The Mysterious Island, Jules Verne [freenovel24 txt] 📗
- Author: Jules Verne
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The struggle was short. This man, whose strength and agility was prodigious, seized the jaguar by the throat in a vice-like grip, and, not heeding the claws of the beast tearing his flesh, he thrust his knife into its heart.
The jaguar fell, and the Unknown was about turning to go away, when the colonists came up, and Herbert, catching hold of him, exclaimed:—
“No, no, you must not leave us!”
Smith walked towards the man, who frowned at his approach. The blood was flowing from a wound in his shoulder, but he did not heed it.
“My friend,” said Smith, “we are in your debt. You have risked your life to save our boy.”
“My life,” murmured the Unknown; “what is it worth? less than nothing.”
“You are wounded?”
“That does not matter.”
“Will you not shake hands with me?” asked Herbert.
But on the lad’s seeking to take his hand, the Unknown folded his arms, his chest heaved, and he looked about as if he wished to escape; but, making a violent effort at self-control, and in a gruff voice:—
“Who are you?” he asked, “and what are you going to do with me?”
It was their history that he thus asked for, for the first time. Perhaps, if that was related, he would tell his own. So Smith, in a few words, recounted all that had happened since their departure from Richmond; how they had succeeded, and the resources now at their disposal.
The Unknown listened with the utmost attention.
Then Smith told him who they all were, Spilett, Herbert, Pencroff, Neb, himself, and he added that the greatest happiness that had come to them since their arrival on Lincoln Island was on their return from the islet, when they could count one more companion.
At these words the other colored up, and bowing his head, seemed greatly agitated.
“And now that you know us,” asked Smith, “will you give us your hand?”
“No,” answered the Unknown in a hoarse voice; “no! You are honest men. But I—”
XXXIXAlways apart—A bequest of the Unknown’s—The farm established at the corral—Twelve years—The boatswain’s mate of the Britannia—Left on Tabor Island—The hand of Smith—The mysterious paper.
These last events justified the presentiments of the colonists. There was some terrible past in the life of this man, expiated, perhaps, in the eyes of men, but which his conscience still held unabsolved. At any rate, he felt remorse; he had repented, and his new friends would have cordially grasped that hand, but he did not feel himself worthy to offer it to honest men. Nevertheless, after the struggle with the jaguar, he did not go back to the forest, but remained within the bounds of Granite House.
What was the mystery of this life? Would he speak of it someday? The colonists thought so, but they agreed that, under no circumstances, would they ask him for his secret; and, in the meantime, to associate with him as if they suspected nothing.
For some days everything went on as usual. Smith and Spilett worked together, sometimes as chemists, sometimes as physicists, the reporter never leaving the engineer, except to hunt with Herbert, as it was not prudent to allow the young lad to traverse the forest alone. As to Neb and Pencroff, the work in the stables and poultry-yard, or at the corral, besides the chores about Granite House, kept them busy.
The Unknown worked apart from the others. He had gone back to his former habit of taking no share in the meals, of sleeping under the trees, of having nothing to do with his companions. It seemed, indeed, as if the society of those who had saved him was intolerable.
“But why, then,” asked Pencroff, “did he seek succor from his fellow-creatures; why did he throw this paper in the sea?”
“He will tell us everything,” was Smith’s invariable answer.
“But when?”
“Perhaps sooner than you think, Pencroff.”
And, indeed, on the 10th of December, a week after his return to Granite House, the Unknown accosted the engineer and in a quiet humble voice said:—
“Sir, I have a request to make.”
“Speak,” replied the engineer, “but, first, let me ask you a question.”
At these words the Unknown colored and drew back. Smith saw what was passing in the mind of the culprit, who feared, doubtless, that the engineer would question him upon his past.
Smith took him by the hand.
“Comrade,” said he, “we are not only companions, we are friends. I wanted to say this to you first, now I will listen.”
The Unknown covered his eyes with his hand; a sort of tremor seized him, and for some moments he was unable to articulate a word.
“Sir,” said he, at length, “I came to implore a favor from you.”
“What is it?”
“You have, four or five miles from here, at the foot of the mountain, a corral for your animals. These require looking after. Will you permit me to live over there with them?”
Smith regarded the unhappy man for some time, with deep commiseration. Then:—
“My friend,” said he, “the corral has nothing but sheds, only fit for the animals—”
“It will be good enough, for me, sir.”
“My friend,” replied Smith, “we will never thwart you in anything. If you wish to live in the corral, you may; nevertheless, you will always be welcome at Granite House. But since you desire to stay at the corral, we will do what is necessary to make you comfortable.”
“Never mind about that, I will get along well enough.”
“My friend,” responded Smith, who persisted in the use of this cordial title, “you must let us be the judges in that matter.”
The Unknown thanked the engineer and went away. And Smith, having told his companions of the proposition that had been made, they decided to build a log house at the corral, and to make it as comfortable as possible.
The same day the colonists went, with the necessary tools, to the
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