by Jules Verne
Chapter 10
Of the convicts, the dangers which menaced Granite House, the ruinswith which the plateau was covered, the colonists thought no longer.Herbert's critical state outweighed all other considerations. Would theremoval prove fatal to him by causing some internal injury? The reportercould not affirm it, but he and his companions almost despaired ofthe result. The cart was brought to the bend of the river. There somebranches, disposed as a liner, received the mattress on which lay theunconscious Herbert. Ten minutes after, Cyrus Harding, Spilett, andPencroft were at the foot of the cliff, leaving Neb to take the carton to the plateau of Prospect Heights. The lift was put in motion, andHerbert was soon stretched on his bed in Granite House.
What cares were lavished on him to bring him back to life! He smiled fora moment on finding himself in his room, but could scarcely even murmura few words, so great was his weakness. Gideon Spilett examined hiswounds. He feared to find them reopened, having been imperfectly healed.There was nothing of the sort. From whence, then, came this prostration?why was Herbert so much worse? The lad then fell into a kind of feverishsleep, and the reporter and Pencroft remained near the bed. During thistime, Harding told Neb all that had happened at the corral, and Nebrecounted to his master the events of which the plateau had just beenthe theater.
It was only during the preceding night that the convicts had appeared onthe edge of the forest, at the approaches to Creek Glycerine. Neb, whowas watching near the poultry-yard, had not hesitated to fire at one ofthe pirates, who was about to cross the stream; but in the darkness hecould not tell whether the man had been hit or not. At any rate, it wasnot enough to frighten away the band, and Neb had only just time to getup to Granite House, where at least he was in safety.
But what was he to do there? How prevent the devastations with which theconvicts threatened the plateau? Had Neb any means by which to warnhis master? And, besides, in what situation were the inhabitants of thecorral themselves? Cyrus Harding and his companions had left on the 11thof November, and it was now the 29th. It was, therefore, nineteen dayssince Neb had had other news than that brought by Top--disastrous news:Ayrton disappeared, Herbert severely wounded, the engineer, reporter,and sailor, as it were, imprisoned in the corral!
What was he to do? asked poor Neb. Personally he had nothing tofear, for the convicts could not reach him in Granite House. But thebuildings, the plantations, all their arrangements at the mercy of thepirates! Would it not be best to let Cyrus Harding judge of what heought to do, and to warn him, at least, of the danger which threatenedhim?
Neb then thought of employing Jup, and confiding a note to him. He knewthe orang's great intelligence, which had been often put to the proof.Jup understood the word corral, which had been frequently pronouncedbefore him, and it may be remembered, too, that he had often driventhe cart thither in company with Pencroft. Day had not yet dawned. Theactive orang would know how to pass unperceived through the woods, ofwhich the convicts, besides, would think he was a native.
Neb did not hesitate. He wrote the note, he tied it to Jup's neck, hebrought the ape to the door of Granite House, from which he let down along cord to the ground; then, several times he repeated these words,--
"Jup Jup! corral, corral!"
The creature understood, seized the cord, glided rapidly down the beach,and disappeared in the darkness without the convicts' attention havingbeen in the least excited.
"You did well, Neb," said Harding, "but perhaps in not warning us youwould have done still better!"
And, in speaking thus, Cyrus Harding thought of Herbert, whose recoverythe removal had so seriously checked.
Neb ended his account. The convicts had not appeared at all on thebeach. Not knowing the number of the island's inhabitants, they mightsuppose that Granite House was defended by a large party. They must haveremembered that during the attack by the brig numerous shot had beenfired both from the lower and upper rocks, and no doubt they did notwish to expose themselves. But the plateau of Prospect Heights wasopen to them, and not covered by the fire of Granite House. They gavethemselves up, therefore, to their instinct of destruction,--plundering,burning, devastating everything,--and only retiring half an hour beforethe arrival of the colonists, whom they believed still confined in thecorral.
On their retreat, Neb hurried out. He climbed the plateau at the riskof being perceived and fired at, tried to extinguish the fire which wasconsuming the buildings of the poultry-yard, and had struggled, thoughin vain, against it until the cart appeared at the edge of the wood.
Such had been these serious events. The presence of the convictsconstituted a permanent source of danger to the settlers in LincolnIsland, until then so happy, and who might now expect still greatermisfortunes.
Spilett remained in Granite House with Herbert and Pencroft, whileCyrus Harding, accompanied by Neb, proceeded to judge for himself of theextent of the disaster.
It was fortunate that the convicts had not advanced to the foot ofGranite House. The workshop at the Chimneys would in that case nothave escaped destruction. But after all, this evil would have been moreeasily reparable than the ruins accumulated on the plateau of ProspectHeights. Harding and Neb proceeded towards the Mercy, and ascended itsleft bank without meeting with any trace of the convicts; nor on theother side of the river, in the depths of the wood, could they perceiveany suspicious indications.
Besides, it might be supposed that in all probability either theconvicts knew of the return of the settlers to Granite House, by havingseen them pass on the road from the corral, or, after the devastation ofthe plateau, they had penetrated into Jacamar Wood, following the courseof the Mercy, and were thus ignorant of their return.
In the former case, they must have returned towards the corral, nowwithout defenders, and which contained valuable stores.
In the latter, they must have regained their encampment, and would waiton opportunity to recommence the attack.
It was, therefore, possible to prevent them, but any enterprise to clearthe island was now rendered difficult by reason of Herbert's condition.Indeed, their whole force would have been barely sufficient to cope withthe convicts, and just now no one could leave Granite House.
The engineer and Neb arrived on the plateau. Desolation reignedeverywhere. The fields had been trampled over; the ears of wheat, whichwere nearly full-grown, lay on the ground. The other plantations had notsuffered less.
The kitchen-garden was destroyed. Happily, Granite House possessed astore of seed which would enable them to repair these misfortunes.
As to the wall and buildings of the poultry-yard and the onagers stable,the fire had destroyed all. A few terrified creatures roamed over theplateau. The birds, which during the fire had taken refuge on the watersof the lake, had already returned to their accustomed spot, and weredabbling on the banks. Everything would have to be reconstructed.
Cyrus Harding's face, which was paler than usual, expressed an internalanger which he commanded with difficulty, but he did not utter a word.Once more he looked at his devastated fields, and at the smoke whichstill rose from the ruins, then he returned to Granite House.
The following days were the saddest of any that the colonists had passedon the island! Herbert's weakness visibly increased. It appeared thata more serious malady, the consequence of the profound physiologicaldisturbance he had gone through, threatened to declare itself, andGideon Spilett feared such an aggravation of his condition that he wouldbe powerless to fight against it!
In fact, Herbert remained in an almost continuous state of drowsiness,and symptoms of delirium began to manifest themselves. Refreshing drinkswere the only remedies at the colonists' disposal. The fever was notas yet very high, but it soon appeared that it would probably recur atregular intervals. Gideon Spilett first recognized this on the 6th ofDecember.
The poor boy, whose fingers, nose, and ears had become extremelypale, was at first seized with slight shiverings, horripilations, andtremblings. His pulse was weak and irregular, his skin dry, hi
s thirstintense. To this soon succeeded a hot fit; his face became flushed; hisskin reddened; his pulse quick; then a profuse perspiration broke outafter which the fever seemed to diminish. The attack had lasted nearlyfive hours.
Gideon Spilett had not left Herbert, who, it was only too certain, wasnow seized by an intermittent fever, and this fever must be cured at anycost before it should assume a more serious aspect.
"And in order to cure it," said Spilett to Cyrus Harding, "we need afebrifuge."
"A febrifuge--" answered the engineer. "We have neither Peruvian bark,nor sulphate of quinine."
"No," said Gideon Spilett, "but there are willows on the border ofthe lake, and the bark of the willow might, perhaps, prove to be asubstitute for quinine."
"Let us try it without losing a moment," replied Cyrus Harding.
The bark of the willow has, indeed, been justly considered as asuccedaneum for Peruvian bark, as has also that of the horse-chestnuttree, the leaf of the holly, the snake-root, etc. It was evidentlynecessary to make trial of this substance, although not so valuable asPeruvian bark, and to employ it in its natural state, since they had nomeans for extracting its essence.
Cyrus Harding went himself to cut from the trunk of a species of blackwillow, a few pieces of bark; he brought them back to Granite House, andreduced them to a powder, which was administered that same evening toHerbert.
The night passed without any important change. Herbert was somewhatdelirious, but the fever did not reappear in the night, and did notreturn either during the following day.
Pencroft again began to hope. Gideon Spilett said nothing. It might bethat the fever was not quotidian, but tertian, and that it would returnnext day. Therefore, he awaited the next day with the greatest anxiety.
It might have been remarked besides that during this period Herbertremained utterly prostrate, his head weak and giddy. Another symptomalarmed the reporter to the highest degree. Herbert's liver becamecongested, and soon a more intense delirium showed that his brain wasalso affected.
Gideon Spilett was overwhelmed by this new complication. He took theengineer aside.
"It is a malignant fever," said he.
"A malignant fever!" cried Harding. "You are mistaken, Spilett. Amalignant fever does not declare itself spontaneously; its germ mustpreviously have existed."
"I am not mistaken," replied the reporter. "Herbert no doubt contractedthe germ of this fever in the marshes of the island. He has already hadone attack; should a second come on and should we not be able to preventa third, he is lost."
"But the willow bark?"
"That is insufficient," answered the reporter, "and the third attack ofa malignant fever, which is not arrested by means of quinine, is alwaysfatal."
Fortunately, Pencroft heard nothing of this conversation or he wouldhave gone mad.
It may be imagined what anxiety the engineer and the reporter sufferedduring the day of the 7th of December and the following night.
Towards the middle of the day the second attack came on. The crisis wasterrible. Herbert felt himself sinking. He stretched his arms towardsCyrus Harding, towards Spilett, towards Pencroft. He was so young todie! The scene was heart-rending. They were obliged to send Pencroftaway.
The fit lasted five hours. It was evident that Herbert could not survivea third.
The night was frightful. In his delirium Herbert uttered words whichwent to the hearts of his companions. He struggled with the convicts,he called to Ayrton, he poured forth entreaties to that mysteriousbeing,--that powerful unknown protector,--whose image was stamped uponhis mind; then he again fell into a deep exhaustion which completelyprostrated him. Several times Gideon Spilett thought that the poor boywas dead.
The next day, the 8th of December, was but a succession of the faintingfits. Herbert's thin hands clutched the sheets. They had administeredfurther doses of pounded bark, but the reporter expected no result fromit.
"If before tomorrow morning we have not given him a more energeticfebrifuge," said the reporter, "Herbert will be dead."
Night arrived--the last night, it was too much to be feared, of thegood, brave, intelligent boy, so far in advance of his years, and whowas loved by all as their own child. The only remedy which existedagainst this terrible malignant fever, the only specific which couldovercome it, was not to be found in Lincoln Island.
During the night of the 8th of December, Herbert was seized by a moreviolent delirium. His liver was fearfully congested, his brain affected,and already it was impossible for him to recognize any one.
Would he live until the next day, until that third attack whichmust infallibly carry him off? It was not probable. His strength wasexhausted, and in the intervals of fever he lay as one dead.
Towards three o'clock in the morning Herbert uttered a piercing cry.He seemed to be torn by a supreme convulsion. Neb, who was near him,terrified, ran into the next room where his companions were watching.
Top, at that moment, barked in a strange manner.
All rushed in immediately and managed to restrain the dying boy, who wasendeavoring to throw himself out of his bed, while Spilett, taking hisarm, felt his pulse gradually quicken.
It was five in the morning. The rays of the rising sun began to shine inat the windows of Granite House. It promised to be a fine day, and thisday was to be poor Herbert's last!
A ray glanced on the table placed near the bed.
Suddenly Pencroft, uttering a cry, pointed to the table.
On it lay a little oblong box, of which the cover bore thesewords:--"SULPHATE OF QUININE."