Off on a Comet (21 page)

Finding the subordinates incorruptible, Isaac determined to go to the
fountain-head. He addressed himself to Servadac, and begged him to tell
him the whole truth, piteously adding that surely it was unworthy of a
French officer to deceive a poor old man like himself.

"Tell you the truth, man!" cried Servadac. "Confound it, I have told
you the truth twenty times. Once for all, I tell you now, you have left
yourself barely time enough to make your escape to yonder mountain."

"God and Mahomet have mercy on me!" muttered the Jew, whose creed
frequently assumed a very ambiguous character.

"I will tell you what," continued the captain—"you shall have a few men
to work the
Hansa
across, if you like."

"But I want to go to Algiers," whimpered Hakkabut.

"How often am I to tell you that Algiers is no longer in existence? Only
say yes or no—are you coming with us into winter-quarters?"

"God of Israel! what is to become of all my property?"

"But, mind you," continued the captain, not heeding the interruption,
"if you do not choose voluntarily to come with us, I shall have the
Hansa
, by my orders, removed to a place of safety. I am not going
to let your cursed obstinacy incur the risk of losing your cargo
altogether."

"Merciful Heaven! I shall be ruined!" moaned Isaac, in despair.

"You are going the right way to ruin yourself, and it would serve you
right to leave you to your own devices. But be off! I have no more to
say."

And, turning contemptuously on his heel, Servadac left the old man
vociferating bitterly, and with uplifted hands protesting vehemently
against the rapacity of the Gentiles.

By the 20th all preliminary arrangements were complete, and everything
ready for a final departure from the island. The thermometer stood on
an average at 8 degrees below zero, and the water in the cistern was
completely frozen. It was determined, therefore, for the colony to
embark on the following day, and take up their residence in Nina's Hive.

A final consultation was held about the
Hansa
. Lieutenant Procope
pronounced his decided conviction that it would be impossible for the
tartan to resist the pressure of the ice in the harbor of the Shelif,
and that there would be far more safety in the proximity of the
volcano. It was agreed on all hands that the vessel must be shifted; and
accordingly orders were given, four Russian sailors were sent on board,
and only a few minutes elapsed after the
Dobryna
had weighed anchor,
before the great lateen sail of the tartan was unfurled, and the
"shop-ship," as Ben Zoof delighted to call it, was also on her way to
the southward.

Long and loud were the lamentations of the Jew. He kept exclaiming that
he had given no orders, that he was being moved against his will, that
he had asked for no assistance, and needed none; but it required no very
keen discrimination to observe that all along there was a lurking gleam
of satisfaction in his little gray eyes, and when, a few hours later, he
found himself securely anchored, and his property in a place of safety,
he quite chuckled with glee.

"God of Israel!" he said in an undertone, "they have made no charge; the
idiots have piloted me here for nothing."

For nothing! His whole nature exulted in the consciousness that he was
enjoying a service that had been rendered gratuitously.

Destitute of human inhabitants, Gourbi Island was now left to the
tenancy of such birds and beasts as had escaped the recent promiscuous
slaughter. Birds, indeed, that had migrated in search of warmer shores,
had returned, proving that this fragment of the French colony was the
only shred of land that could yield them any sustenance; but their life
must necessarily be short. It was utterly impossible that they could
survive the cold that would soon ensue.

The colony took possession of their new abode with but few formalities.
Everyone, however, approved of all the internal arrangements of Nina's
Hive, and were profuse in their expressions of satisfaction at finding
themselves located in such comfortable quarters. The only malcontent
was Hakkabut; he had no share in the general enthusiasm, refused even
to enter or inspect any of the galleries, and insisted on remaining on
board his tartan.

"He is afraid," said Ben Zoof, "that he will have to pay for his
lodgings. But wait a bit; we shall see how he stands the cold out there;
the frost, no doubt, will drive the old fox out of his hole."

Towards evening the pots were set boiling, and a bountiful supper, to
which all were invited, was spread in the central hall. The stores of
the
Dobryna
contained some excellent wine, some of which was broached
to do honor to the occasion. The health of the governor general was
drunk, as well as the toast "Success to his council," to which Ben Zoof
was called upon to return thanks. The entertainment passed off merrily.
The Spaniards were in the best of spirits; one of them played the
guitar, another the castanets, and the rest joined in a ringing chorus.
Ben Zoof contributed the famous Zouave refrain, well known throughout
the French army, but rarely performed in finer style than by this
virtuoso:

"Misti goth dar dar tire lyre!
Flic! floc! flac! lirette, lira!
Far la rira,
Tour tala rire,
Tour la Ribaud,
Ricandeau,
Sans repos, repit, repit, repos, ris pot, ripette!
Si vous attrapez mon refrain,
Fameux vous etes."

The concert was succeeded by a ball, unquestionably the first that had
ever taken place in Gallia. The Russian sailors exhibited some of their
national dances, which gained considerable applause, even although they
followed upon the marvelous fandangos of the Spaniards. Ben Zoof, in
his turn, danced a
pas seul
(often performed in the Elysee Montmartre)
with an elegance and vigor that earned many compliments from Negrete.

It was nine o'clock before the festivities came to an end, and by that
time the company, heated by the high temperature of the hall, and by
their own exertions, felt the want of a little fresh air. Accordingly
the greater portion of the party, escorted by Ben Zoof, made their way
into one of the adjacent galleries that led to the shore. Servadac,
with the count and lieutenant, did not follow immediately; but shortly
afterwards they proceeded to join them, when on their way they were
startled by loud cries from those in advance.

Their first impression was that they were cries of distress, and they
were greatly relieved to find that they were shouts of delight, which
the dryness and purity of the atmosphere caused to re-echo like a volley
of musketry.

Reaching the mouth of the gallery, they found the entire group pointing
with eager interest to the sky.

"Well, Ben Zoof," asked the captain, "what's the matter now?"

"Oh, your Excellency," ejaculated the orderly, "look there! look there!
The moon! the moon's come back!"

And, sure enough, what was apparently the moon was rising above the
mists of evening.

The moon! She had disappeared for weeks; was she now returning? Had
she been faithless to the earth? and had she now approached to be a
satellite of the new-born world?

"Impossible!" said Lieutenant Procope; "the earth is millions and
millions of leagues away, and it is not probable that the moon has
ceased to revolve about her."

"Why not?" remonstrated Servadac. "It would not be more strange than the
other phenomena which we have lately witnessed. Why should not the moon
have fallen within the limits of Gallia's attraction, and become her
satellite?"

"Upon that supposition," put in the count, "I should think that it would
be altogether unlikely that three months would elapse without our seeing
her."

"Quite incredible!" continued Procope. "And there is another thing which
totally disproves the captain's hypothesis; the magnitude of Gallia
is far too insignificant for her power of attraction to carry off the
moon."

"But," persisted Servadac, "why should not the same convulsion that tore
us away from the earth have torn away the moon as well? After wandering
about as she would for a while in the solar regions, I do not see why
she should not have attached herself to us."

The lieutenant repeated his conviction that it was not likely.

"But why not?" again asked Servadac impetuously.

"Because, I tell you, the mass of Gallia is so inferior to that of the
moon, that Gallia would become the moon's satellite; the moon could not
possibly become hers."

"Assuming, however," continued Servadac, "such to be the case—"

"I am afraid," said the lieutenant, interrupting him, "that I cannot
assume anything of the sort even for a moment."

Servadac smiled good-humoredly.

"I confess you seem to have the best of the argument, and if Gallia had
become a satellite of the moon, it would not have taken three months to
catch sight of her. I suppose you are right."

While this discussion had been going on, the satellite, or whatever it
might be, had been rising steadily above the horizon, and had reached a
position favorable for observation. Telescopes were brought, and it was
very soon ascertained, beyond a question, that the new luminary was not
the well-known Phoebe of terrestrial nights; it had no feature in common
with the moon. Although it was apparently much nearer to Gallia than the
moon to the earth, its superficies was hardly one-tenth as large, and
so feebly did it reflect the light of the remote sun, that it scarcely
emitted radiance enough to extinguish the dim luster of stars of the
eighth magnitude. Like the sun, it had risen in the west, and was now
at its full. To mistake its identity with the moon was absolutely
impossible; not even Servadac could discover a trace of the seas,
chasms, craters, and mountains which have been so minutely delineated
in lunar charts, and it could not be denied that any transient hope
that had been excited as to their once again being about to enjoy the
peaceful smiles of "the queen of night" must all be resigned.

Count Timascheff finally suggested, though somewhat doubtfully, the
question of the probability that Gallia, in her course across the zone
of the minor planets, had carried off one of them; but whether it
was one of the 169 asteroids already included in the astronomical
catalogues, or one previously unknown, he did not presume to determine.
The idea to a certain extent was plausible, inasmuch as it has been
ascertained that several of the telescopic planets are of such small
dimensions that a good walker might make a circuit of them in four and
twenty hours; consequently Gallia, being of superior volume, might be
supposed capable of exercising a power of attraction upon any of these
miniature microcosms.

The first night in Nina's Hive passed without special incident; and
next morning a regular scheme of life was definitely laid down. "My lord
governor," as Ben Zoof until he was peremptorily forbidden delighted to
call Servadac, had a wholesome dread of idleness and its consequences,
and insisted upon each member of the party undertaking some special
duty to fulfill. There was plenty to do. The domestic animals required
a great deal of attention; a supply of food had to be secured and
preserved; fishing had to be carried on while the condition of the sea
would allow it; and in several places the galleries had to be further
excavated to render them more available for use. Occupation, then, need
never be wanting, and the daily round of labor could go on in orderly
routine.

A perfect concord ruled the little colony. The Russians and Spaniards
amalgamated well, and both did their best to pick up various scraps
of French, which was considered the official language of the place.
Servadac himself undertook the tuition of Pablo and Nina, Ben Zoof being
their companion in play-hours, when he entertained them with enchanting
stories in the best Parisian French, about "a lovely city at the foot of
a mountain," where he always promised one day to take them.

The end of March came, but the cold was not intense to such a degree
as to confine any of the party to the interior of their resort; several
excursions were made along the shore, and for a radius of three or
four miles the adjacent district was carefully explored. Investigation,
however, always ended in the same result; turn their course in whatever
direction they would, they found that the country retained everywhere
its desert character, rocky, barren, and without a trace of vegetation.
Here and there a slight layer of snow, or a thin coating of ice arising
from atmospheric condensation indicated the existence of superficial
moisture, but it would require a period indefinitely long, exceeding
human reckoning, before that moisture could collect into a stream and
roll downwards over the stony strata to the sea. It seemed at present
out of their power to determine whether the land upon which they were
so happily settled was an island or a continent, and till the cold was
abated they feared to undertake any lengthened expedition to ascertain
the actual extent of the strange concrete of metallic crystallization.

By ascending one day to the summit of the volcano, Captain Servadac
and the count succeeded in getting a general idea of the aspect of the
country. The mountain itself was an enormous block rising symmetrically
to a height of nearly 3,000 feet above the level of the sea, in the
form of a truncated cone, of which the topmost section was crowned by a
wreath of smoke issuing continuously from the mouth of a narrow crater.

Under the old condition of terrestrial things, the ascent of this steep
acclivity would have been attended with much fatigue, but as the effect
of the altered condition of the law of gravity, the travelers performed
perpetual prodigies in the way of agility, and in little over an hour
reached the edge of the crater, without more sense of exertion than if
they had traversed a couple of miles on level ground. Gallia had its
drawbacks, but it had some compensating advantages.