarily, under shelter. The sea after all could not drive

him off the rock which lay anchored alone amid the spray of the surf.

Was there any fear of the incoming tide soon reaching him? No, for on

reflection he concluded that the wreck had taken place at the highest

tide of the new moon.

But was the rock isolated? Did it command a line of breakers scattered

on this portion of the sea? What was this coast which Captain Turcott

had thought he saw in the darkness? To which continent did it belong? It

was only too certain that the _Dream_ had been driven out of her route

during the storm of the preceding days. The position of the ship could

not have been exactly fixed. How could there be a doubt of this when the

captain had two hours before affirmed that his charts bore no indication

of breakers in these parts! He had even done better and had gone himself

to reconnoitre these imaginary reefs which his look-outs had reported

they had seen in the east.

It nevertheless had been only too true, and Captain Turcott's

reconnaissance would have certainly prevented the catastrophe if it had

only been pushed far enough. But what was the good of returning to the

past?

The important question in face of what had happened--a question of life

or death--was for Godfrey to know if he was near to some land. In what

part of the Pacific there would be time later on to determine. Before

everything he must think as soon as the day came of how to leave the

rock, which in its biggest part could not measure more that twenty yards

square. But people do not leave one place except to go to another. And

if this other did not exist, if the captain had been deceived in the

fog, if around the breakers there stretched a boundless sea, if at the

extreme point of view the sky and the water seemed to meet all round the

horizon?

The thoughts of the young man were thus concentrated on this point. All

his powers of vision did he employ to discover through the black night

if any confused mass, any heap of rocks or cliffs, would reveal the

neighbourhood of land to the eastward of the reef.

Godfrey saw nothing. Not a smell of earth reached his nose, not a

sensation of light reached his eyes, not a sound reached his ears. Not a

bird traversed the darkness. It seemed that around him there was nothing

but a vast desert of water.

Godfrey did not hide from himself that the chances were a thousand to

one that he was lost. He no longer thought of making the tour of the

world, but of facing death, and calmly and bravely his thoughts rose to

that Providence which can do all things for the feeblest of its

creatures, though the creatures can do nothing of themselves. And so

Godfrey had to wait for the day to resign himself to his fate, if safety

was impossible; and, on the contrary, to try everything, if there was

any chance of life.

Calmed by the very gravity of his reflections, Godfrey had seated

himself on the rock. He had stripped off some of his clothes which had

been saturated by the sea-water, his woollen waistcoat and his heavy

boots, so as to be ready to jump into the sea if necessary.

However, was it possible that no one had survived the wreck? What! not

one of the men of the _Dream_ carried to shore? Had they all been sucked

in by the terrible whirlpool which the ship had drawn round herself as

she sank? The last to whom Godfrey had spoken was Captain Turcott,

resolved not to quit his ship while one of his sailors was still there!

It was the captain himself who had hurled him into the sea at the moment

the _Dream_ was disappearing.

But the others, the unfortunate Tartlet, and the unhappy Chinese,

surprised without doubt, and swallowed up, the one in the poop, the

other in the depths of the hold, what had become of them? Of all those

on board the _Dream_, was he the only one saved? And had the steam

launch remained at the stern of the steamer? Could not a few passengers

or sailors have saved themselves therein, and found time to flee from

the wreck? But was it not rather to be feared that the launch had been

dragged down by the ship under several fathoms of water?

Godfrey then said to himself, that if in this dark night he could not

see, he could at least make himself heard. There was nothing to prevent

his shouting and hailing in the deep silence. Perhaps the voice of one

of his companions would respond to his.

Over and over again then did he call, giving forth a prolonged shout

which should have been heard for a considerable distance round. Not a

cry answered to his.

He began again, many times, turning successively to every point of the

horizon.

Absolute silence.

"Alone! alone!" he murmured.

Not only had no cry answered to his, but no echo had sent him back the

sound of his own voice. Had he been near a cliff, not far from a group

of rocks, such as generally border the shore, it was certain that his

shouts, repelled by the obstacles, would have returned to him. Either

eastwards of the reef, therefore, stretched a low-lying shore

ill-adapted for the production of an echo, or there was no land in his

vicinity, the bed of breakers on which he had found refuge was isolated.

Three hours were passed in these anxieties. Godfrey, quite chilled,

walked about the top of the rock, trying to battle with the cold. At

last a few pale beams of light tinged the clouds in the zenith. It was

the reflection of the first colouring of the horizon.

Godfrey turned to this side--the only one towards which there could be

land--to see if any cliff outlined itself in the shadow. With its early

rays the rising sun might disclose its features more distinctly.

But nothing appeared through the misty dawn. A light fog was rising

over the sea, which did not even admit of his discovering the extent of

the breakers.

[Illustration: Nothing appeared through the mist. _page 82_]

He had, therefore, to satisfy himself with illusions. If Godfrey were

really cast on an isolated rock in the Pacific, it was death to him

after a brief delay, death by hunger, by thirst, or if necessary, death

at the bottom of the sea as a last resource!

However, he kept constantly looking, and it seemed as though the

intensity of his gaze increased enormously, for all his will was

concentrated therein.

At length the morning mist began to fade away. Godfrey saw the rocks

which formed the reef successively defined in relief on the sea, like a

troop of marine monsters. It was a long and irregular assemblage of dark

boulders, strangely worn, of all sizes and forms, whose direction was

almost west and east. The enormous block on the top of which Godfrey

found himself emerged from the sea on the western edge of the bank

scarcely thirty fathoms from the spot where the _Dream_ had gone down.

The sea hereabouts appeared to be very deep, for of the steamer nothing

was to be seen, not even the ends of her masts. Perhaps by some

under-current she had been drawn away from the reefs.

A glance was enough for Godfrey to take in this state of affairs.

There was no safety on that side. All his attention was directed towards

the other side of the breakers, which the lifting fog was gradually

disclosing. The sea, now that the tide had retired, allowed the rocks to

stand out very distinctly. They could be seen to lengthen as there humid

bases widened. Here were vast intervals of water, there a few shallow

pools. If they joined on to any coast, it would not be difficult to

reach it.

Up to the present, however, there was no sign of any shore. Nothing yet

indicated the proximity of dry land, even in this direction.

The fog continued to lift, and the field of view persistently watched by

Godfrey continued to grow. Its wreaths had now rolled off for about half

a mile or so. Already a few sandy flats appeared among the rocks,

carpeted with their slimy sea-weed.

Did not this sand indicate more or less the presence of a beach, and if

the beach existed, could there be a doubt but what it belonged to the

coast of a more important land? At length a long profile of low hills,

buttressed with huge granitic rocks, became clearly outlined and seemed

to shut in the horizon on the east. The sun had drunk up all the morning

vapours, and his disc broke forth in all its glory.

"Land! land!" exclaimed Godfrey.

And he stretched his hands towards the shore-line, as he knelt on the

reef and offered his thanks to Heaven.

It was really land. The breakers only formed a projecting ridge,

something like the southern cape of a bay, which curved round for about

two miles or more. The bottom of the curve seemed to be a level beach,

bordered by trifling hills, contoured here and there with lines of

vegetation, but of no great size.

From the place which Godfrey occupied, his view was able to grasp the

whole of this side.

Bordered north and south by two unequal promontories, it stretched away

for, at the most, five or six miles. It was possible, however, that it

formed part of a large district. Whatever it was, it offered at the

least temporary safety. Godfrey, at the sight, could not conceive a

doubt but that he had not been thrown on to a solitary reef, and that

this morsel of ground would satisfy his earliest wants.

"To land! to land!" he said to himself.

But before he left the reef, he gave a look round for the last time. His

eyes again interrogated the sea away up to the horizon. Would some raft

appear on the surface of the waves, some fragment of the _Dream_, some

survivor, perhaps?

Nothing. The launch even was not there, and had probably been dragged

into the common abyss.

Then the idea occurred to Godfrey that among the breakers some of his

companions might have found a refuge, and were, like him, waiting for

the day to try and reach the shore.

There was nobody, neither on the rocks, nor on the beach! The reef was

as deserted as the ocean!

But in default of survivors, had not the sea thrown up some of the

corpses? Could not Godfrey find among the rocks, along to the utmost

boundary of the surf, the inanimate bodies of some of his companions?

No! Nothing along the whole length of the breakers, which the last

ripples of the ebb had now left bare.

Godfrey was alone! He could only count on himself to battle with the

dangers of every sort which environed him!

Before this reality, however, Godfrey, let it be said to his credit, did

not quail. But as before everything it was best for him to ascertain the

nature of the ground from which he was separated by so short a distance,

he left the summit of the rock and began to approach the shore.

When the interval which separated the rocks was too great to be cleared

at a bound, he got down into the water, and sometimes walking and

sometimes swimming he easily gained the one next in order. When there

was but a yard or two between, he jumped from one rock to the other.

His progress over these slimy stones, carpeted with glistening

sea-weeds, was not easy, and it was long. Nearly a quarter of a mile had

thus to be traversed.

But Godfrey was active and handy, and at length he set foot on the land

where there probably awaited him, if not early death, at least a

miserable life worse than death. Hunger, thirst, cold, and nakedness,

and perils of all kinds; without a weapon of defence, without a gun to

shoot with, without a change of clothes--such the extremities to which

he was reduced.

How imprudent he had been! He had been desirous of knowing if he was

capable of making his way in the world under difficult circumstances! He

had put himself to the proof! He had envied the lot of a Crusoe! Well,

he would see if the lot were an enviable one!

And then there returned to his mind the thought of his happy existence,

that easy life in San Francisco, in the midst of a rich and loving

family, which he had abandoned to throw himself into adventures. He

thought of his Uncle Will, of his betrothed Phina, of his friends who

would doubtless never see him again.

As he called up these remembrances his heart swelled, and in spite of

his resolution a tear rose to his eyes.

And again, if he was not alone, if some other survivor of the shipwreck

had managed, like him, to reach the shore, and even in default of the

captain or the mate, this proved to be Professor Tartlet, how little he

could depend on that frivolous being, and how slightly improved the

chances of the future appeared! At this point, however, he still had

hope. If he had found no trace among the breakers, would he meet with

any on the beach?

Who else but he had already touched the shore, seeking a companion who

was seeking him?

Godfrey took another long look from north to south. He did not notice a

single human being. Evidently this portion of the earth was uninhabited.

In any case there was no sign, not a trace of smoke in the air, not a

vestige.

"Let us get on!" said Godfrey to himself.

And he walked along the beach towards the north, before venturing to

climb the sand dunes, which would allow him to reconnoitre the country

over a larger extent.

The silence was absolute. The sand had received no other footmark. A few

sea-birds, gulls or guillemots, were skimming along the edge of the

rocks, the only living things in the solitude.

Godfrey continued his walk for a quarter of an hour. At last he was

about to turn on to the talus of the most elevated of the dunes, dotted

with rushes and brushwood, when he suddenly stopped.

A shapeless object, extraordinarily distended, something like the

corpse of a sea monster, thrown there, doubtless, by the late storm, was

lying about thirty paces off on the edge of the reef.

Godfrey hastened to run towards it.

The nearer he approached the more rapidly did his heart beat. In truth,

in this stranded animal he seemed to recognize a human form.

Godfrey was not ten paces away from it, when he stopped as if rooted to

the soil, and exclaimed,--

"Tartlet!"

It was the professor of dancing and deportment.

Godfrey rushed towards his companion, who perhaps still breathed.

A moment afterwards he saw that it was the life-belt which produced this

extraordinary distension, and gave the aspect of a monster of the sea to

the unfortunate professor.

But although Tartlet was motionless, was he dead? Perhaps this natatory

clothing had kept him above water, while the surf had borne him to

shore?

Godfrey set to work. He knelt down by Tartlet; he unloosed the life-belt

and rubbed him vigorously. He noticed at last a light breath on the

half-opened lips! He put his hand on his heart! The heart still beat.

Godfrey spoke to him.

Tartlet shook his head, then he gave utterance to a hoarse exclamation,

followed by incoherent words.

Godfrey shook him violently.

Tartlet then opened his eyes, passed his left hand over his brow, lifted

his right hand and assured himself that his precious kit and bow, which

he tightly held, had not abandoned him.

"Tartlet! My dear Tartlet!" shouted Godfrey, lightly raising his head.

The head with his mass of tumbled hair gave an affirmative nod.

"It is I! I! Godfrey!"

"Godfrey?" asked the professor.

And then he turned over, and rose on to his knees, and looked about, and

smiled, and rose to his feet! He had discovered that at last he was on a

solid base! He had gathered that he was no longer on the ship's deck,

exposed to all the uncertainties of its pitches and its rolls! The sea

had ceased to carry him! He stood on firm ground!

And then Professor Tartlet recovered the aplomb which he had lost since

his departure; his feet placed themselves naturally, with their toes

turned out, in the regulation position; his left hand seized his kit,

his right hand grasped his bow.

Then, while the strings, vigorously attacked, gave forth a humid sound

of melancholy sonorousness, these words escaped his smiling lips,--

"In place, miss!"

The good man was thinking of Phina.

Godfrey Morgan: A Californian Mystery · 第 8 / 22 章