came to Richmond on business, he had with him Herbert Brown[15] , of New Jersey[16] , a lad fifteen years old, the son of Pencroff’s captain, and an orphan. Pencroff loved the boy as his own child. He also wanted to get out. He did not hesitate to address Mr. Smith without ceremony.
– Mr. Smith?
The engineer looked at the man who added in a low voice:
– Mr. Smith, do you want to escape?
– How? – answered the engineer, quickly. – Who are you? – he demanded, in a cold voice.
Pencroff told him about himself.
– Well, – replied Smith. – And how do you propose to escape?
– By this idle balloon which is doing nothing, and is ready to take us!
The engineer seized Pencroff by the arm and hurried him to his house. There the sailor explained his project, which was simple enough. The storm was terrible, it is true; but a skilful engineer like Smith knew well how to manage a balloon. He saw many storms in his life.
Cyrus Smith listened to the sailor and he was silent. This was the opportunity! The project was very dangerous, but it was real. During the night, in spite of the guards, they might reach the balloon, creep into the basket, and then cut the lines!
– I am not alone, – said Smith.
– How many people more? – demanded the sailor.
– Two; my friend Spilett, and my man Neb.
– Three, – replied Pencroff; – and, with Herbert and myself, five. Can the balloon carry six?
– Very well. We will go! – said the engineer.
– Tonight, then, – said Pencroff.
– Tonight, at ten o’clock, – replied Smith.
Pencroff returned to his lodging, where he found young Herbert Brown. This brave boy knew the plans of the sailor, and he was ready to go with him.
The storm did not abate. The engineer feared but one thing; that the balloon could be torn into a thousand pieces.
Evening arrived. Thick masses of fog passed over the earth. Rain mingled with snow fell. The weather was cold. The streets of the city were deserted. In such weather, no one guarded the square in which swung the balloon.
– Bad weather, – said Pencroff, holding his hat, which the wind was trying to take off, firmly to his head.
At half past 9, Cyrus Smith and his companions came together at the basket. Without saying a word, four of them took their places in the basket, while Pencroff, under the direction of the engineer, unfastened the bundles of ballast. Then the sailor joined his companions. At that moment, a dog leaped into the basket. It was Top, the dog of the engineer, who had followed his master.
Then the storm burst upon them. The engineer did not dare to descend during the night. It was not until five days later that they saw the sea below them.
So of these five men, who started on the 20th of March, four were thrown, four days later, on a desert coast, more than 6,000 miles from this country. And the one who was missing[17] was their leader, Cyrus Smith.
Chapter III
A wave swept away the engineer. His dog had disappeared at the same time. The faithful animal tried to rescue its master.
– Forward! – cried the reporter, and all four began their search. Poor Neb wept with grief and despair. But Smith’s companions hoped to find him.
– Look for him! – cried Neb.
– Yes, Neb, and we will find him, – replied Spilett.
– Alive?
– Alive!
– Can he swim? – demanded Pencroff.
– Oh, yes, – responded Neb. – And, besides, Top is with him.
The sailor looked at the roaring sea, and shook his head.
It was nearly 6 o’clock. The fog made the night very dark. The men went northward along the shore. Where are they? They could not guess their geographical situation. They walked upon a sandy soil, mixed with stones. The little party was searching all the corners.
After a walk of twenty minutes the four men were suddenly stopped by a rock. They found themselves[18] upon the extremity of a sharp point upon which the sea broke with fury.
– This is a promontory, – said the sailor, – we must turn back.
– But if he is there! – cried Neb.
– Well, let us call again.
And all together uttered a vigorous cry, but without response. They waited, and tried once more. And again there was no answer.
Then they turned back. They were following the opposite side of the promontory over ground equally sandy and rocky. However, Pencroff observed that the shore was bold there, and the birds were less numerous on this shore.
They were walking towards the south. Soon they found themselves again upon a high promontory of slippery rocks.
– We are on an island, – exclaimed Pencroff.
The words of the sailor were true. The castaways were not upon a continent, but upon an island not more than two miles long.
This desert isle, covered with stones, without vegetation, did it belong to a more important archipelago? They could not tell. It was necessary to wait until the next day to search for the engineer; who made no cry to signal his presence.
– The silence of Cyrus proves nothing, – said the reporter. He may be wounded, and unable to reply.
The reporter then offered to light a fire upon the point of the island. It can serve as a signal for the engineer. But they searched in vain[19] for wood or dry branches. Sand and stones were all they found.
One can understand the grief of Neb and his companions, who loved their brave comrade. It was evident that they could not help him now, and that they must wait till day. The engineer escaped. He was already safe upon the land, or he died. The hours were long and dreadful, the cold was intense. But the castaways did not think of sleep. They moved back and forth upon that arid island. They listened, they shouted, they tried to catch some call.
Once the cry of Neb was answered by an echo; and Herbert said:
– That proves that there is land not far to the west.
The sailor nodded; he knew his eyes could not deceive him. The land must be there! Meanwhile the sky was clearing slowly.
The night passed; and towards
Herbert Brown – Герберт Браун
New Jersey – Нью-Джерси
was missing – отсутствовал
found themselves – оказались
in vain – напрасно
