Part 37

The boat was no more than two cable lengths from the islet when it stopped. The helmsman, standing, was seeking the best point at which he could land. In an instant, two gunshots rang out. A little smoke curled above the rocks of the islet. The helmsman and the leadsman fell backward into the boat. Ayrton's and Pencroff's bullets had struck them both at the same moment.

Almost immediately, a more violent detonation was heard, a brilliant jet of steam burst from the flanks of the brig, and a cannonball, striking the top of the rocks that sheltered Ayrton and Pencroff, shattered them; but the two marksmen had not been touched.

Horrible imprecations had escaped from the boat, which at once resumed its course. The helmsman was immediately replaced by one of his comrades, and the oars plunged briskly into the water.

However, instead of returning aboard, as might have been thought, the boat skirted the shore of the islet, so as to round it by its southern point. The pirates pulled with all their might to get out of range of the bullets.

They thus advanced until they were five cable lengths from the re-entrant part of the coast that ended at the wreck point, and, having rounded it in a semi-circular line, still protected by the brig's guns, they headed toward the mouth of the Mercy.

Their evident intention was thus to penetrate into the channel and take the colonists in the rear, who were posted on the islet, so that these, whatever their number, should be placed between the fire of the boat and the fire of the brig, and find themselves in a very disadvantageous position. A quarter of an hour passed thus, while the boat advanced in that direction. Absolute silence, complete calm in the air and on the waters.

Pencroff and Ayrton, although they understood that they risked being outflanked, had not left their post, either because they did not yet wish to show themselves to the assailants and expose themselves to the guns of the Speedy, or because they counted on Nab and Gideon Spilett, watching at the mouth of the river, and on Cyrus Smith and Harbert, hidden among the rocks of the chimneys.

Twenty minutes after the first shots, the boat was abreast of the Mercy at less than two cable lengths. As the tide began to rise with its usual violence, caused by the narrowness of the strait, the convicts felt themselves carried toward the river, and it was only by dint of rowing that they kept in the middle of the channel. But, as they passed within good range of the mouth of the Mercy, two bullets saluted them in passing, and two more of their men were laid low in the boat.

Nab and Spilett had not missed their shot. Immediately the brig sent a second cannonball at the post betrayed by the smoke of the firearms, but with no other result than to chip some rocks. At that moment, the boat no longer held but three able men. Taken by the current, it shot through the channel with the speed of an arrow, passed before Cyrus Smith and Harbert, who, judging it not within good range, remained silent; then, rounding the northern point of the islet with the two oars that remained to it, it prepared to regain the brig.

Thus far the colonists had nothing to complain of.

The engagement was going badly for their adversaries. These already counted four men grievously wounded, perhaps dead; they, on the contrary, unwounded, had not lost a single bullet. If the pirates continued to attack them in this fashion, if they renewed some attempt at landing by means of the boat, they could be destroyed one by one.

One may understand how advantageous were the dispositions taken by the engineer. The pirates could believe that they had to deal with numerous and well-armed opponents, whom they would not easily overcome. Half an hour elapsed before the boat, which had to struggle against the offshore current, rejoined the Speedy. Dreadful cries resounded when it returned aboard with the wounded, and three or four cannon shots were fired, which could have no result.

But then other convicts, drunk with anger and perhaps still with the libations of the previous evening, threw themselves into the boat to the number of a dozen. A second boat was likewise launched to sea, in which eight men took their places, and while the first headed straight for the islet to flush out the colonists, the second maneuvered so as to force the entrance of the Mercy.

The situation was evidently becoming very perilous for Pencroff and Ayrton, and they understood that they must regain the open shore.

However, they waited until the first boat was within good range, and two bullets, adroitly aimed, again brought disorder to its crew. Then, Pencroff and Ayrton, abandoning their post, not without having sustained a dozen rifle shots, crossed the islet with all the speed of their legs, threw themselves into the pirogue, crossed the channel at the moment when the second boat reached its southern point, and ran to shelter among the chimneys; they had scarcely rejoined Cyrus Smith and Harbert when the islet was invaded and the pirates of the first boat were scouring it in every direction.

Almost at the same instant, new detonations burst from the post of the Mercy, which the second boat had rapidly approached. Two, out of eight, of the men who manned it were mortally struck by Gideon Spilett and Nab, and the boat itself, irresistibly carried onto the reefs, broke up at the mouth of the Mercy.

But the six survivors, raising their weapons above their heads to keep them from the water, managed to gain a footing on the right bank of the river. Then, seeing themselves too closely exposed to the fire of the post, they fled at full speed in the direction of the wreck point, out of range of the bullets.

The present situation was therefore this: on the islet, twelve convicts, several wounded no doubt, but still having a boat at their disposal; on the island, six landed men, but who were unable to reach Granite House, for they could not cross the river, the bridges of which were raised.

"That's going well!" said Pencroff, as he dashed among the chimneys. "That's going well, Mr. Cyrus! What do you think of it?"

"I think," replied the engineer, "that the fight is going to take a new form, for one cannot suppose that these convicts are stupid enough to continue it under conditions so unfavorable to them!"

"They won't cross the channel anyway," said the sailor. "Ayrton's and Mr. Spilett's rifles are there to prevent them. You know well they carry over a mile!"

"No doubt," replied Harbert, "but what could two rifles do against the brig's cannon?"

"Eh! The brig isn't in the channel yet, I imagine!" answered Pencroff.

"And if it comes?" said Cyrus Smith.

"It's impossible, for it would risk running aground and being lost!"

"That is possible," then said Ayrton. "The convicts may take advantage of high water to enter the channel, even at the cost of grounding at low tide, and then, under the fire of their cannon, our posts will no longer be tenable."

"By a thousand hellish devils!" cried Pencroff. "It really seems the rascals are preparing to weigh anchor!"

"Perhaps we shall be forced to take refuge in Granite House?" observed Harbert.

"Wait!" replied Cyrus Smith.

"But Nab and Mr. Spilett?..." said Pencroff.

"They will know how to rejoin us in good time. Be ready, Ayrton. It is your rifle and Spilett's that must speak now."

It was but too true! The Speedy was beginning to veer upon its anchor and manifested the intention of approaching the islet. The sea was still to rise for an hour and a half, and, the flood current being already broken, it would be easy for the brig to maneuver. But, as to entering the channel, Pencroff, contrary to Ayrton's opinion, could not admit that it would dare attempt it.

Meanwhile, the pirates who occupied the islet had gradually moved toward the opposite shore, and they were no longer separated from the land but by the channel. Armed merely with rifles, they could do no harm to the colonists, hidden either among the chimneys or at the mouth of the Mercy; but, not knowing them to be furnished with long-range rifles, they did not believe themselves exposed in their persons either. It was therefore openly that they paced the islet and traversed its edge.

Their illusion was of short duration. Ayrton's and Gideon Spilett's rifles spoke then and no doubt said disagreeable things to two of these convicts, for they fell backward.

It was a general rout. The ten others did not even take time to pick up their wounded or dead companions; they hastily retreated to the other side of the islet, threw themselves into the boat that had brought them, and regained the shore by dint of rowing.

"Eight the fewer!" cried Pencroff. "Truly, one would say Mr. Spilett and Ayrton have agreed to act together!"

"Gentlemen," replied Ayrton, reloading his rifle, "this is going to become more serious. The brig is getting under way!"

"The anchor is apeak!..." cried Pencroff.

"Yes, and it is already dragging."

Indeed, one distinctly heard the clinking of the pawl striking the windlass, as the brig's crew heaved around. The Speedy had first come to the call of its anchor; then, when it had been torn from the bottom, it began to drift toward the land. The wind was blowing offshore; the jib and the foretop sail were hoisted, and the ship gradually approached the land. From the two posts of the Mercy and the chimneys, they watched it maneuver without giving sign of life, but not without a certain emotion. It would be a terrible situation for the colonists, when they should be exposed, at short distance, to the fire of the brig's cannon, and unable to reply usefully. How then could they prevent the pirates from landing?

Cyrus Smith felt this well, and he asked himself what it was possible to do. Before long, he would be called upon to make a decision. But which?

Shut themselves up in Granite House, let themselves be besieged there, hold out for weeks, for months even, since provisions abounded there? Very well! But afterward? The pirates would none the less be masters of the island, which they would ravage at will, and, in time, they would finally overcome the prisoners of Granite House.

However, a chance remained still: that Bob Harvey should not venture with his ship into the channel and should keep outside the islet. Half a mile would still separate him from the coast, and, at that distance, his shots might not be extremely harmful.

"Never," repeated Pencroff, "never will this Bob Harvey, since he is a good sailor, enter the channel! He knows well it would risk the brig, if the sea were to turn rough! And what would become of him without his ship?"

However, the brig had approached the islet, and it could be seen that it sought to gain its lower extremity. The breeze was light, and, as the current had then much lost its force, Bob Harvey was absolutely free to maneuver as he wished.

The route previously followed by the boats had allowed him to reconnoiter the channel, and he had boldly entered it. His project was but too comprehensible: he wished to moor before the chimneys and, from there, answer with shells and balls to the bullets that had hitherto decimated his crew.

Soon the Speedy reached the point of the islet; it rounded it with ease; the brigantine was then thrown aback, and the brig, close-hauled, came abreast of the Mercy.

"The bandits! They're coming in!" cried Pencroff.

At that moment, Cyrus Smith, Ayrton, the sailor, and Harbert were rejoined by Nab and Gideon Spilett.

The reporter and his companion had judged it proper to abandon the post of the Mercy, from which they could no longer do anything against the ship, and they had acted wisely. It was better that the colonists should be united at the moment when a decisive action was no doubt about to engage. Gideon Spilett and Nab had arrived by slipping behind the rocks, but not without sustaining a hail of bullets that had not struck them.

"Spilett! Nab!" cried the engineer. "You are not wounded?"

"No!" replied the reporter, "a few bruises only, by ricochet! But that damned brig is entering the channel!"

"Yes!" replied Pencroff, "and, within ten minutes, it will have anchored before Granite House!"

"Have you a plan, Cyrus?" asked the reporter.

"We must take refuge in Granite House, while there is yet time and the convicts cannot see us."

"That is also my opinion," replied Gideon Spilett; "but once shut in..."

"We will take counsel of circumstances," replied the engineer.

"Then let us go, and hurry!" said the reporter.

"You do not wish, Mr. Cyrus, that Ayrton and I remain here?" asked the sailor.

"What good, Pencroff?" replied Cyrus Smith. "No. Let us not separate!"

There was not an instant to lose. The colonists left the chimneys. A slight return of the curtain prevented them from being seen from the brig; but two or three detonations and the crash of balls upon the rocks told them that the Speedy was no more than a short distance away.

To dash into the elevator, to haul themselves up to the door of Granite House, where Top and Jup had been shut up since the previous evening, to leap into the great hall, was the work of a moment.

It was time, for the colonists, through the branches, perceived the Speedy surrounded with smoke, speeding in the channel. They even had to step aside, for the discharges were incessant, and the balls of the four cannon struck blindly both upon the post of the Mercy, though it was no longer occupied, and upon the chimneys. The rocks were shattered, and hurrahs accompanied each detonation.

However, it might be hoped that Granite House would be spared, thanks to the precaution Cyrus Smith had taken to disguise its windows, when a ball, grazing the bay of the door, penetrated into the corridor.

"Curse it! Are we discovered?" cried Pencroff.

Perhaps the colonists had not been seen, but it was certain that Bob Harvey had judged it proper to send a projectile through the suspicious foliage that masked this portion of the high wall.

Soon even he redoubled his blows, when another ball, having split the leafy curtain, revealed a gaping opening in the granite.

The situation of the colonists was desperate. Their retreat was discovered. They could oppose no obstacle to these projectiles, nor preserve the stone, whose splinters flew like grapeshot around them.

They had nothing left but to take refuge in the upper corridor of Granite House and abandon their dwelling to all devastations, when a dull noise was heard, followed by terrible cries!

Cyrus Smith and his men rushed to one of the windows...

The brig, irresistibly lifted upon a sort of liquid waterspout, had just broken in two, and, in less than ten seconds, it was engulfed with its criminal crew!

CHAPTER IV

"They have blown up!" cried Harbert.

"Yes! Blown up as if Ayrton had fired the powder!" replied Pencroff, throwing himself into the elevator, at the same time as Nab and the boy.

"But what has happened?" asked Gideon Spilett, still stupefied by this unexpected ending.

"Ah! This time, we shall know!..." replied the engineer quickly.

"What shall we know?..."

"Later! Later! Come, Spilett. The important thing is that these pirates have been exterminated!"

And Cyrus Smith, dragging the reporter and Ayrton, rejoined on the shore Pencroff, Nab, and Harbert.

Nothing more was to be seen of the brig, not even its rigging.

After having been lifted by that waterspout, it had laid over on its side and sunk in that position, no doubt as a result of some enormous leak. But, as the channel at this spot measured no more than twenty feet in depth, it was certain that the sides of the submerged brig would reappear at low tide. A few wrecks floated on the surface of the sea.

There was to be seen a whole set of spare masts and yards, hen-coops with their fowls still alive, crates and barrels which, little by little, rose to the surface after escaping through the hatchways; but there drifted no debris, neither planks of the deck nor planking of the hull, — which rendered the sudden engulfment of the Speedy rather inexplicable.

However, the two masts, which had been broken a few feet above the partners, after snapping stays and shrouds, soon rose again upon the waters of the channel, with their sails, some unfurled and others furled. But there was no time to let the ebb carry off all these riches, and Ayrton and Pencroff threw themselves into the pirogue with the intention of mooring all these wrecks either to the shore of the island or to the shore of the islet.

But at the moment they were about to embark, a remark from Gideon Spilett stopped them.

"And the six convicts who landed on the right bank of the Mercy?" said he.

Indeed, one must not forget that the six men whose boat had broken upon the rocks had gained a footing at the wreck point.

They looked in that direction. None of the fugitives was visible. It was probable that, after seeing the brig engulfed in the waters of the channel, they had taken flight into the interior of the island.

"Later, we will attend to them," said Cyrus Smith then. "They may still be dangerous, for they are armed, but after all, six against six, the chances are equal. Let us go to the most pressing."

Ayrton and Pencroff embarked in the pirogue and rowed vigorously toward the wrecks.

The sea was then at slack water, and very high, for the moon had been new for two days. A good hour at least must therefore elapse before the hull of the brig emerged from the waters of the channel.

Ayrton and Pencroff had time to moor the masts and the spars with cords, the end of which was carried to the shore of Granite House. There, the colonists, uniting their efforts, managed to haul these wrecks. Then the pirogue gathered up all that floated, hen-coops, barrels, crates, which were immediately transported to the chimneys.

Some corpses also floated. Among others, Ayrton recognized that of Bob Harvey, and he showed him to his companion, saying in an moved voice:

"What I was, Pencroff!"

"But what you no longer are, brave Ayrton!" replied the sailor.

It was rather singular that the bodies floating were so few in number. There were scarcely five or six to be counted, which the ebb was already beginning to carry toward the open sea.

Very probably the convicts, surprised by the engulfment, had not had time to flee, and the ship, having laid over on its side, most of them had remained caught under the bulwarks. Now, the reflux, which was about to carry toward the high sea the corpses of these wretches, would spare the colonists the sad task of burying them in some corner of their island.

For two hours, Cyrus Smith and his companions were solely occupied in hauling the spars onto the sand and unyarding them, then in drying the sails, which were perfectly intact. They spoke little, so much did the work absorb them, but what thoughts crossed their minds! It was a fortune, the possession of this brig, or rather of all that it contained. Indeed, a ship is like a small complete world, and the equipment of the colony was about to be increased by many useful objects. It would be, "on a large scale," the equivalent of the case found at the wreck point.

"And besides," thought Pencroff, "why should it be impossible to refloat this brig? If it has but one leak, that is stopped, a leak, and a ship of three or four hundred tons is a true ship beside our Bonadventure! and one goes far with that! And one goes where one wishes! Mr. Cyrus, Ayrton, and I must examine the affair! It is worth the trouble!"

Indeed, if the brig were still fit to navigate, the chances of repatriation of the colonists of Lincoln Island would be singularly increased.

But, to decide this important question, it was proper to wait until the sea was quite low, so that the hull of the brig might be examined in all its parts.

When the wrecks had been put in safety on the shore, Cyrus Smith and his companions allowed themselves a few moments to breakfast. They were literally dying of hunger. Happily, the pantry was not far, and Nab might pass for an expeditious head cook. They therefore ate near the chimneys, and, during this meal, it may well be thought, it was only of the unexpected event that had so miraculously saved the colony that they spoke.

"Miraculously is the word," repeated Pencroff, "for one must admit that these rogues blew up just at the right moment! Granite House was beginning to become singularly uninhabitable!"

"And imagine, Pencroff," asked the reporter, "how that happened, and who could have provoked this explosion of the brig?"

"Eh! Mr. Spilett, nothing simpler," replied Pencroff. "A pirate ship is not kept like a warship! Convicts are not sailors! It is certain that the brig's magazines were open, since they were cannonading us without respite, and it sufficed for some reckless or clumsy fellow to blow up the machine!"

"Mr. Cyrus," said Harbert, "what astonishes me is that this explosion produced so little effect. The detonation was not loud, and, in sum, there are few debris and torn planking. It would seem that the ship rather sank than blew up."

"That astonishes you, my child?" asked the engineer.

"Yes, Mr. Cyrus."

"And me too, Harbert," replied the engineer; "that astonishes me; but when we visit the hull of the brig, we shall no doubt have the explanation of this fact."

"Come now! Mr. Cyrus," said Pencroff, "you are not going to pretend that the Speedy simply sank like a vessel that strikes upon a reef?"

"Why not?" observed Nab, "if there are rocks in the channel?"

"Come, Nab," replied Pencroff. "You did not open your eyes at the right moment. An instant before engulfing, the brig, I saw it perfectly, rose upon an enormous wave, and fell back capsizing to port. Now, if it had only touched, it would have sunk quite quietly, like an honest vessel that goes to the bottom."

"That is precisely because it was not an honest vessel!" replied Nab.

"In short, we shall see, Pencroff," resumed the engineer.

"We shall see," added the sailor, "but I would wager my head there are no rocks in the channel. Come, Mr. Cyrus, frankly, would you want to say there is still something wonderful in this event?"

Cyrus Smith did not reply.

"At all events," said Gideon Spilett, "shock or explosion, you will agree, Pencroff, that it arrived opportunely!"

"Yes!... yes!..." replied the sailor... "but that is not the question. I ask Mr. Smith if he sees in all this anything supernatural."

"I do not pronounce myself, Pencroff," said the engineer. "That is all I can answer you."

“Stories of the world, in your language.”