The Return -- Discussion -- Cyrus Harding and the Stranger --
Port Balloon -- The Engineer's Devotion -- A touching
Incident -- Tears flow.
The next day, the 20th of October, at seven o'clock in the morning,
after a voyage of four days, the _Bonadventure_ gently glided up to
the beach at the mouth of the Mercy.
Cyrus Harding and Neb, who had become very uneasy at the bad weather
and the prolonged absence of their companions, had climbed at daybreak
to the plateau of Prospect Heights, and they had at last caught sight
of the vessel which had been so long in returning.
"God be praised! there they are!" exclaimed Cyrus Harding.
As to Neb in his joy, he began to dance, to twirl round, clapping his
hands and shouting, "Oh! my master!" A more touching pantomime than
the finest discourse.
The engineer's first idea, on counting the people on the deck of the
_Bonadventure_, was that Pencroft had not found the castaway of Tabor
Island, or at any rate that the unfortunate man had refused to leave
his island and change one prison for another.
Indeed Pencroft, Gideon Spilett, and Herbert were alone on the deck of
the _Bonadventure_.
The moment the vessel touched, the engineer and Neb were waiting on
the beach, and before the passengers had time to leap on to the sand,
Harding said: "We have been very uneasy at your delay, my friends! Did
you meet with any accident?"
"No," replied Gideon Spilett; "on the contrary, everything went
wonderfully well. We will tell you all about it."
"However," returned the engineer, "your search has been unsuccessful,
since you are only three just as you went!"
"Excuse me, captain," replied the sailor, "we are four."
"You have found the castaway?"
"Yes."
"And you have brought him?"
"Yes."
"Living?"
"Yes."
"Where is he? Who is he?"
"He is," replied the reporter, "or rather he was, a man! There, Cyrus,
that is all we can tell you!"
The engineer was then informed of all that had passed during the
voyage, and under what conditions the search had been conducted; how
the only dwelling in the island had long been abandoned; how at last a
castaway had been captured, who appeared no longer to belong to the
human species.
"And that's just the point," added Pencroft, "I don't know if we have
done right to bring him here."
"Certainly you have, Pencroft," replied the engineer quickly.
"But the wretched creature has no sense!"
"That is possible at present," replied Cyrus Harding; "but only a few
months ago the wretched creature was a man like you and me. And who
knows what will become of the survivor of us after a long solitude on
this island? It is a great misfortune to be alone, my friends; and it
must be believed that solitude can quickly destroy reason, since you
have found this poor creature in such a state!"
"But, captain," asked Herbert, "what leads you to think that the
brutishness of the unfortunate man began only a few months back?"
"Because the document we found had been recently written," answered
the engineer, "and the castaway alone can have written it."
"Always supposing," observed Gideon Spilett, "that it had not been
written by a companion of this man, since dead."
"That is impossible, my dear Spilett."
"Why so?" asked the reporter.
"Because the document would then have spoken of two castaways,"
replied Harding, "and it mentioned only one."
Herbert then in a few words related the incidents of the voyage, and
dwelt on the curious fact of the sort of passing gleam in the
prisoner's mind, when for an instant in the height of the storm he had
become a sailor.
"Well, Herbert," replied the engineer, "you are right to attach great
importance to this fact. The unfortunate man cannot be incurable, and
despair has made him what he is; but here he will find his fellow-men,
and since there is still a soul in him, this soul we shall save!"
The castaway of Tabor Island, to the great pity of the engineer and
the great astonishment of Neb, was then brought from the cabin which
he occupied in the fore part of the _Bonadventure_; when once on land
he manifested a wish to run away.
But Cyrus Harding approaching, placed his hand on his shoulder with a
gesture full of authority, and looked at him with infinite tenderness.
Immediately the unhappy man, submitting to a superior will, gradually
became calm, his eyes fell, his head bent, and he made no more
resistance.
"Poor fellow!" murmured the engineer.
Cyrus Harding had attentively observed him. To judge by his appearance
this miserable being had no longer anything human about him, and yet
Harding, as had the reporter already, observed in his look an
indefinable trace of intelligence.
It was decided that the castaway, or rather the stranger, as he was
thenceforth termed by his companions, should live in one of the rooms
of Granite House, from which, however, he could not escape. He was led
there without difficulty; and with careful attention, it might,
perhaps, be hoped that some day he would be a companion to the
settlers in Lincoln Island.
Cyrus Harding, during breakfast, which Neb had hastened to prepare, as
the reporter, Herbert, and Pencroft were dying of hunger, heard in
detail all the incidents which had marked the voyage of exploration to
the islet. He agreed with his friends on this point, that the stranger
must be either English or American, the name Britannia leading them to
suppose this, and, besides, through the bushy beard, and under the
shaggy, matted hair, the engineer thought he could recognise the
characteristic features of the Anglo-Saxon.
[Illustration: "POOR FELLOW," MURMURED THE ENGINEER]
"But, by the bye," said Gideon Spilett, addressing Herbert, "you never
told us how you met this savage, and we know nothing, except that you
would have been strangled, if we had not happened to come up in time
to help you!"
"Upon my word," answered Herbert, "it is rather difficult to say how
it happened. I was, I think, occupied in collecting my plants, when I
heard a noise like an avalanche falling from a very tall tree. I
scarcely had time to look round. This unfortunate man, who was without
doubt concealed in a tree, rushed upon me in less time than I take to
tell you about it, and unless Mr. Spilett and Pencroft--"
"My boy!" said Cyrus Harding, "you ran a great danger, but, perhaps,
without that, the poor creature would have still hidden himself from
your search, and we should not have had a new companion."
"You hope, then, Cyrus, to succeed in reforming the man?" asked the
reporter.
"Yes," replied the engineer.
Breakfast over, Harding and his companions left Granite House and
returned to the beach. They there occupied themselves in unloading the
_Bonadventure_, and the engineer, having examined the arms and tools,
saw nothing which could help them to establish the identity of the
stranger.
The capture of pigs, made on the islet, was looked upon as being very
profitable to Lincoln Island, and the animals were led to the sty,
where they soon became at home.
The two barrels, containing the powder and shot, as well as the box of
caps, were very welcome. It was agreed to establish a small
powder-magazine, either outside Granite House or in the Upper Cavern,
where there would be no fear of explosion. However, the use of
pyroxyle was to be continued, for this substance giving excellent
results, there was no reason for substituting ordinary powder.
When the unloading of the vessel was finished,--
"Captain," said Pencroft, "I think it would be prudent to put our
_Bonadventure_ in a safe place."
"Is she not safe at the mouth of the Mercy?" asked Cyrus Harding.
"No, captain," replied the sailor. "Half of the time she is stranded
on the sand, and that works her. She is a famous craft, you see, and
she behaved admirably during the squall which struck us on our
return."
"Could she not float in the river?"
"No doubt, captain, she could; but there is no shelter there, and in
the east winds, I think that the _Bonadventure_ would suffer much from
the surf."
"Well, where would you put her, Pencroft?"
"In Port Balloon," replied the sailor. "That little creek, shut in by
rocks, seems to me to be just the harbour we want."
"Is it not rather far?"
"Pooh! it is not more than three miles from Granite House, and we have
a fine straight road to take us there!"
"Do it then, Pencroft, and take your _Bonadventure_ there," replied
the engineer, "and yet I would rather have her under our more
immediate protection. When we have time, we must make a little harbour
for her."
"Famous!" exclaimed Pencroft. "A harbour with a lighthouse, a pier,
and a dock! Ah! really with you, captain, everything becomes easy."
"Yes, my brave Pencroft," answered the engineer, "but on condition,
however, that you help me, for you do as much as three men in all our
work."
Herbert and the sailor then re-embarked on board the _Bonadventure_,
the anchor was weighed, the sail hoisted, and the wind drove her
rapidly towards Claw Cape. Two hours after, she was reposing on the
tranquil waters of Port Balloon.
During the first days passed by the stranger in Granite House, had he
already given them reason to think that his savage nature was becoming
tamed? Did a brighter light burn in the depths of that obscured mind?
In short, was the soul returning to the body?
Yes, to a certainty, and to such a degree, that Cyrus Harding and the
reporter wondered if the reason of the unfortunate man had ever been
totally extinguished. At first, accustomed to the open air, to the
unrestrained liberty which he had enjoyed on Tabor Island, the
stranger manifested a sullen fury, and it was feared that he might
throw himself on to the beach, out of one of the windows of Granite
House. But gradually he became calmer, and more freedom was allowed to
his movements.
They had reason to hope, and to hope much. Already, forgetting his
carnivorous instincts, the stranger accepted a less bestial
nourishment than that on which he fed on the islet, and cooked meat
did not produce in him the same sentiment of repulsion which he had
showed on board the _Bonadventure_. Cyrus Harding had profited by a
moment when he was sleeping, to cut his hair and matted beard, which
formed a sort of mane, and gave him such a savage aspect. He had also
been clothed more suitably, after having got rid of the rag which
covered him. The result was that, thanks to these attentions, the
stranger resumed a more human appearance, and it even seemed as if his
eyes had become milder. Certainly, when formerly lighted up by
intelligence, this man's face must have had a sort of beauty.
Every day, Harding imposed on himself the task of passing some hours
in his company. He came and worked near him, and occupied himself in
different things, so as to fix his attention. A spark, indeed, would
be sufficient to reillumine that soul, a recollection crossing that
brain to recall reason. That had been seen, during the storm, on board
the _Bonadventure!_ The engineer did not neglect either to speak
aloud, so as to penetrate at the same time by the organs of hearing
and sight the depths of that torpid intelligence. Sometimes one of his
companions, sometimes another, sometimes all joined him. They spoke
most often of things belonging to the navy, which must interest a
sailor.
At times the stranger gave some slight attention to what was said, and
the settlers were soon convinced that he partly understood them.
Sometimes the expression of his countenance was deeply sorrowful, a
proof that he suffered mentally, for his face could not be mistaken;
but he did not speak, although at different times, however, they
almost thought that words were about to issue from his lips. At all
events, the poor creature was quite quiet and sad!
But was not his calm only apparent? Was not his sadness only the
result of his seclusion? Nothing could yet be ascertained. Seeing only
certain objects and in a limited space, always in contact with the
colonists, to whom he would soon become accustomed, having no desires
to satisfy, better fed, better clothed, it was natural that his
physical nature should gradually improve; but was he penetrated with
the sense of a new life? or rather, to employ a word, which would be
exactly applicable to him, was he not becoming tamed, like an animal
in company with his master? This was an important question, which
Cyrus Harding was anxious to answer, and yet he did not wish to treat
his invalid roughly! would he ever be a convalescent?
How the engineer observed him every moment! How he was on the watch
for his soul, if one may use the expression! How he was ready to grasp
it! The settlers followed with real sympathy all the phases of the
cure undertaken by Harding. They aided him also in this work of
humanity, and all, except perhaps the incredulous Pencroft, soon
shared both his hope and his faith.
The calm of the stranger was deep, as has been said, and he even
showed a sort of attachment for the engineer, whose influence he
evidently felt. Cyrus Harding resolved then to try him, by
transporting him to another scene, from that ocean which formerly his
eyes had been accustomed to contemplate, to the border of the forest,
which might perhaps recall those where so many years of his life had
been passed!
"But," said Gideon Spilett, "can we hope that he will not escape, if
once set at liberty?"
"The experiment must be tried," replied the engineer.
"Well!" said Pencroft. "When that fellow is outside, and feels the
fresh air, he will be off as fast as his legs can carry him!"
"I do not think so," returned Harding.
"Let us try," said Spilett.
"We will try," replied the engineer.
This was on the 30th of October, and consequently the castaway of
Tabor Island had been a prisoner in Granite House for nine days. It
was warm, and a bright sun darted his rays on the island. Cyrus
Harding and Pencroft went to the room occupied by the stranger, who
was found lying near the window and gazing at the sky.
"Come, my friend," said the engineer to him.
The stranger rose immediately. His eyes were fixed on Cyrus Harding,
and he followed him, whilst the sailor marched behind them, little
confident as to the result of the experiment.
Arrived at the door, Harding and Pencroft made him take his place in
the lift, whilst Neb, Herbert, and Gideon Spilett waited for them
before Granite House. The lift descended, and in a few moments all
were united on the beach.
The settlers went a short distance from the stranger, so as to leave
him at liberty.
He then made a few steps towards the sea, and his look brightened with
extreme animation, but he did not make the slightest attempt to
escape. He was gazing at the little waves, which broken by the islet
rippled on the sand.
"This is only the sea," observed Gideon Spilett, "and possibly it does
not inspire him with any wish to escape!"
"Yes," replied Harding, "we must take him to the plateau, on the
border of the forest. There the experiment will be more conclusive."
"Besides, he could not run away," said Neb, "since the bridge is
raised."
"Oh!" said Pencroft, "that isn't a man to be troubled by a stream like
Creek Glycerine! He could cross it directly, at a single bound!"
"We shall soon see," Harding contented himself with replying, his eyes
not quitting those of his patient.
The latter was then led towards the mouth of the Mercy, and all
climbing the left bank of the river, reached Prospect Heights.
Arrived at the spot on which grew the first beautiful trees of the
forest, their foliage slightly agitated by the breeze, the stranger
appeared greedily to drink in the penetrating odour which filled the
atmosphere, and a long sigh escaped from his chest.
The settlers kept behind him, ready to seize him if he made any
movement to escape!
And, indeed, the poor creature was on the point of springing into the
creek which separated him from the forest, and his legs were bent for
an instant as if for a spring, but almost immediately he stepped back,
half sank down, and a large tear fell from his eyes.
"Ah!" exclaimed Cyrus Harding, "you have become a man again, for you
can weep!"
[Illustration: THE EXPERIMENT]