by Jules Verne
Chapter 15
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 thebeach at the mouth of the Mercy.
Cyrus Harding and Neb, who had become very uneasy at the bad weather andthe prolonged absence of their companions, had climbed at daybreak tothe plateau of Prospect Heights, and they had at last caught sight ofthe 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 hishands and shouting, "Oh! my master!" A more touching pantomime than thefinest 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 TaborIsland, or at any rate that the unfortunate man had refused to leave hisisland and change one prison for another.
Indeed Pencroft, Gideon Spilett, and Herbert were alone on the deck ofthe "Bonadventure."
The moment the vessel touched, the engineer and Neb were waiting onthe 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! Didyou meet with any accident?"
"No," replied Gideon Spilett; "on the contrary, everything wentwonderfully 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 onlydwelling in the island had long been abandoned; how at last a castawayhad been captured, who appeared no longer to belong to the humanspecies.
"And that's just the point," added Pencroft, "I don't know if we havedone 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 fewmonths ago the wretched creature was a man like you and me. And whoknows what will become of the survivor of us after a long solitude onthis island? It is a great misfortune to be alone, my friends; and itmust be believed that solitude can quickly destroy reason, since youhave found this poor creature in such a state!"
"But, captain," asked Herbert, "what leads you to think that thebrutishness of the unfortunate man began only a few months back?"
"Because the document we found had been recently written," answered theengineer, "and the castaway alone can have written it."
"Always supposing," observed Gideon Spilett, "that it had not beenwritten 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," repliedHarding, "and it mentioned only one."
Herbert then in a few words related the incidents of the voyage, anddwelt on the curious fact of the sort of passing gleam in the prisoner'smind, when for an instant in the height of the storm he had become asailor.
"Well, Herbert," replied the engineer, "you are right to attach greatimportance to this fact. The unfortunate man cannot be incurable, anddespair 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 andthe great astonishment of Neb, was then brought from the cabin which heoccupied in the fore part of the "Bonadventure"; when once on land hemanifested a wish to run away.
But Cyrus Harding approaching, placed his hand on his shoulder with agesture full of authority, and looked at him with infinite tenderness.Immediately the unhappy man, submitting to a superior will, graduallybecame calm, his eyes fell, his head bent, and he made no moreresistance.
"Poor fellow!" murmured the engineer.
Cyrus Harding had attentively observed him. To judge by his appearancethis miserable being had no longer anything human about him, andyet Harding, as had the reporter already, observed in his look anindefinable trace of intelligence.
It was decided that the castaway, or rather the stranger as he wasthenceforth termed by his companions, should live in one of the roomsof Granite House, from which, however, he could not escape. He was ledthere without difficulty, and with careful attention, it might, perhaps,be hoped that some day he would be a companion to the settlers inLincoln Island.
Cyrus Harding, during breakfast, which Neb had hastened to prepare,as the reporter, Herbert, and Pencroft were dying of hunger, heard indetail all the incidents which had marked the voyage of exploration tothe islet. He agreed with his friends on this point, that the strangermust be either English or American, the name Britannia leading themto suppose this, and, besides, through the bushy beard, and underthe shaggy, matted hair, the engineer thought he could recognize thecharacteristic features of the Anglo-Saxon.
"But, by the bye," said Gideon Spilett, addressing Herbert, "you nevertold us how you met this savage, and we know nothing, except that youwould have been strangled, if we had not happened to come up in time tohelp you!"
"Upon my word," answered Herbert, "it is rather difficult to say how ithappened. I was, I think, occupied in collecting my plants, when I hearda noise like an avalanche falling from a very tall tree. I scarcelyhad time to look round. This unfortunate man, who was without doubtconcealed in a tree, rushed upon me in less time than I take to tell youabout 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 fromyour search, and we should not have had a new companion."
"You hope, then, Cyrus, to succeed in reforming the man?" asked thereporter.
"Yes," replied the engineer.
Breakfast over, Harding and his companions left Granite House andreturned 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 thestranger.
The capture of pigs, made on the islet, was looked upon as being veryprofitable to Lincoln Island, and the animals were led to the sty, wherethey soon became at home.
The two barrels, containing the powder and shot, as well as the boxof caps, were very welcome. It was agreed to establish a smallpowder-magazine, either outside Granite House or in the Upper Cavern,where there would be no fear of explosion. However, the use of pyroxylewas to be continued, for this substance giving excellent results, therewas 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 onthe sand, and that works her. She is a famous craft, you see, and shebehaved 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 theeast winds, I think that the 'Bonadventure' would suffer much from thesurf."
"Well, where would you put her, Pencroft?"
"In Port Balloon," replied the sailor. "That little creek, shut in byrocks, seems to me to be just the harbor we want."
"Is it not rather far?"
"Pooh! it is not more than three miles from Granite House, and we ha
ve afine straight road to take us there!"
"Do it then, Pencroft, and take your 'Bonadventure' there," repliedthe engineer, "and yet I would rather have her under our more immediateprotection. When we have time, we must make a little harbor for her."
"Famous!" exclaimed Pencroft. "A harbor with a lighthouse, a pier, anddock! 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 ourwork."
Herbert and the sailor then re-embarked on board the "Bonadventure,"the anchor was weighed, the sail hoisted, and the wind drove her rapidlytowards Claw Cape. Two hours after, she was reposing on the tranquilwaters of Port Balloon.
During the first days passed by the stranger in Granite House, had healready given them reason to think that his savage nature was becomingtamed? Did a brighter light burn in the depths of that obscured mind? Inshort, was the soul returning to the body?
Yes, to a certainty, and to such a degree, that Cyrus Harding and thereporter wondered if the reason of the unfortunate man had ever beentotally extinguished. At first, accustomed to the open air, to theunrestrained liberty which he had enjoyed on Tabor Island, the strangermanifested a sullen fury, and it was feared that he might throwhimself onto the beach, out of one of the windows of Granite House.But gradually he became calmer, and more freedom was allowed to hismovements.
They had reason to hope, and to hope much. Already, forgetting hiscarnivorous instincts, the stranger accepted a less bestial nourishmentthan that on which he fed on the islet, and cooked meat did not producein him the same sentiment of repulsion which he had showed on boardthe "Bonadventure." Cyrus Harding had profited by a moment when he wassleeping, to cut his hair and matted beard, which formed a sort ofmane and gave him such a savage aspect. He had also been clothed moresuitably, after having got rid of the rag which covered him. The resultwas that, thanks to these attentions, the stranger resumed a morehuman appearance, and it even seemed as if his eyes had become milder.Certainly, when formerly lighted up by intelligence, this man's facemust have had a sort of beauty.
Every day, Harding imposed on himself the task of passing some hoursin his company. He came and worked near him, and occupied himself indifferent things, so as to fix his attention. A spark, indeed, would besufficient to reillumine that soul, a recollection crossing that brainto recall reason. That had been seen, during the storm, on board the"Bonadventure!" The engineer did not neglect either to speak aloud, soas to penetrate at the same time by the organs of hearing and sight thedepths of that torpid intelligence. Sometimes one of his companions,sometimes another, sometimes all joined him. They spoke most often ofthings 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, aproof that he suffered mentally, for his face could not be mistaken;but he did not speak, although at different times, however, they almostthought that words were about to issue from his lips. At all events, thepoor creature was quite quiet and sad!
But was not his calm only apparent? Was not his sadness only the resultof his seclusion? Nothing could yet be ascertained. Seeing only certainobjects 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 natureshould gradually improve; but was he penetrated with the sense of a newlife? or rather, to employ a word which would be exactly applicableto him, was he not becoming tamed, like an animal in company with hismaster? This was an important question, which Cyrus Harding was anxiousto answer, and yet he did not wish to treat his invalid roughly! Wouldhe ever be a convalescent?
How the engineer observed him every moment! How he was on the watch forhis 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 cureundertaken by Harding. They aided him also in this work of humanity, andall, except perhaps the incredulous Pencroft, soon shared both his hopeand his faith.
The calm of the stranger was deep, as has been said, and he even showeda sort of attachment for the engineer, whose influence he evidentlyfelt. Cyrus Harding resolved then to try him, by transporting himto another scene, from that ocean which formerly his eyes had beenaccustomed to contemplate, to the border of the forest, which mightperhaps recall those where so many years of his life had been passed!
"But," said Gideon Spilett, "can we hope that he will not escape, ifonce set at liberty?"
"The experiment must be tried," replied the engineer.
"Well!" said Pencroft. "When that fellow is outside, and feels the freshair, 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 TaborIsland had been a prisoner in Granite House for nine days. It waswarm, and a bright sun darted its rays on the island. Cyrus Harding andPencroft went to the room occupied by the stranger, who was found lyingnear 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, andhe followed him, while the sailor marched behind them, little confidentas to the result of the experiment.
Arrived at the door, Harding and Pencroft made him take his place inthe lift, while Neb, Herbert, and Gideon Spilett waited for them beforeGranite House. The lift descended, and in a few moments all were unitedon the beach.
The settlers went a short distance from the stranger, so as to leave himat liberty.
He then made a few steps toward the sea, and his look brightened withextreme animation, but he did not make the slightest attempt to escape.He was gazing at the little waves which, broken by the islet, rippled onthe sand.
"This is only the sea," observed Gideon Spilett, "and possibly it doesnot inspire him with any wish to escape!"
"Yes," replied Harding, "we must take him to the plateau, on the borderof the forest. There the experiment will be more conclusive."
"Besides, he could not run away," said Neb, "since the bridge israised."
"Oh!" said Pencroft, "that isn't a man to be troubled by a stream likeCreek Glycerine! He could cross it directly, at a single bound!"
"We shall soon see," Harding contented himself with replying, his eyesnot quitting those of his patient.
The latter was then led towards the mouth of the Mercy, and all climbingthe left bank of the river, reached Prospect Heights.
Arrived at the spot on which grew the first beautiful trees of theforest, their foliage slightly agitated by the breeze, the strangerappeared greedily to drink in the penetrating odor which filled theatmosphere, and a long sigh escaped from his chest.
The settlers kept behind him, ready to seize him if he made any movementto escape!
And, indeed, the poor creature was on the point of springing into thecreek which separated him from the forest, and his legs were bent for aninstant as if for a spring, but almost immediately he stepped back, halfsank down, and a large tear fell from his eyes.
"Ah!" exclaimed Cyrus Harding, "you have become a man again, for you canweep!"