Propeller Island

by Jules Verne

  The voyage proceeded with intentional slowness. It was in these regions between the Fijis and the New Hebrides in one hundred and seventy degrees thirty-five minutes of east longitude, and nineteen degrees thirteen minutes south latitude, that the steamer from Marseilles chartered by the Tankerdon and Coverley families was to meet Floating Island.

  The marriage of Walter and Miss Coverley was more than ever the subject of general interest. How could anything else be thought of? Calistus Munbar had not a minute to himself. He was preparing and organizing the different elements of a festival that would make its mark in the annals of Floating Island. That he grew thin over the task need surprise nobody.

  Floating Island did not move more than from twenty to twenty-five kilometres a day. It came within sight of Viti, whose superb banks are bordered with luxuriant forests of sombre verdure. It took three days traversing the tranquil waters from Wanara to Ronde. The passage to which this name is given on the charts afforded a wide road for the Pearl of the Pacific. A number of terrified whales collided with the steel hull, which trembled at the blows. But the plates of the compartments held firm and there were no damages.

  At length in the afternoon of the sixth, the last summits of Fiji disappeared below the horizon. At this moment Commodore Simcoe left the Polynesian for the Melanesian region of the Pacific.

  During the three next days, Floating Island continued to drift towards the west, after reaching the nineteenth degree of south latitude. On the 10th of February it was in the locality where it had been arranged for the steamer from Europe to meet it. The point marked on the charts displayed in Milliard City was known to all. The lookouts at the observatory were on the alert. The horizon was swept by hundreds of telescopes, and as soon as the ship was signalled—all the population were expectant- was not this as it were the prologue of the drama the people were so eager for, the marriage of Walter Tankerdon and Miss Coverley?

  Floating Island had only to remain stationary, to keep in position against the currents of these seas shut in by archipelagoes. Commodore Simcoe gave his orders accordingly, and his officers saw that they were carried out.

  “The position is decidedly most interesting!” said Yvernès.

  This was during the two hours’ rest that he and his comrades habitually allowed themselves after luncheon.

  “Yes,” replied Frascolin, “and we shall have no reason to regret this campaign on Floating Island—whatever friend Zorn may think.”

  “Wait until it is over,” said the violoncellist, “and when we have pocketed the fourth instalment of the salary we have earned.”

  “Well,” said Yvernès, “the company has paid us three since our departure, and I very much approve of what Frascolin, our worthy accountant, has done in sending this large sum to the bank at New York.”

  In fact the worthy accountant had deemed it wise to pay the money through the bankers of Milliard City into one of the best banks in the Union. This was not out of any distrust, but because a bank on shore seemed to offer more security than one floating over five or six thousand metres of Pacific water.

  It was during this conversation, amid the scented wreaths of smoke from pipes and cigars, that Yvernès was led to make the following observation, —

  “The marriage festivities promise to be splendid, my friends. Our superintendent is sparing neither imagination nor pains. He will have showers of dollars, and the fountains of Milliard City will flow with generous wine, I have no doubt. But do you know what is wanting about this ceremony?”

  “A cataract of liquid gold flowing from rocks of diamonds,” exclaimed Pinchinat.

  “No,” replied Yvernès, “a cantata.”

  “A cantata?” asked Frascolin.

  “Undoubtedly,” said Yvernès; “there will be music, we shall play our most favourite pieces, appropriate to the circumstances, but if there is no cantata, no nuptial song, no epithalamium in honour of the young couple—”

  “Why not?” said Frascolin. “If you, Yvernès, will throw together a few lines of unequal length with a rhyme here and there, Sebastien Zorn, who has had experience as a composer, can easily set your words to music.”

  “Excellent idea!” said Pinchinat.

  “That will suit you, old growler! Something matrimonial, you know, with plenty of spiccatos and allegros and molto agitatos and a delirious coda—at five dollars a note.”

  “No; for nothing this time,” said Frascolin.

  “It shall be the Quartette Party’s offering to the nabobs of Floating Island.”

  It was agreed upon, and the violoncellist declared himself ready to implore the inspiration of the God of Music if the God of Poetry would pass his inspiration into the heart of Yvernès.

  And it was from this noble collaboration that there originated the Cantata of Cantatas, in imitation of the Song of Songs, in honour of the union of the Tankerdons and the Coverleys.

  During the afternoon of the 10th, a report got about that a large steamer was in sight, coming from the north-east. Its nationality was unknown, as it was still ten miles off when the shades of twilight sank upon the sea.

  The steamer seemed to be coming at full speed, and there was no doubt it was making for Floating Island. Probably it would not come alongside until sunrise.

  The news produced an indescribable effect. All the feminine imaginations were excited at the thought of the marvels of jewellery and fashion brought by this ship, which had been transformed into a huge wedding basket, of five or six hundred horse power.

  There was no mistake as to the steamer being bound for Floating Island. Early in the morning she had rounded the jetty of Starboard Harbour, and displayed the flag of the Floating Island Company.

  Suddenly another item of news came through the telephones to Milliard City. The flag of this vessel was awaft.

  What then had happened? An accident—a death on board? That would be a sorry omen for the marriage that was to assure the future of Floating Island.

  But there was something else. The steamer in question was not the one expected, and it did not come from Europe. It came from America, from Madeleine Bay. Besides, the steamer laden with the nuptial treasures was not behind time. The wedding was fixed for the 27th, and it was now only the 11th.

  What, then, did this ship mean? What news did it bring? Why was its flag awaft? Why had the Company sent it off to the New Hebrides, where they knew it would fall in with Floating Island?

  Had they to communicate any message of exceptional gravity to the Milliardites?

  Yes, and this was soon to be known.

  The steamer had hardly come alongside than a passenger landed.

  He was one of the superior officers of the Company, who declined to reply to the questions of the numerous and impatient crowd that had assembled on the pier of Starboard Harbour.

  A tram was ready to start, and without losing a moment, the man jumped into one of the cars.

  Ten minutes later he had reached the town hall, and demanded an audience of the Governor “on urgent business” —an audience which was immediately granted.

  Cyrus Bikerstaff received the visitor in his office, the door of which was closed.

  A quarter of an hour had not elapsed before each of the members of the council of thirty notables was summoned telephonically to a meeting of urgency in the assembly room.

  Meanwhile, imagination ran riot in the harbour and the town, and apprehension, following on curiosity, was at its height

  At twenty minutes to eight the council had assembled under the presidency of the Governor. The visitor then made the following declaration; —

  “On the 23rd of January, the Floating Island Company, Limited, stopped payment, and William T. Pomering was appointed liquidator, with full powers to do his best for the interests of the said Company.”

  William T. Pomering, on whom these functions had devolved, was the new arrival.

  The news spread, and, in truth, did not provoke as much excitement as it had produced in Europe. Why
should it? Floating Island, as Pinchinat said, was a detached piece of the United States of America. There was nothing in a failure to astonish Americans, still less to overwhelm them. Was it not one of the phases natural to business, an incident acceptable and accepted? The Milliardites looked at the matter with their habitual coolness. The Company had gone under. Well? That might happen to the most respectable financial companies. Were its liabilities considerable? Very considerable; for, according to the liquidator, they amounted to five hundred million dollars. And what had caused this failure? Speculations —insane, if you please, as they had turned out badly— but which might have succeeded—an immense undertaking for founding a new town on land in Arkansas, which had been swallowed up in a geological depression that no one could have foreseen. After all, it was not the Company’s fault, and if the land came up again, the shareholders might come up again at the same time. Solid as Europe appeared, it might go down some day in a similar way. But there was nothing of that sort to be feared with regard to Floating Island, and did not that triumphantly show its superiority over estates on the continents or terrestrial islands!

  The pressing point was to act. The assets of the Company consisted of the value of Floating Island, hull, works, hotels, houses, country, flotilla—in a word, all that was borne by the floating apparatus designed by William Tersen, all that was connected with it, and the establishments at Madeleine Bay into the bargain. Was it advisable for a new company to be formed to take over the assets by arrangement? Yes. There was no hesitation on this point, and the proceeds of the sale would be applied to the liquidation of the Company’s debts. But in forming this new company, would it be necessary to apply to outside sources? Were not the Milliardites rich enough to pay for Floating Island out of their own pockets? From mere tenants would it not be preferable to become owners of this Pearl of the Pacific?

  That there were millions in the pocket-books of the members of the council of notables we know. And so they were of opinion that it was advisable to buy Floating Island, and without delay. Had the liquidator power to treat? He had. If the Company could realize without delay the sum required for its liquidation, the money must come from the notables of Milliard City, among whom were some of the largest shareholders. Now that the rivalry had ceased between the two principal families and the two sections of the town, the matter could be easily managed. Among the Anglo-Saxons of the United States there is no delay in business matters. The money was at once forthcoming. In the opinion of the notables there was no need to appeal to the public. Jem Tankerdon, Nat Coverley, and a few others offered four hundred million dollars. There was no discussion as to the price. It could be taken or left—and the liquidator took it.

  The council met at thirteen minutes past eight in the room at the town hall. When it separated at forty-seven minutes past nine, the ownership of Floating Island had passed into the hands of the two richest Milliardites and a few of their friends under the name of Jem Tankerdon, Nat Coverley & Co.

  Just as the news of the Company’s failure had caused no emotion among the population of Floating Island, neither did the news of its acquisition by the chief notables. It seemed only natural, and if it had been necessary to raise a more considerable sum, the money would have been there in a moment. It was a great satisfaction to the Milliardites to feel that they were at home, or at least that they were no longer dependent on an outside company. And so the Pearl of the Pacific, as represented by all classes, conveyed its thanks to the two heads of the families who had so well understood the general feeling.

  That very day a meeting was held in the park, and a motion to this effect carried amid a triple round of cheers. Delegates were nominated, and a deputation sent to the Coverley and Tankerdon mansions.

  The deputation was graciously received, and departed with the assurance that nothing would be changed with regard to the regulations, usages, and customs of Floating Island. The administration would remain as it was. All the functionaries would be retained in their functions, and all the employés in their employ.

  And how could it be otherwise?

  Hence it resulted that Commodore Ethel Simcoe remained in charge of the navigating branch, having the chief direction of the movements of Floating Island, conformably to the itineraries decided on by the council of notables. The same as regards Colonel Stewart and the command of the militia. There was no change in the observatory, and the King of Malecarlie continued to be astronomer. Nobody was discharged from the place he occupied at the ports, at the works, or in the municipal administration. Athanase Dorémus was not even relieved of his useless functions, although pupils obstinately declined to attend the classes in dancing and deportment.

  There was no change in the arrangements with the Quartette Party, who, to the end of the voyage, would continue to draw the unheard-of salary that had been promised at their engagement.

  “These people are extraordinary,” said Frascolin, when he learnt that matters had been arranged to the general satisfaction.

  “That is because they have plenty of money.” said Pinchinat.

  “Perhaps we might take advantage of this change of proprietors to withdraw from our engagement,” observed Sebastien Zorn, who could not shake off his absurd prejudice against Floating Island.

  “Withdraw!” exclaimed his Highness. “Let me see you try!”

  And with his left hand, opening and closing his fingers as if he were stopping the fourth string, he threatened to give the violoncellist one of those blows of the fist which attain a speed of eight metres and a half in a second.

  But a change had to take place in the position of the Governor. Cyrus Bikerstaff, being the direct representative of the Floating Island Company, considered that he ought to resign, and under the circumstances the determination appeared reasonable. His resignation was accepted, but in terms most flattering to the Governor. His two assistants, Barthélemy Ruge and Hubley Harcourt, half ruined by the failure of the company, in which they were large shareholders, intended to leave Floating Island by one of the next steamers.

  At the same time Cyrus Bikerstaff agreed to remain at the head of the municipal administration until the end of the voyage.

  Thus was accomplished without noise, without discussion, without trouble, without rivalry, this important financial transformation, and the business was so wisely, so quickly completed, that that very day the liquidator was able to re-embark, taking with him the signatures of the principal purchasers and the guarantee of the council of notables.

  As to the personage of such prodigious consideration known as Calistus Munbar, superintendent of the fine arts and amusements of the incomparable Pearl of the Pacific, he was simply confirmed in his office and emoluments, and, really, could a successor have been found to this irreplaceable man?

  “Come!” said Frascolin, “everything is for the best, the future of Floating Island is assured; there is nothing more to fear.”

  “We shall see!” murmured the obstinate violoncellist. Under these conditions, then, the marriage of Walter Tankerdon and Miss Coverley would take place. The two families would be united by pecuniary interests, which in America, as elsewhere, form the strongest social ties. What assurance of prosperity for the citizens of Floating Island! Now it belonged to the Milliardites, it would seem more independent than ever, more mistress of its destinies. Before, a cable had attached it to Madeleine Bay, in the United States—now the cable was broken! At present everything was flourishing. Is it necessary to insist on the happiness of the parties in question, to express the inexpressible, to depict the happiness that radiated around them? What appeared but a marriage of policy was really a love match. Both Walter and Di loved each other with an affection into which interest in no way entered. They both had the qualities which would assure them the happiest of lives. This Walter had a soul of gold, and Miss Di’s was of the same metal—figuratively speaking, be it understood, and not in the sense that their millions might justify. They were made for one another, and never was this somewha
t hackneyed phrase more strictly true. They counted the days, they counted the hours, which separated them from this longed-for date of the 27th of February. They regretted one thing, that Floating Island did not move towards the hundred and eightieth meridian, when, coming from the west, it would have to eliminate twenty-four hours from its calendar. Their happiness might be advanced a day. No! It was in sight of the New Hebrides that the ceremony was to take place, and all they could do was to resign themselves to it.

  But the ship laden with all the marvels of Europe had not yet arrived. Here was a wealth of things with which they would willingly have dispensed. What need had they of these quasi-regal magnificences? They mutually gave each other their love—what more could they give?

  But the families and the friends and the people of Floating Island desired that this ceremony should be surrounded with extraordinary brilliancy. And so glasses were obstinately levelled at the eastern horizon. Jem Tankerdon and Nat Coverley even offered a handsome prize to whoever first sighted this steamer, whose propeller could never propel fast enough for the public impatience.

  Meanwhile the programme of the festivities was carefully elaborated. It comprised games, receptions, the double ceremony at the Protestant temple and the Catholic cathedral, the gala evening at the town hall, the festival in the park. Calistus Munbar had an eye for everything, he was everywhere, he was indefatigable, it might even be said he was ruining his health. What would you have? His temperament drove him ahead, and you could no more stop him than you could stop an express train.

  The cantata was ready. Yvernès, the poet, and Sebastien Zorn, the musician, proved worthy of each other. This cantata would be sung by the choral masses of an orpheonic society founded expressly for the purpose. The effect would be very grand when it was heard in the square of the observatory, electrically lighted, at the fall of night. Then would come the appearance of the young couple before the officer of the civil power, and the religious marriage would be celebrated at midnight amid the fairy surroundings of Milliard City.