Part 2 - Abandoned: Chapter 15

by Jules Verne

　　The next day, the 20th of October, at seven o'clock in the morning, after avoyage of four days, the "Bonadventure" gently glided up to the beach atthe 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 to theplateau of Prospect Heights, and they had at last caught sight of thevessel 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 on thebeach, and before the passengers had time to leap on to the sand, Hardingsaid: "We have been very uneasy at your delay, my friends! Did you meetwith 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 castaway hadbeen captured, who appeared no longer to belong to the human species.

　　"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 who knowswhat will become of the survivor of us after a long solitude on thisisland? It is a great misfortune to be alone, my friends; and it must bebelieved that solitude can quickly destroy reason, since you have foundthis 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, andsince there is still a soul in him, this soul we shall save!"

　　The castaway of Tabor Island, to the great pity of the engineer and thegreat 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 more resistance.

　　"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, and yetHarding, as had the reporter already, observed in his look an indefinabletrace 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 rooms ofGranite House, from which, however, he could not escape. He was led therewithout difficulty, and with careful attention, it might, perhaps, be hopedthat some day he would be a companion to the settlers in Lincoln Island.

　　Cyrus Harding, during breakfast, which Neb had hastened to prepare, asthe reporter, Herbert, and Pencroft were dying of hunger, heard in detailall the incidents which had marked the voyage of exploration to the islet.He agreed with his friends on this point, that the stranger must be eitherEnglish or American, the name Britannia leading them to suppose this, and,besides, through the bushy beard, and under the shaggy, matted hair, theengineer thought he could recognize the characteristic features of theAnglo-Saxon.

　　"But, by the bye," said Gideon Spilett, addressing Herbert, "you nevertold us how you met this savage, and we know nothing, except that you wouldhave been strangled, if we had not happened to come up in time to helpyou!"

　　"Upon my word," answered Herbert, "it is rather difficult to say how ithappened. I was, I think, occupied in collecting my plants, when I heard anoise like an avalanche falling from a very tall tree. I scarcely had timeto look round. This unfortunate man, who was without doubt concealed in atree, rushed upon me in less time than I take to tell you about it, andunless 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 from yoursearch, 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, sawnothing which could help them to establish the identity of the stranger.

　　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 box ofcaps, were very welcome. It was agreed to establish a small powder-magazine, either outside Granite House or in the Upper Cavern, where therewould be no fear of explosion. However, the use of pyroxyle was to becontinued, for this substance giving excellent results, there was no reasonfor 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 have afine straight road to take us there!"

　　"Do it then, Pencroft, and take your 'Bonadventure' there," replied theengineer, "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," theanchor was weighed, the sail hoisted, and the wind drove her rapidlytowards Claw Cape. Two hours after, she was reposing on the tranquil watersof 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 throw himselfonto the beach, out of one of the windows of Granite House. But graduallyhe became calmer, and more freedom was allowed to his movements.

　　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 produce inhim the same sentiment of repulsion which he had showed on board the"Bonadventure." Cyrus Harding had profited by a moment when he wassleeping, to cut his hair and matted beard, which formed a sort of mane andgave him such a savage aspect. He had also been clothed more suitably,after having got rid of the rag which covered him. The result was that,thanks to these attentions, the stranger resumed a more human appearance,and it even seemed as if his eyes had become milder. Certainly, whenformerly lighted up by intelligence, this man's face must have had a sortof beauty.

　　Every day, Harding imposed on himself the task of passing some hours inhis company. He came and worked near him, and occupied himself in differentthings, so as to fix his attention. A spark, indeed, would be sufficient toreillumine that soul, a recollection crossing that brain to recall reason.That had been seen, during the storm, on board the "Bonadventure!" Theengineer did not neglect either to speak aloud, so as to penetrate at thesame time by the organs of hearing and sight the depths of that torpidintelligence. Sometimes one of his companions, sometimes another, sometimesall joined him. They spoke most often of things belonging to the navy,which must interest a sailor.

　　At times, the stranger gave some slight attention to what was said, andthe settlers were soon convinced that he partly understood them. Sometimesthe expression of his countenance was deeply sorrowful, a proof that hesuffered mentally, for his face could not be mistaken; but he did notspeak, although at different times, however, they almost thought that wordswere about to issue from his lips. At all events, the poor creature wasquite 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, towhom he would soon become accustomed, having no desires to satisfy, betterfed, better clothed, it was natural that his physical nature shouldgradually improve; but was he penetrated with the sense of a new life? orrather, to employ a word which would be exactly applicable to him, was henot becoming tamed, like an animal in company with his master? This was animportant question, which Cyrus Harding was anxious to answer, and yet hedid not wish to treat his invalid roughly! Would he 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! Thesettlers followed with real sympathy all the phases of the cure undertakenby Harding. They aided him also in this work of humanity, and all, exceptperhaps the incredulous Pencroft, soon shared both his hope and his faith.

　　The calm of the stranger was deep, as has been said, and he even showed asort of attachment for the engineer, whose influence he evidently felt.Cyrus Harding resolved then to try him, by transporting him to anotherscene, from that ocean which formerly his eyes had been accustomed tocontemplate, to the border of the forest, which might perhaps recall thosewhere so many years of his life had been passed!

　　"But," said Gideon Spilett, "can we hope that he will not escape, if onceset 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 was warm, anda bright sun darted its rays on the island. Cyrus Harding and Pencroft wentto the room occupied by the stranger, who was found lying near the windowand 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 confident asto the result of the experiment.

　　Arrived at the door, Harding and Pencroft made him take his place in thelift, while Neb, Herbert, and Gideon Spilett waited for them before GraniteHouse. The lift descended, and in a few moments all were united on thebeach.

　　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. Hewas gazing at the little waves which, broken by the islet, rippled on thesand.

　　"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 is raised."

　　"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!"