Chapter 13
How had it happened? who had killed the convicts? Was it Ayrton? No, fora moment before he was dreading their return.
But Ayrton was now in a profound stupor, from which it was no longerpossible to rouse him. After uttering those few words he had againbecome unconscious, and had fallen back motionless on the bed.
The colonists, a prey to a thousand confused thoughts, under theinfluence of violent excitement, waited all night, without leavingAyrton's house, or returning to the spot where lay the bodies of theconvicts. It was very probable that Ayrton would not be able to throwany light on the circumstances under which the bodies had been found,since he himself was not aware that he was in the corral. But at anyrate he would be in a position to give an account of what had takenplace before this terrible execution. The next day Ayrton awoke from historpor, and his companions cordially manifested all the joy they felt,on seeing him again, almost safe and sound, after a hundred and fourdays separation.
Ayrton then in a few words recounted what had happened, or, at least, asmuch as he knew.
The day after his arrival at the corral, on the 10th of last November,at nightfall, he was surprised by the convicts, who had scaled thepalisade. They bound and gagged him; then he was led to a dark cavern,at the foot of Mount Franklin, where the convicts had taken refuge.
His death had been decided upon, and the next day the convicts wereabout to kill him, when one of them recognized him and called him bythe name which he bore in Australia. The wretches had no scruples as tomurdering Ayrton! They spared Ben Joyce!
But from that moment Ayrton was exposed to the importunities of hisformer accomplices. They wished him to join them again, and relied uponhis aid to enable them to gain possession of Granite House, to penetrateinto that hitherto inaccessible dwelling, and to become masters of theisland, after murdering the colonists!
Ayrton remained firm. The once convict, now repentant and pardoned,would rather die than betray his companions. Ayrton--bound, gagged, andclosely watched--lived in this cave for four months.
Nevertheless the convicts had discovered the corral a short time aftertheir arrival in the island, and since then they had subsisted onAyrton's stores, but did not live at the corral.
On the 11th of November, two of the villains, surprised by thecolonists' arrival, fired at Herbert, and one of them returned, boastingof having killed one of the inhabitants of the island; but he returnedalone. His companion, as is known, fell by Cyrus Harding's dagger.
Ayrton's anxiety and despair may be imagined when he learned the news ofHerbert's death. The settlers were now only four, and, as it seemed,at the mercy of the convicts. After this event, and during all thetime that the colonists, detained by Herbert's illness, remained in thecorral, the pirates did not leave their cavern, and even after they hadpillaged the plateau of Prospect Heights, they did not think it prudentto abandon it.
The ill-treatment inflicted on Ayrton was now redoubled. His hands andfeet still bore the bloody marks of the cords which bound him day andnight. Every moment he expected to be put to death, nor did it appearpossible that he could escape.
Matters remained thus until the third week of February. The convicts,still watching for a favorable opportunity, rarely quitted theirretreat, and only made a few hunting excursions, either to the interiorof the island, or the south coast.
Ayrton had no further news of his friends, and relinquished all hopeof ever seeing them again. At last, the unfortunate man, weakenedby ill-treatment, fell into a prostration so profound that sight andhearing failed him. From that moment, that is to say, since the last twodays, he could give no information whatever of what had occurred.
"But, Captain Harding," he added, "since I was imprisoned in thatcavern, how is it that I find myself in the corral?"
"How is it that the convicts are lying yonder dead, in the middle of theenclosure?" answered the engineer.
"Dead!" cried Ayrton, half rising from his bed, notwithstanding hisweakness.
His companions supported him. He wished to get up, and with theirassistance he did so. They then proceeded together towards the littlestream.
It was now broad daylight.
There, on the bank, in the position in which they had been strickenby death in its most instantaneous form, lay the corpses of the fiveconvicts!
Ayrton was astounded. Harding and his companions looked at him withoututtering a word. On a sign from the engineer, Neb and Pencroft examinedthe bodies, already stiffened by the cold.
They bore no apparent trace of any wound.
Only, after carefully examining them, Pencroft found on the forehead ofone, on the chest of another, on the back of this one, on the shoulderof that, a little red spot, a sort of scarcely visible bruise, the causeof which it was impossible to conjecture.
"It is there that they have been struck!" said Cyrus Harding.
"But with what weapon?" cried the reporter.
"A weapon, lightning-like in its effects, and of which we have not thesecret!"
"And who has struck the blow?" asked Pencroft.
"The avenging power of the island," replied Harding, "he who brought youhere, Ayrton, whose influence has once more manifested itself, who doesfor us all that which we cannot do for ourselves, and who, his willaccomplished, conceals himself from us."
"Let us make search for him, then!" exclaimed Pencroft.
"Yes, we will search for him," answered Harding, "but we shall notdiscover this powerful being who performs such wonders, until he pleasesto call us to him!"
This invisible protection, which rendered their own action unavailing,both irritated and piqued the engineer. The relative inferiority whichit proved was of a nature to wound a haughty spirit. A generosityevinced in such a manner as to elude all tokens of gratitude, implied asort of disdain for those on whom the obligation was conferred, which inCyrus Harding's eyes marred, in some degree, the worth of the benefit.
"Let us search," he resumed, "and God grant that we may some day bepermitted to prove to this haughty protector that he has not to dealwith ungrateful people! What would I not give could we repay him, byrendering him in our turn, although at the price of our lives, somesignal service!"
From this day, the thoughts of the inhabitants of Lincoln Island weresolely occupied with the intended search. Everything incited them todiscover the answer to this enigma, an answer which would only be thename of a man endowed with a truly inexplicable, and in some degreesuperhuman power.
In a few minutes, the settlers re-entered the house, where theirinfluence soon restored to Ayrton his moral and physical energy. Neband Pencroft carried the corpses of the convicts into the forest, somedistance from the corral, and buried them deep in the ground.
Ayrton was then made acquainted with the facts which had occurred duringhis seclusion. He learned Herbert's adventures, and through what varioustrials the colonists had passed. As to the settlers, they had despairedof ever seeing Ayrton again, and had been convinced that the convictshad ruthlessly murdered him.
"And now," said Cyrus Harding, as he ended his recital, "a duty remainsfor us to perform. Half of our task is accomplished, but although theconvicts are no longer to be feared, it is not owing to ourselves thatwe are once more masters of the island."
"Well!" answered Gideon Spilett, "let us search all this labyrinth ofthe spurs of Mount Franklin. We will not leave a hollow, not a holeunexplored! Ah! if ever a reporter found himself face to face with amystery, it is I who now speak to you, my friends!"
"And we will not return to Granite House until we have found ourbenefactor," said Herbert.
"Yes," said the engineer, "we will do all that it is humanly possible todo, but I repeat we shall not find him until he himself permits us."
"Shall we stay at the corral?" asked Pencroft.
"We shall stay here," answered Harding. "Provisions are abundant, and weare here in the very center of the circle we have to explore. Besides,if necessary, the cart will take us rapidly to Granite
House."
"Good!" answered the sailor. "Only I have a remark to make."
"What is it?"
"Here is the fine season getting on, and we must not forget that we havea voyage to make."
"A voyage?" said Gideon Spilett.
"Yes, to Tabor Island," answered Pencroft. "It is necessary to carry anotice there to point out the position of our island and say that Ayrtonis here in case the Scotch yacht should come to take him off. Who knowsif it is not already too late?"
"But, Pencroft," asked Ayrton, "how do you intend to make this voyage?"
"In the 'Bonadventure.'"
"The 'Bonadventure!'" exclaimed Ayrton. "She no longer exists."
"My 'Bonadventure' exists no longer!" shouted Pencroft, bounding fromhis seat.
"No," answered Ayrton. "The convicts discovered her in her little harboronly eight days ago, they put to sea in her--"
"And?" said Pencroft, his heart beating.
"And not having Bob Harvey to steer her, they ran on the rocks, and thevessel went to pieces."
"Oh, the villains, the cutthroats, the infamous scoundrels!" exclaimedPencroft.
"Pencroft," said Herbert, taking the sailor's hand, "we will buildanother 'Bonadventure'--a larger one. We have all the ironwork--all therigging of the brig at our disposal."
"But do you know," returned Pencroft, "that it will take at least fiveor six months to build a vessel of from thirty to forty tons?"
"We can take our time," said the reporter, "and we must give up thevoyage to Tabor Island for this year."
"Oh, my 'Bonadventure!' my poor 'Bonadventure!'" cried Pencroft, almostbroken-hearted at the destruction of the vessel of which he was soproud.
The loss of the "Bonadventure" was certainly a thing to be lamented bythe colonists, and it was agreed that this loss should be repairedas soon as possible. This settled, they now occupied themselves withbringing their researches to bear on the most secret parts of theisland.
The exploration was commenced at daybreak on the 19th of February, andlasted an entire week. The base of the mountain, with its spurs andtheir numberless ramifications, formed a labyrinth of valleys andelevations. It was evident that there, in the depths of these narrowgorges, perhaps even in the interior of Mount Franklin itself, was theproper place to pursue their researches. No part of the island couldhave been more suitable to conceal a dwelling whose occupant wished toremain unknown. But so irregular was the formation of the valleys thatCyrus Harding was obliged to conduct the exploration in a strictlymethodical manner.
The colonists first visited the valley opening to the south of thevolcano, and which first received the waters of Falls River. ThereAyrton showed them the cavern where the convicts had taken refuge, andin which he had been imprisoned until his removal to the corral. Thiscavern was just as Ayrton had left it. They found there a considerablequantity of ammunition and provisions, conveyed thither by the convictsin order to form a reserve.
The whole of the valley bordering on the cave, shaded by fir andother trees, was thoroughly explored, and on turning the point of thesouthwestern spur, the colonists entered a narrower gorge similar to thepicturesque columns of basalt on the coast. Here the trees were fewer.Stones took the place of grass. Goats and musmons gambolled among therocks. Here began the barren part of the island. It could already beseen that, of the numerous valleys branching off at the base of MountFranklin, three only were wooded and rich in pasturage like that of thecorral, which bordered on the west on the Falls River valley, and on theeast on the Red Creek valley. These two streams, which lower down becamerivers by the absorption of several tributaries, were formed by all thesprings of the mountain and thus caused the fertility of its southernpart. As to the Mercy, it was more directly fed from ample springsconcealed under the cover of Jacamar Wood, and it was by springs ofthis nature, spreading in a thousand streamlets, that the soil of theSerpentine Peninsula was watered.
Now, of these three well-watered valleys, either might have served as aretreat to some solitary who would have found there everything necessaryfor life. But the settlers had already explored them, and in no part hadthey discovered the presence of man.
Was it then in the depths of those barren gorges, in the midst of thepiles of rock, in the rugged northern ravines, among the streams oflava, that this dwelling and its occupant would be found?
The northern part of Mount Franklin was at its base composed solely oftwo valleys, wide, not very deep, without any appearance of vegetation,strewn with masses of rock, paved with lava, and varied with greatblocks of mineral. This region required a long and careful exploration.It contained a thousand cavities, comfortless no doubt, but perfectlyconcealed and difficult of access.
The colonists even visited dark tunnels, dating from the volcanicperiod, still black from the passage of the fire, and penetrated intothe depths of the mountain. They traversed these somber galleries,waving lighted torches; they examined the smallest excavations; theysounded the shallowest depths, but all was dark and silent. It didnot appear that the foot of man had ever before trodden these ancientpassages, or that his arm had ever displaced one of these blocks, whichremained as the volcano had cast them up above the waters, at the timeof the submersion of the island.
However, although these passages appeared to be absolutely deserted, andthe obscurity was complete, Cyrus Harding was obliged to confess thatabsolute silence did not reign there.
On arriving at the end of one of these gloomy caverns, extending severalhundred feet into the interior of the mountain, he was surprised to heara deep rumbling noise, increased in intensity by the sonorousness of therocks.
Gideon Spilett, who accompanied him, also heard these distantmutterings, which indicated a revivification of the subterranean fires.Several times both listened, and they agreed that some chemical processwas taking place in the bowels of the earth.
"Then the volcano is not totally extinct?" said the reporter.
"It is possible that since our exploration of the crater," replied CyrusHarding, "some change has occurred. Any volcano, although consideredextinct, may evidently again burst forth."
"But if an eruption of Mount Franklin occurred," asked Spilett, "wouldthere not be some danger to Lincoln Island?"
"I do not think so," answered the reporter. "The crater, that is tosay, the safety-valve, exists, and the overflow of smoke and lava, wouldescape, as it did formerly, by this customary outlet."
"Unless the lava opened a new way for itself towards the fertile partsof the island!"
"And why, my dear Spilett," answered Cyrus Harding, "should it notfollow the road naturally traced out for it?"
"Well, volcanoes are capricious," returned the reporter.
"Notice," answered the engineer, "that the inclination of Mount Franklinfavors the flow of water towards the valleys which we are exploring justnow. To turn aside this flow, an earthquake would be necessary to changethe mountain's center of gravity."
"But an earthquake is always to be feared at these times," observedGideon Spilett.
"Always," replied the engineer, "especially when the subterranean forcesbegin to awake, as they risk meeting with some obstruction, after a longrest. Thus, my dear Spilett, an eruption would be a serious thingfor us, and it would be better that the volcano should not have theslightest desire to wake up. But we could not prevent it, could we? Atany rate, even if it should occur, I do not think Prospect Heights wouldbe seriously threatened. Between them and the mountain, the groundis considerably depressed, and if the lava should ever take a coursetowards the lake, it would be cast on the downs and the neighboringparts of Shark Gulf."
"We have not yet seen any smoke at the top of the mountain, to indicatean approaching eruption," said Gideon Spilett.
"No," answered Harding, "not a vapor escapes from the crater, for itwas only yesterday that I attentively surveyed the summit. But itis probable that at the lower part of the chimney, time may haveaccumulated rocks, cinders, hardened lava, and that this valve of whichI spoke,
may at any time become overcharged. But at the first seriouseffort, every obstacle will disappear, and you may be certain, my dearSpilett, that neither the island, which is the boiler, nor thevolcano, which is the chimney, will burst under the pressure of gas.Nevertheless, I repeat, it would be better that there should not be aneruption."
"And yet we are not mistaken," remarked the reporter. "Mutterings can bedistinctly heard in the very bowels of the volcano!"
"You are right," said the engineer, again listening attentively. "Therecan be no doubt of it. A commotion is going on there, of which we canneither estimate the importance nor the ultimate result."
Cyrus Harding and Spilett, on coming out, rejoined their companions, towhom they made known the state of affairs.
"Very well!" cried Pencroft, "The volcano wants to play his pranks! Lethim try, if he likes! He will find his master!"
"Who?" asked Neb.
"Our good genius, Neb, our good genius, who will shut his mouth for him,if he so much as pretends to open it!"
As may be seen, the sailor's confidence in the tutelary deity of hisisland was absolute, and, certainly, the occult power, manifested untilnow in so many inexplicable ways, appeared to be unlimited; but also itknew how to escape the colonists' most minute researches, for, inspite of all their efforts, in spite of the more than zeal,--theobstinacy,--with which they carried on their exploration, the retreat ofthe mysterious being could not be discovered.
From the 19th to the 20th of February the circle of investigation wasextended to all the northern region of Lincoln Island, whose most secretnooks were explored. The colonists even went the length of tapping everyrock. The search was extended to the extreme verge of the mountain. Itwas explored thus to the very summit of the truncated cone terminatingthe first row of rocks, then to the upper ridge of the enormous hat, atthe bottom of which opened the crater.
They did more; they visited the gulf, now extinct, but in whose depthsthe rumbling could be distinctly heard. However, no sign of smoke orvapor, no heating of the rock, indicated an approaching eruption.But neither there, nor in any other part of Mount Franklin, did thecolonists find any traces of him of whom they were in search.
Their investigations were then directed to the downs. They carefullyexamined the high lava-cliffs of Shark Gulf from the base to the crest,although it was extremely difficult to reach even the level of the gulf.No one!--nothing!
Indeed, in these three words was summed up so much fatigue uselesslyexpended, so much energy producing no results, that somewhat of angermingled with the discomfiture of Cyrus Harding and his companions.
It was now time to think of returning, for these researches could not beprolonged indefinitely. The colonists were certainly right in believingthat the mysterious being did not reside on the surface of the island,and the wildest fancies haunted their excited imaginations. Pencroftand Neb, particularly, were not contented with the mystery, but allowedtheir imaginations to wander into the domain of the supernatural.
On the 25th of February the colonists re-entered Granite House, and bymeans of the double cord, carried by an arrow to the threshold of thedoor, they re-established communication between their habitation and theground.
A month later they commemorated, on the 25th of March, the thirdanniversary of their arrival on Lincoln Island.