Chapter 5

So, then, all was explained by the submarine explosion of this torpedo.

Cyrus Harding could not be mistaken, as, during the war of the Union,

he had had occasion to try these terrible engines of destruction. It

was under the action of this cylinder, charged with some explosive

substance, nitro-glycerine, picrate, or some other material of the same

nature, that the water of the channel had been raised like a dome, the

bottom of the brig crushed in, and she had sunk instantly, the damage

done to her hull being so considerable that it was impossible to refloat

her. The “Speedy” had not been able to withstand a torpedo that would

have destroyed an ironclad as easily as a fishing-boat!

Yes! all was explained, everything--except the presence of the torpedo

in the waters of the channel!

“My friends, then,” said Cyrus Harding, “we can no longer be in doubt

as to the presence of a mysterious being, a castaway like us, perhaps,

abandoned on our island, and I say this in order that Ayrton may be

acquainted with all the strange events which have occurred during these

two years. Who this beneficent stranger is, whose intervention has, so

fortunately for us, been manifested on many occasions, I cannot imagine.

What his object can be in acting thus, in concealing himself after

rendering us so many services, I cannot understand: But his services are

not the less real, and are of such a nature that only a man possessed of

prodigious power, could render them. Ayrton is indebted to him as much

as we are, for, if it was the stranger who saved me from the waves after

the fall from the balloon, evidently it was he who wrote the document,

who placed the bottle in the channel, and who has made known to us the

situation of our companion. I will add that it was he who guided that

chest, provided with everything we wanted, and stranded it on Flotsam

Point; that it was he who lighted that fire on the heights of the

island, which permitted you to land; that it was he who fired that

bullet found in the body of the peccary; that it was he who plunged that

torpedo into the channel, which destroyed the brig; in a word, that all

those inexplicable events, for which we could not assign a reason, are

due to this mysterious being. Therefore, whoever he may be, whether

shipwrecked, or exiled on our island, we shall be ungrateful, if we

think ourselves freed from gratitude towards him. We have contracted a

debt, and I hope that we shall one day pay it.”

“You are right in speaking thus, my dear Cyrus,” replied Gideon Spilett.

“Yes, there is an almost all-powerful being, hidden in some part of the

island, and whose influence has been singularly useful to our colony.

I will add that the unknown appears to possess means of action which

border on the supernatural, if in the events of practical life the

supernatural were recognizable. Is it he who is in secret communication

with us by the well in Granite House, and has he thus a knowledge of all

our plans? Was it he who threw us that bottle, when the vessel made her

first cruise? Was it he who threw Top out of the lake, and killed the

dugong? Was it he, who as everything leads us to believe, saved you from

the waves, and that under circumstances in which any one else would not

have been able to act? If it was he, he possesses a power which renders

him master of the elements.”

The reporter’s reasoning was just, and every one felt it to be so.

“Yes,” rejoined Cyrus Harding, “if the intervention of a human being is

not more questionable for us, I agree that he has at his disposal means

of action beyond those possessed by humanity. There is a mystery still,

but if we discover the man, the mystery will be discovered also. The

question, then, is, ought we to respect the incognito of this generous

being, or ought we to do everything to find him out? What is your

opinion on the matter?”

“My opinion,” said Pencroft, “is that, whoever he may be, he is a brave

man, and he has my esteem!”

“Be it so,” answered Harding, “but that is not an answer, Pencroft.”

“Master,” then said Neb, “my idea is, that we may search as long as we

like for this gentleman whom you are talking about, but that we shall

not discover him till he pleases.”

“That’s not bad, what you say, Neb,” observed Pencroft.

“I am of Neb’s opinion,” said Gideon Spilett, “but that is no reason for

not attempting the adventure. Whether we find this mysterious being or

not, we shall at least have fulfilled our duty towards him.”

“And you, my boy, give us your opinion,” said the engineer, turning to

Herbert.

“Oh,” cried Herbert, his countenance full of animation, “how I should

like to thank him, he who saved you first, and who has now saved us!”

“Of course, my boy,” replied Pencroft, “so would I and all of us. I am

not inquisitive, but I would give one of my eyes to see this individual

face to face! It seems to me that he must be handsome, tall, strong,

with a splendid beard, radiant hair, and that he must be seated on

clouds, a great ball in his hands!”

“But, Pencroft,” answered Spilett, “you are describing a picture of the

Creator.”

“Possibly, Mr. Spilett,” replied the sailor, “but that is how I imagine

him!”

“And you, Ayrton?” asked the engineer.

“Captain Harding,” replied Ayrton, “I can give you no better advice in

this matter. Whatever you do will be best; when you wish me to join you

in your researches, I am ready to follow you.

“I thank you, Ayrton,” answered Cyrus Harding, “but I should like a more

direct answer to the question I put to you. You are our companion; you

have already endangered your life several times for us, and you, as

well as the rest, ought to be consulted in the matter of any important

decision. Speak, therefore.”

“Captain Harding,” replied Ayrton, “I think that we ought to do

everything to discover this unknown benefactor. Perhaps he is alone.

Perhaps he is suffering. Perhaps he has a life to be renewed. I, too,

as you said, have a debt of gratitude to pay him. It was he, it could be

only he who must have come to Tabor Island, who found there the wretch

you knew, and who made known to you that there was an unfortunate man

there to be saved. Therefore it is, thanks to him, that I have become a

man again. No, I will never forget him!”

“That is settled, then,” said Cyrus Harding. “We will begin our

researches as soon as possible. We will not leave a corner of the island

unexplored. We will search into its most secret recesses, and will

hope that our unknown friend will pardon us in consideration of our

intentions!”

For several days the colonists were actively employed in haymaking and

the harvest. Before putting their project of exploring the yet unknown

parts of the island into execution, they wished to get all possible work

finished. It was also the time for collecting the various vegetables

from the Tabor Island plants. All was stowed away, and happily there was

no want of room in Granite House, in which they might have housed all

the treasures of the island. The products of the colony were there,

methodically arranged, and in a safe place, as may be believed,

sheltered as much from animals as from man.

There was no fear of damp in the middle of that thick mass of granite.

Many natural excavations situated in the upper passage were enlarged

either by pick-axe or mine, and Granite House thus became a general

warehouse, containing all the provisions, arms, tools, and spare

utensils--in a word, all the stores of the colony.

As to the guns obtained from the brig, they were pretty pieces of

ordnance, which, at Pencroft’s entreaty, were hoisted by means of tackle

and pulleys, right up into Granite House; embrasures were made between

the windows, and the shining muzzles of the guns could soon be seen

through the granite cliff. From this height they commanded all Union

Bay. It was like a little Gibraltar, and any vessel anchored off the

islet would inevitably be exposed to the fire of this aerial battery.

“Captain,” said Pencroft one day, it was the 8th of November, “now that

our fortifications are finished, it would be a good thing if we tried

the range of our guns.”

“Do you think that is useful?” asked the engineer.

“It is more than useful, it is necessary! Without that how are we to

know to what distance we can send one of those pretty shot with which we

are provided?”

“Try them, Pencroft,” replied the engineer. “However, I think that in

making the experiment, we ought to employ, not the ordinary powder,

the supply of which, I think, should remain untouched, but the pyroxyle

which will never fail us.”

“Can the cannon support the shock of the pyroxyle?” asked the reporter,

who was not less anxious than Pencroft to try the artillery of Granite

House.

“I believe so. However,” added the engineer, “we will be prudent.” The

engineer was right in thinking that the guns were of excellent make.

Made of forged steel, and breech-loaders, they ought consequently to be

able to bear a considerable charge, and also have an enormous range.

In fact, as regards practical effect, the transit described by the ball

ought to be as extended as possible, and this tension could only be

obtained under the condition that the projectile should be impelled with

a very great initial velocity.

“Now,” said Harding to his companions, “the initial velocity is in

proportion to the quantity of powder used. In the fabrication of

these pieces, everything depends on employing a metal with the highest

possible power of resistance, and steel is incontestably that metal of

all others which resists the best. I have, therefore, reason to believe

that our guns will bear without risk the expansion of the pyroxyle gas,

and will give excellent results.”

“We shall be a great deal more certain of that when we have tried them!”

answered Pencroft.

It is unnecessary to say that the four cannons were in perfect order.

Since they had been taken from the water, the sailor had bestowed great

care upon them. How many hours he had spent, in rubbing, greasing, and

polishing them, and in cleaning the mechanism! And now the pieces were

as brilliant as if they had been on board a frigate of the United States

Navy.

On this day, therefore, in presence of all the members of the colony,

including Master Jup and Top, the four cannon were successively tried.

They were charged with pyroxyle, taking into consideration its explosive

power, which, as has been said, is four times that of ordinary powder:

the projectile to be fired was cylindroconic.

Pencroft, holding the end of the quick-match, stood ready to fire.

At Harding’s signal, he fired. The shot, passing over the islet,

fell into the sea at a distance which could not be calculated with

exactitude.

The second gun was pointed at the rocks at the end of Flotsam Point, and

the shot striking a sharp rock nearly three miles from Granite House,

made it fly into splinters. It was Herbert who had pointed this gun and

fired it, and very proud he was of his first shot. Pencroft only was

prouder than he! Such a shot, the honor of which belonged to his dear

boy.

The third shot, aimed this time at the downs forming the upper side

of Union Bay, struck the sand at a distance of four miles, then having

ricocheted: was lost in the sea in a cloud of spray.

For the fourth piece Cyrus Harding slightly increased the charge, so

as to try its extreme range. Then, all standing aside for fear of its

bursting, the match was lighted by means of a long cord.

A tremendous report was heard, but the piece had held good, and the

colonists rushing to the windows, saw the shot graze the rocks of

Mandible Cape, nearly five miles from Granite House, and disappear in

Shark Gulf.

“Well, captain,” exclaimed Pencroft, whose cheers might have rivaled the

reports themselves, “what do you say of our battery? All the pirates in

the Pacific have only to present themselves before Granite House! Not

one can land there now without our permission!”

“Believe me, Pencroft,” replied the engineer, “it would be better not to

have to make the experiment.”

“Well,” said the sailor, “what ought to be done with regard to those

six villains who are roaming about the island? Are we to leave them

to overrun our forests, our fields, our plantations? These pirates are

regular jaguars, and it seems to me we ought not to hesitate to treat

them as such! What do you think, Ayrton?” added Pencroft, turning to his

companion.

Ayrton hesitated at first to reply, and Cyrus Harding regretted that

Pencroft had so thoughtlessly put this question. And he was much moved

when Ayrton replied in a humble tone,--

“I have been one of those jaguars, Mr. Pencroft. I have no right to

speak.”

And with a slow step he walked away.

Pencroft understood.

“What a brute I am!” he exclaimed. “Poor Ayrton! He has as much right to

speak here as any one!”

“Yes,” said Gideon Spilett, “but his reserve does him honor, and it is

right to respect the feeling which he has about his sad past.”

“Certainly, Mr. Spilett,” answered the sailor, “and there is no fear of

my doing so again. I would rather bite my tongue off than cause Ayrton

any pain! But to return to the question. It seems to me that these

ruffians have no right to any pity, and that we ought to rid the island

of them as soon as possible.”

“Is that your opinion, Pencroft?” asked the engineer.

“Quite my opinion.”

“And before hunting them mercilessly, you would not wait until they had

committed some fresh act of hostility against us?”

“Isn’t what they have done already enough?” asked Pencroft, who did not

understand these scruples.

“They may adopt other sentiments!” said Harding, “and perhaps repent.”

“They repent!” exclaimed the sailor, shrugging his shoulders.

“Pencroft, think of Ayrton!” said Herbert, taking the sailor’s hand. “He

became an honest man again!”

Pencroft looked at his companions one after the other. He had never

thought of his proposal being met with any objection. His rough nature

could not allow that they ought to come to terms with the rascals who

had landed on the island with Bob Harvey’s accomplices, the murderers of

the crew of the “Speedy,” and he looked upon them as wild beasts which

ought to be destroyed without delay and without remorse.

“Come!” said be. “Everybody is against me! You wish to be generous to

those villains! Very well; I hope we mayn’t repent it!”

“What danger shall we run,” said Herbert, “if we take care to be always

on our guard?”

“Hum!” observed the reporter, who had not given any decided opinion.

“They are six and well armed. If they each lay hid in a corner, and each

fired at one of us, they would soon be masters of the colony!”

“Why have they not done so?” said Herbert. “No doubt because it was not

their interest to do it. Besides, we are six also.”

“Well, well!” replied Pencroft, whom no reasoning could have convinced.

“Let us leave these good people to do what they like, and don’t think

anything more about them!”

“Come, Pencroft,” said Neb, “don’t make yourself out so bad as all that!

Suppose one of these unfortunate men were here before you, within good

range of your guns, you would not fire.”

“I would fire on him as I would on a mad dog, Neb,” replied Pencroft

coldly.

“Pencroft,” said the engineer, “you have always shown much deference to

my advice; will you, in this matter, yield to me?”

“I will do as you please, Captain Harding,” answered the sailor, who was

not at all convinced.

“Very well, wait, and we will not attack them unless we are attacked

first.”

Thus their behavior towards the pirates was agreed upon, although

Pencroft augured nothing good from it. They were not to attack them, but

were to be on their guard. After all, the island was large and fertile.

If any sentiment of honesty yet remained in the bottom of their hearts,

these wretches might perhaps be reclaimed. Was it not their interest in

the situation in which they found themselves to begin a new life? At

any rate, for humanity’s sake alone, it would be right to wait. The

colonists would no longer as before, be able to go and come without

fear. Hitherto they had only wild beasts to guard against, and now six

convicts of the worst description, perhaps, were roaming over their

island. It was serious, certainly, and to less brave men, it would have

been security lost! No matter! At present, the colonists had reason on

their side against Pencroft. Would they be right in the future? That

remained to be seen.