Off on a Comet - Jules Verne (classic english novels .TXT) 📗

class="calibre1">justice, has gained for itself the title of “the poor man’s cow.”

So far from being alarmed at the presence of strangers, the goat ran

nimbly towards them, and then, by its movements and plaintive cries,

seemed to be enticing them to follow it.

 

“Come,” said Servadac; “let us see where it will lead us;

it is more than probable it is not alone.”

 

The count agreed; and the animal, as if comprehending what was said,

trotted on gently for about a hundred paces, and stopped in front of a

kind of cave or burrow that was half concealed by a grove of lentisks.

Here a little girl, seven or eight years of age, with rich brown

hair and lustrous dark eyes, beautiful as one of Murillo’s angels,

was peeping shyly through the branches. Apparently discovering nothing

in the aspect of the strangers to excite her apprehensions, the child

suddenly gained confidence, darted forwards with outstretched hands,

and in a voice, soft and melodious as the language which she spoke,

said in Italian:

 

“I like you; you will not hurt me, will you?”

 

“Hurt you, my child?” answered Servadac. “No, indeed;

we will be your friends; we will take care of you.”

 

And after a few moments’ scrutiny of the pretty maiden, he added:

 

“Tell us your name, little one.”

 

“Nina!” was the child’s reply.

 

“Well, then, Nina, can you tell us where we are?”

 

“At Madalena, I think,” said the little girl; “at least, I know I

was there when that dreadful shock came and altered everything.”

 

The count knew that Madalena was close to Caprera, to the north

of Sardinia, which had entirely disappeared in the disaster.

By dint of a series of questions, he gained from the child

a very intelligent account of her experiences. She told him

that she had no parents, and had been employed in taking

care of a flock of goats belonging to one of the landowners,

when one day, all of a sudden, everything around her,

except this little piece of land, had been swallowed up,

and that she and Marzy, her pet goat, had been left quite alone.

She went on to say that at first she had been very frightened;

but when she found that the earth did not shake any more,

she had thanked the great God, and had soon made herself very happy

living with Marzy. She had enough food, she said, and had been

waiting for a boat to fetch her, and now a boat had come and she

was quite ready to go away; only they must let her goat go with her:

they would both like so much to get back to the old farm.

 

“Here, at least, is one nice little inhabitant of Gallia,”

said Captain Servadac, as he caressed the child and conducted

her to the boat.

 

Half an hour later, both Nina and Marzy were safely quartered

on board the yacht. It is needless to say that they received

the heartiest of welcomes. The Russian sailors, ever superstitious,

seemed almost to regard the coming of the child as the appearance

of an angel; and, incredible as it may seem, more than one of them

wondered whether she had wings, and amongst themselves they commonly

referred to her as “the little Madonna.”

 

Soon out of sight of Madalena, the Dobryna for some hours

held a southeasterly course along the shore, which here was

fifty leagues in advance of the former coastline of Italy,

demonstrating that a new continent must have been formed,

substituted as it were for the old peninsula, of which not

a vestige could be identified. At a latitude corresponding

with the latitude of Rome, the sea took the form of a deep gulf,

extending back far beyond the site of the Eternal City;

the coast making a wide sweep round to the former position

of Calabria, and jutting far beyond the outline of “the boot,”

which Italy resembles. But the beacon of Messina was not to

be discerned; no trace, indeed, survived of any portion of Sicily;

the very peak of Etna, 11,000 feet as it had reared itself

above the level of the sea, had vanished utterly.

 

Another sixty leagues to the south, and the Dobryna sighted

the entrance of the strait which had afforded her so providential

a refuge from the tempest, and had conducted her to the fragmentary relic

of Gibraltar. Hence to the Gulf of Cabes had been already explored,

and as it was universally allowed that it was unnecessary to

renew the search in that direction, the lieutenant started off

in a transverse course, towards a point hitherto uninvestigated.

That point was reached on the 3rd of March, and thence the coast

was continuously followed, as it led through what had been Tunis,

across the province of Constantine, away to the oasis of Ziban;

where, taking a sharp turn, it first reached a latitude of 32 degrees,

and then returned again, thus forming a sort of irregular gulf,

enclosed by the same unvarying border of mineral concrete.

This colossal boundary then stretched away for nearly 150 leagues

over the Sahara desert, and, extending to the south of Gourbi Island,

occupied what, if Morocco had still existed, would have been

its natural frontier.

 

Adapting her course to these deviations of the coastline, the Dobryna

was steering northwards, and had barely reached the limit of the bay,

when the attention of all on board was arrested by the phenomenon

of a volcano, at least 3,000 feet high, its crater crowned with smoke,

which occasionally was streaked by tongues of flame.

 

“A burning mountain!” they exclaimed.

 

“Gallia, then, has some internal heat,” said Servadac.

 

“And why not, captain?” rejoined the lieutenant. “If our asteroid

has carried with it a portion of the old earth’s atmosphere,

why should it not likewise retain something of its central fire?”

 

“Ah, well!” said the captain, shrugging his shoulders, “I dare say

there is caloric enough in our little world to supply the wants

of its population.”

 

Count Timascheff interrupted the silence that followed this conversation

by saying, “And now, gentlemen, as our course has brought us on our way once

more towards Gibraltar, what do you say to our renewing our acquaintance

with the Englishmen? They will be interested in the result of our voyage.”

 

“For my part,” said Servadac, “I have no desire that way.

They know where to find Gourbi Island; they can betake themselves

thither just when they please. They have plenty of provisions.

If the water freezes, 120 leagues is no very great distance.

The reception they gave us was not so cordial that we need put

ourselves out of the way to repeat our visit.”

 

“What you say is too true,” replied the count. “I hope we shall show

them better manners when they condescend to visit us.”

 

“Ay,” said Servadac, “we must remember that we are all one people now;

no longer Russian, French, or English. Nationality is extinct.”

 

“I am sadly afraid, however,” continued the count, “that an Englishman

will be an Englishman ever.”

 

“Yes,” said the captain, “that is always their failing.”

 

And thus all further thought of making their way again to the little

garrison of Gibraltar was abandoned.

 

But even if their spirit of courtesy had disposed them to renew their

acquaintance with the British officers, there were two circumstances

that just then would have rendered such a proposal very unadvisable.

In the first place, Lieutenant Procope was convinced that it could not be

much longer now before the sea would be entirely frozen; and, besides this,

the consumption of their coal, through the speed they had maintained,

had been so great that there was only too much reason to fear that fuel

would fail them. Anyhow, the strictest economy was necessary, and it

was accordingly resolved that the voyage should not be much prolonged.

Beyond the volcanic peak, moreover, the waters seemed to expand

into a boundless ocean, and it might be a thing full of risk

to be frozen up while the yacht was so inadequately provisioned.

Taking all these things into account, it was agreed that further

investigations should be deferred to a more favorable season, and that,

without delay, the Dobryna should return to Gourbi Island.

 

This decision was especially welcome to Hector Servadac, who,

throughout the whole of the last five weeks, had been agitated

by much anxious thought on account of the faithful servant

he had left behind.

 

The transit from the volcano to the island was not long,

and was marked by only one noticeable incident.

This was the finding of a second mysterious document,

in character precisely similar to what they had found before.

The writer of it was evidently engaged upon a calculation,

probably continued from day to day, as to the motions of

the planet Gallia upon its orbit, and committing the results

of his reckonings to the waves as the channel of communication.

 

Instead of being enclosed in a telescope-case, it was this

time secured in a preserved-meat tin, hermetically sealed,

and stamped with the same initials on the wax that fastened it.

The greatest care was used in opening it, and it was found

to contain the following message:

 

“Gallia

Ab sole, au 1 mars, dist. 78,000,000 1.!

Chemin parcouru de fev. a mars: 59,000,000 1.!

Va bene! All right! Nil desperandum!

 

Enchante!”

 

“Another enigma!” exclaimed Servadac; “and still no intelligible signature,

and no address. No clearing up of the mystery!”

 

“I have no doubt, in my own mind,” said the count, “that it

is one of a series. It seems to me probable that they are being

sent broadcast upon the sea.”

 

“I wonder where the hare-brained savant that writes them can

be living?” observed Servadac.

 

“Very likely he may have met with the fate of AEsop’s abstracted astronomer,

who found himself at the bottom of a well.”

 

“Ay; but where is that well?” demanded the captain.

 

This was a question which the count was incapable of settling;

and they could only speculate afresh as to whether the author of the

riddles was dwelling upon some solitary island, or, like themselves,

was navigating the waters of the new Mediterranean. But they could

detect nothing to guide them to a definite decision.

 

After thoughtfully regarding the document for some time.

Lieutenant Procope proceeded to observe that he believed the paper

might be considered as genuine, and accordingly, taking its

statements as reliable, he deduced two important conclusions:

first, that whereas, in the month of January, the distance

traveled by the planet (hypothet-ically called Gallia)

had been recorded as 82,000,000 leagues, the distance traveled

in February was only 59,- 000,000 leagues—a difference of

23,000,000 leagues in one month; secondly, that the distance

of the planet from the sun, which on the 15th of February had been

59,000,000 leagues, was on the 1st of March 78,000,000 leagues—

an increase of 19,000,000 leagues in a fortnight.

Thus, in proportion as Gallia receded from the sun, so did

the rate of speed diminish by which she traveled along her orbit;

facts to be observed in perfect conformity with the known laws

of celestial mechanism.

 

“And your inference?” asked the count.

 

“My inference,” replied the lieutenant, “is a confirmation of my surmise

that we are following an orbit decidedly elliptical, although we have not yet

the material to determine its eccentricity.”

 

“As the writer adheres to the appellation of Gallia, do you not think,”

asked the count, “that we might call these new waters the Gallian Sea?”

 

“There can be no reason to the contrary, count,” replied the lieutenant;

“and as such I will insert it upon my new chart.”

 

“Our friend,” said Servadac,