The next day, the 20th of October, at seven o'clock in the morning, after a voyage of four days, the "Bonadventure" gently glided up to the beach at the mouth of the Mercy.
Cyrus Harding and Neb, who had become very uneasy at the bad weather and the prolonged absence of their companions, had climbed at daybreak to the plateau of Prospect Heights, and they had at last caught sight of the vessel 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 his hands and shouting, "Oh! my master!" A more touching pantomime than the finest 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 Tabor Island, or at any rate that the unfortunate man had refused to leave his island and change one prison for another.
Indeed Pencroft, Gideon Spilett, and Herbert were alone on the deck of the "Bonadventure."The moment the vessel touched, the engineer and Neb were waiting on the beach, and before the passengers had time to leap on to the sand, Harding said: "We have been very uneasy at your delay, my friends! Did you meet with any accident?""No," replied Gideon Spilett; "on the contrary, everything went wonderfully 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 only dwelling in the island had long been abandoned; how at last a castaway had been 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 have done 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 few months ago the wretched creature was a man like you and me.And who knows what will become of the survivor of us after a long solitude on this island? It is a great misfortune to be alone, my friends; and it must be believed that solitude can quickly destroy reason, since you have found this poor creature in such a state!""But, captain," asked Herbert, "what leads you to think that the brutishness of the unfortunate man began only a few months back?""Because the document we found had been recently written," answered the engineer, "and the castaway alone can have written it.""Always supposing," observed Gideon Spilett, "that it had not been written 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," replied Harding, "and it mentioned only one."Herbert then in a few words related the incidents of the voyage, and dwelt on the curious fact of the sort of passing gleam in the prisoner's mind, when for an instant in the height of the storm he had become a sailor.
"Well, Herbert," replied the engineer, "you are right to attach great importance to this fact.The unfortunate man cannot be incurable, and despair has made him what he is; but here he will find his fellow-men, and since 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 the great astonishment of Neb, was then brought from the cabin which he occupied in the fore part of the "Bonadventure"; when once on land he manifested a wish to run away.
But Cyrus Harding approaching, placed his hand on his shoulder with a gesture full of authority, and looked at him with infinite tenderness.
Immediately the unhappy man, submitting to a superior will, gradually became 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 appearance this miserable being had no longer anything human about him, and yet Harding, as had the reporter already, observed in his look an indefinable trace of intelligence.
It was decided that the castaway, or rather the stranger as he was thenceforth termed by his companions, should live in one of the rooms of Granite House, from which, however, he could not escape.He was led there without difficulty, and with careful attention, it might, perhaps, be hoped that some day he would be a companion to the settlers in Lincoln Island.
Cyrus Harding, during breakfast, which Neb had hastened to prepare, as the reporter, Herbert, and Pencroft were dying of hunger, heard in detail all 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 either English or American, the name Britannia leading them to suppose this, and, besides, through the bushy beard, and under the shaggy, matted hair, the engineer thought he could recognize the characteristic features of the Anglo-Saxon.
