The Floating Island (49 page)

But the difficulty was that these
thousands of people could not take passage on Starboard Harbour, its area being
only from six to seven thousand square metres. Would it have to be sent fifty
miles away in search of help?

No! The voyage would require
considerable time, and there were not many hours to spare. There was not a day
to lose if the people were to be preserved from the horrors of famine.

“We can do better than that,”
said the King of Malecarlie. “The fragments of Starboard Harbour and the
batteries can carry all the survivors of Floating Island. Fasten these three
fragments together by strong chains, and tow them one behind the other as if
they were barges. Then, with Starboard Harbour at the head, its five million
horse-power can take us to New Zealand.”

The advice was excellent, it was
practicable, it had every chance of success, now that Starboard Harbour
possessed such enormous locomotive power. Confidence returned to the people as
if they were already in sight of port.

The rest of the day was employed
in the work necessitated by the fixing of the chains which were furnished by
the stores of Starboard Harbour. Commodore Simcoe estimated that in this way a
speed of from eight to ten miles a day could be obtained. In five days they
would, if assisted by the current, accomplish the fifty miles which separated
them from New Zealand. There was no doubt that the provisions would last until
then. But to provide against delays, the rations were prudently maintained as
before.

The preparations being complete,
Starboard Harbour took the head of the procession about seven o’clock in the
evening. Under the propulsion of its screws the two other fragments were slowly
towed over the calm sea.

Next morning at daylight the
look-outs had lost sight of the fragments left behind.

Nothing of importance occurred
during the 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th of April. The weather was favourable,
the motion of the sea was hardly perceptible, and the voyage continued under
excellent conditions.

About eight o’clock on the
morning of the 9th of April, the land was sighted on the port bow
—
a high land that
could be seen from a considerable distance.

Observations being taken with the
instruments at Starboard Harbour, there was no doubt as to the identity of this
land. It was the northern island of New Zealand.

A day and a night passed, and on
the 10th of April, in the morning, Starboard Harbour ran aground about a cable
length from the shore in Ravaraki Bay.

What satisfaction, what security
the people experienced when they felt the real ground beneath their feet, and
not the artificial soil of Floating Island. And yet how long might not this
substantial maritime apparatus have lasted, if human passions, stronger than
the winds and the sea, had not driven it to destruction.

The shipwrecked people were very
hospitably received by the New Zealanders, who gave everybody food who required
it.

As soon as they arrived at
Auckland, the marriage of Walter Tankerdon with Di Coverley was at last celebrated
with all the pomp the circumstances deserved. Let us add that the Quartette
Party were heard for the last time at this ceremony, at which all the
Milliardites were present. It would be a happy union
—
would it had taken place sooner, in
the interest of all! Doubtless the young couple only possessed a poor million
each
—

“But,” as Pinchinat said, “there
is every reason to believe that they will still find happiness with such a
moderate fortune.”

The Tankerdons and Coverleys and
other notables intended to return to America, where they would no longer
dispute over the government of a Floating Island.

The same determination was come
to by Commodore Simcoe, Colonel Stewart and their officers, the staff of the
observatory, and even the superintendent, Calistus Munbar, who had not given up
the idea of building a new artificial island.

The King and Queen of Malecarlie
made no secret as to their regret for Floating Island, in which they had hoped
to peacefully terminate their existence. Let us hope that these ex-sovereigns
found a corner of the earth where they could spend their last days sheltered
from political discussions.

And the Quartette Party?

Well, the Quartette Party,
whatever Sebastien Zorn might say, had not done so badly, and if they bore any
ill-will to Calistus Munbar for having taken them against their will, it would
have been sheer ingratitude.

From the 25th of May the
preceding year until the 10th of April a little more than eleven months had
elapsed, during which our artistes had lived the luxurious life we know. They
had received the fourth instalment of their salary, three instalments of which
were deposited in the banks of San Francisco and New York, payable to them on
demand.

After the marriage ceremony at
Auckland, Sebastien Zorn, Yvernès, Frascolin, and Pinchinat went to take leave
of their friends, not forgetting Athanase Dorémus. Then they embarked on a
steamer bound for San Diego.

Arriving on the 3rd of May in
this capital of Lower California, their first care was to apologize through the
newspapers for having failed to keep their appointment eleven months before,
and to express their sincere regret at what had happened.

“Gentlemen, we would have waited
for you for twenty years!”

That was the reply they received
from the amiable director of concerts at San Diego.

Nobody could have been more
accommodating or more gracious. The only way to acknowledge such courtesy was
to give this concert which had been announced for so long.

And before a public as numerous
as enthusiastic, the quartette in F major, from Op. 9 of Mozart, was for these
virtuosos escaped from the wreck of Floating Island one of the greatest
successes of their artistic career.

Such is the end of the story of
the ninth wonder of the world, this incomparable Pearl of the Pacific! All is
well that ends well, as people say, but all is bad that ends badly, and was
such the case with Floating Island?

Ended, no! It will be rebuilt
some day
—
at
least Calistus Munbar says so.

And yet
—
we cannot repeat it too often
—
to create an
artificial island, an island that moves on the surface of the seas, is it not
to overstep the limits assigned to human genius, and is it not forbidden to
man, who disposes not of the winds or the waves, to so recklessly usurp the
functions of the Creator?