The Mysterious Island. Jules Verne
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were these: “A Southerner is taking aim at me and …” The shot missed its mark and, following his usual luck, Gideon Spilett came out of the affair without a scratch.
Cyrus Smith and Gideon Spilett, who did not know each other except by reputation, were both taken to Richmond. The engineer rapidly recovered from his wound, and during his convalescence he made the acquaintance of the reporter. These two men liked one another at first sight and learned to appreciate each other. Soon their common life had only one goal: to escape, rejoin Grant’s army, and, once in its ranks again, to fight for the preservation of the federal Union.
The two Americans decided to take advantage of any occasion that arose; but, although they had been left at liberty within the city, Richmond itself was so closely guarded that an escape was impossible.
At this time, Cyrus Smith was joined by his servant who was devoted to him in life and in death. This fearless person was a Negro born of slave parents into the engineer’s estate. But Cyrus Smith, who was an abolitionist by conviction as well as from the heart, had long since emancipated him. The slave, on becoming free, did not wish to leave his master. He would have willingly given up his life for him. He was thirty years old, vigorous, agile, skillful, intelligent, gentle and calm, naive at times, always smiling, helpful and kind. He was named Nebuchadnezzar,9 but he answered only to the abbreviated nickname of Neb.
When Neb learned that his master had been made prisoner, he left Massachusetts without hesitation, arrived in Richmond, and, with shrewdness and guile, after having risked his life twenty times, he succeeded in penetrating the besieged city. Cyrus Smith’s pleasure in seeing his servant again and Neb’s joy on finding his master cannot be expressed.
But if Neb was able to get into Richmond, it was much more troublesome to get out because the Federal prisoners were closely guarded. It would take an extraordinary turn of events before they could attempt an escape with any chance of success. This opportunity not only did not present itself, but it was also difficult to make happen.
Meanwhile, Grant continued his energetic maneuvers. The victory at Petersburg had been very dearly fought.10 His forces, united with those of Butler,11 could still not gain a decisive victory at Richmond, so the release of the prisoners was not at hand. The reporter, who found his captivity tedious, could not find a single detail worth noting and could no longer endure it. He had but one idea: to leave Richmond at any cost. Several times he attempted to escape, but was stopped by insurmountable obstacles.
Still the siege continued. If the prisoners were in a hurry to escape to rejoin Grant’s army, some of the besieged were no less in a hurry to flee in order to rejoin the rebel army, among them a certain Jonathan Forster,12 a dyed-in-the-wool Southerner. In fact, if the Federal prisoners could not leave the city, neither could the Confederates because the Northern army surrounded it. The governor of Richmond had not been able to communicate with General Lee13 for some time. It was of utmost importance to make the city’s situation known in order to hasten the march of the relief army. This Jonathan Forster had the idea of crossing above the lines of the besiegers in a balloon, to reach the Confederate camp in that way.14
The governor authorized the attempt. A balloon was fabricated and placed at the disposal of Jonathan Forster and five of his companions who would follow him into the skies. It was furnished with weapons and ammunition in case they had to defend themselves on landing, and with provisions in case their aerial voyage was prolonged.
The departure of the balloon was fixed for the 18th of March. It would take place during the night and, with a moderate northwest wind, the aeronauts could count on arriving at General Lee’s headquarters in a few hours.
But this northwest wind was not a mere breeze. From the 18th on, they could see that it was turning into a storm. Soon the storm became so strong that Forster’s departure had to be postponed because of the impossible risk, in such violent conditions, to both the balloon and to the men it would carry.
The balloon, inflated in the main square of Richmond, remained there ready to leave at the first calming of the wind. Impatience grew as the storm refused to die down. The 18th and the 19th passed without any change. It even proved difficult to keep the balloon intact because gusts of wind continually threw it to the ground.
The nights of the 19th and the 20th went by. The following morning, the fury of the storm increased. Departure was impossible.
On that day the engineer, Cyrus Smith, was approached in one of the streets of Richmond by a man he did not know. It was a sailor named Pencroff,15 between thirty five and forty years old, with a stocky build, very suntanned, sharp and blinking eyes, but with a kind face. This Pencroff was a Northerner who had crossed all the seas of the globe and who had experienced all the adventures that could befall a being with two feet and no feathers. Needless to say, he had an enterprising nature, ready to venture anything and was surprised at nothing. Pencroff came to Richmond at the beginning of the year on business with a fifteen year old boy, Harbert Brown16 of New Jersey, the son of his captain, an orphan whom he loved like his own child. Not being able to leave the city before the beginnings of the siege, he found himself confined there to his great displeasure. He too had but one idea, to escape by all means possible. He knew of Cyrus Smith’s reputation, and he knew how impatient this determined man was to break free. On this day, he therefore did not hesitate to approach him saying without thinking:
“Mr. Smith, have you had enough of Richmond?”
“Mr. Smith, would you like to escape?”
The engineer stared at the man who spoke to him in this way, who added in a low voice:
“Mr. Smith, would you like to escape?”
“When?” the engineer replied briskly. This response burst from him before he could examine the person speaking to him.
But after giving the sailor a penetrating look, he did not doubt that he had an honest man before him.
“Who are you?” he asked briefly.
Pencroff introduced himself.
“Good,” replied Cyrus Smith, “and how do you propose to escape?”
“By that lazy balloon which lies there doing nothing and which seems to be waiting just for us …”
The sailor had no need to finish his sentence. The engineer understood from the first word. He seized Pencroff by the arms and led him to his dwelling.
There the sailor outlined his plan, really a simple one. They risked nothing in its execution but their lives. The storm was at its height, it was true, but an engineer as skillful as Cyrus Smith would know how to navigate a balloon. If Pencroff had known how to maneuver it himself, he would not have hesitated to leave, with Harbert of course. He had seen better storms than this at sea.
Cyrus Smith listened to the sailor without saying a word, but his eyes were burning bright. This was the opportunity and he was not a man to let it pass. The project was very dangerous, but it was feasible. At night they could board the balloon in spite of the surveillance, slip into the basket, and cut the lines that held it. Certainly they risked being killed but, on the other hand, they might succeed, and without this storm … But, without this storm, the balloon would already have left, and this long sought opportunity would not have presented itself at all.
“I am not alone! …” Cyrus Smith finally said.
“How many people do you want to take along?” asked the sailor.
“Two: my friend Spilett and my servant Neb.”
“That makes three,” replied Pencroff, “and with Harbert and me, five. The balloon can carry six …”
“That’s enough. We will go!” said Cyrus Smith.
This “we” committed the reporter, but he was not a man to back down and, when told about the plan, he approved it without reservation. What astonished him was that they had not