The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne (uplifting books for women txt) 📕

Herbert’s transportation was quickly decided. A litter would be the most comfortable way of travelling, but it would necessitate two porters; that is, two guns would be subtracted from their means of defense. On the other hand, by placing the mattresses on which Herbert lay in the wagon, so as to deaden the motion, and by walking carefully they could escape jolting him, and would leave their arms free.

The wagon was brought out and the onagga harnessed to it; Smith and the reporter lifted the mattresses with Herbert on them, and laid them in the bottom of the wagon between the rails. The weather was fine, and the sun shone brightly between the trees.

“Are the arms ready?” asked Smith.

They were. The engineer and Pencroff, each armed with a double-barrelled gun, and Spilett with his carbine, stood ready to set out.

“How do you feel, Herbert?” asked the engineer.

“Don’t be troubled, Mr. Smith,” answered the boy, “I shall not die on the way.”

They could see that the poor fellow was making a tremendous effort. The engineer felt a grievous pang. He hesitated to give the signal for departure. But to stay would have thrown Herbert into despair.

“Let us start,” said Smith.

The corral door was opened. Jup and Top, who knew how to be quiet on emergency, rushed on ahead. The wagon went out, the gate was shut, and the onagga, under Pencroff’s guidance, walked on with a slow pace.

It was necessary, on account of the wagon, to keep to the direct road from the corral to Granite House, although it was known to the convicts. Smith and Spilett walked on either side of the chariot, ready to meet any attack. Still it was not likely that the convicts had yet abandoned Prospect Plateau. Neb’s note had evidently been sent as soon as they made their appearance. Now this note was dated at six o’clock in the morning, and the active orang, who was accustomed to the way, would have got over the five miles from Granite House in three-quarters of an hour. Probably they would have no danger to fear till they approached Granite House.

But they kept on the alert. Top and Jup, the latter armed with his stick, sometimes in front, and sometimes beating the woods on either side, gave no signal of approaching danger. The wagon moved on slowly, and an hour after leaving the corral, they had passed over four of the five miles without any incident.

They drew near the plateau another mile, and they saw the causeway over Glycerine Creek. At last, through an opening in the wood, they saw the horizon of the sea. But the wagon went on slowly, and none of its defenders could leave it for a moment. Just then Pencroff stopped the wagon and cried, fiercely, “Ah, the wretches!”

And he pointed to a thick smoke which curled up from the mill, the stables, and the buildings of the poultry-yard. In the midst of this smoke a man was running about. It was Neb.

His companions uttered a cry. He heard them and rushed to meet them.

The convicts had abandoned the plateau half an hour before, after having done all the mischief they could.

“And Mr. Herbert?” cried Neb.

Spilett went back to the wagon. Herbert had fainted.

LII

Herbert carried to Granite House⁠—Neb relates what had happened⁠—Visit of Smith to the plateau⁠—Ruin and devastation⁠—The colonists helpless⁠—Willow bark⁠—A mortal fever⁠—Top barks again.

The convicts, the dangers threatening Granite House, the ruin on the plateau, none of these were thought of in the present condition of Herbert. It was impossible to say whether the transportation had occasioned some internal rupture, but his companions were almost hopeless.

The wagon had been taken to the bend of the river, and there the mattress, on which lay the unconscious lad, was placed on a litter of branches, and within a few minutes Herbert was lying on his bed in Granite House. He smiled for a moment on finding himself again in his chamber, and a few words escaped feebly from his lips. Spilett looked at his wounds, fearing that they might have opened, but the cicatrices were unbroken. What, then, was the cause of this prostration, or why had his condition grown worse?

Soon the lad fell into a feverish sleep, and the reporter and Pencroff watched beside him.

Meantime, Smith told Neb of all that had happened at the corral, and Neb told his master of what had passed at the plateau.

It was not until the previous night that the convicts had shown themselves beyond the edge of the forest, near Glycerine Creek. Neb, keeping watch near the poultry-yard, had not hesitated to fire at one of them who was crossing the bridge; but he could not say with what result. At least, it did not disperse the band, and Neb had but just time to climb up into Granite House, where he, at least, would be safe.

But what was the next thing to do? How to prevent the threatened devastation to the plateau? How could he inform his master? And, moreover, in what situation were the occupants of the corral?

Smith and his companions had gone away on the 11th, and here it was the 29th. In that time all the information that Neb had received was the disastrous news brought by Top. Ayrton gone, Herbert badly wounded, the engineer, the reporter, and the sailor imprisoned in the corral.

The poor negro asked himself what was to be done. Personally, he had nothing to fear, as the convicts could not get into Granite House. But the works, the fields, all the improvements, were at the mercy of the pirates. Was it not best to let Smith know of the threatened danger?

Then Neb thought of employing Jup on this errand. He knew the intelligence of the orang. Jup knew the word “corral.” It was not yet daylight. The agile brute could slip through the woods unperceived. So the negro wrote a note, which he fastened round Jup’s neck, and taking the monkey to the door