The Voyages and Adventures of Captain Hatteras. Жюль Верн

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ he's on board now," answered the doctor, simply.

      "Now!" exclaimed Shandon, "what do you mean?"

      "How else can you explain the arrival of this letter?"

      Johnson nodded approvingly.

      "Impossible!" said Shandon, warmly. "I know all the men in the crew; can he have smuggled himself into their number since we left? It's impossible, I tell you. For more than two years I've seen every one of them more than a hundred times in Liverpool; so your conjecture, Doctor, is untenable."

      "Well, what do you admit, Shandon?"

      "Everything, except that. I admit that the captain or some tool of his, for all I know, may have taken advantage of the darkness, the mist, or whatever you please, to slip on board; we are not far from shore; there are the kayaks of the Esquimaux which could get through the ice without our seeing them; so some one may have come on board the ship, left the letter, – the fog was thick enough to make this possible."

      "And to prevent them from seeing the brig," answered the doctor; "if we didn't see the intruder slip aboard the Forward, how could he see the Forward in the fog?"

      "That's true," said Johnson.

      "So I return to my explanation," said the doctor; "what do you think of it, Shandon?"

      "Whatever you please," answered Shandon, hotly, "except that the man is on board."

      "Perhaps," added Wall, "there is some man in the crew who is acting under his instructions."

      "Perhaps," said the doctor.

      "But who can it be?" asked Shandon. "I've known all my men for a long time."

      "At any rate," resumed Johnson, "if this captain presents himself, whether as man or devil, we shall receive him; but there's something else to be drawn from this letter."

      "What is that?" asked Shandon.

      "It is that we must go not only into Melville Bay, but also into Smith's Sound."

      "You are right," said the doctor.

      "Smith's Sound," repeated Shandon, mechanically.

      "So it's very plain," continued Johnson, "that the Forward is not intended to seek the Northwest Passage, since we leave to the left, the only way towards it, that is to say, Lancaster Sound. This would seem to promise a difficult journey in unknown seas."

      "Yes, Smith's Sound," replied Shandon; "that's the route Kane, the American, took in 1853, and it was full of dangers. For a long time he was given up for lost. Well, if we must go, we'll go. But how far? To the Pole?"

      "And why not?" cried the doctor.

      The mention of such a foolhardy attempt made the boatswain shrug his shoulders.

      "Well," said James Wall, "to come back to the captain, if he exists. I don't see that there are any places on the coast of Greenland except Disco and Upernavik, where he can be waiting for us; in a few days that question will be settled."

      "But," asked the doctor of Shandon, "are you not going to tell the crew about this letter?"

      "With the commander's permission," answered Johnson, "I should not do so."

      "And why not?" asked Shandon.

      "Because everything mysterious and extraordinary tends to discourage the men; they are already very much troubled, as it is, about the nature of the journey. Now, if any supernatural circumstances should become known, it might be harmful, and perhaps at a critical moment we should not be able to count on them. What do you think, Commander?"

      "And what do you think, Doctor?" asked Shandon.

      "Boatswain Johnson seems to me to reason well," answered the doctor.

      "And you, James?"

      "Having no better opinion, I agree with these gentlemen."

      Shandon reflected for a few minutes; he reread the letter attentively.

      "Gentlemen," said he, "your opinion is certainly worthy of respect, but I cannot adopt it."

      "Why not, Shandon?" asked the doctor.

      "Because the instructions in this letter are formal; it tells me to give the captain's thanks to the crew; now, hitherto I have strictly obeyed his orders, in whatever way they have been given to me, and I cannot – "

      "Still – " interposed Johnson, who had a warrantable dread of the effect of such communications on the men's spirits.

      "My dear Johnson," said Shandon, "I understand your objection; your reasons are very good, but read that: —

      "He begs of you to express his thanks to the crew."

      "Do as he bids," replied Johnson, who was always a strict disciplinarian. "Shall I assemble the crew on deck?"

      "Yes," answered Shandon.

      The news of a message from the captain was immediately whispered throughout the ship. The sailors took their station without delay, and the commander read aloud the mysterious letter.

      It was received with dead silence; the crew separated under the influence of a thousand suppositions; Clifton had plenty of material for any superstitious vagaries; a great deal was ascribed by him to the dog-captain, and he never failed to salute him every time he met him.

      "Didn't I tell you," he used to say to the sailors, "that he knew how to write?"

      No one made any answer, and even Bell, the carpenter, would have found it hard to reply.

      Nevertheless, it was plain to every one, that if the captain was not on board, his shade or spirit was watching them; henceforth, the wisest kept their opinions to themselves.

      At midday of May 1st, their observation showed them that they were in latitude 68° and longitude 56° 32'. The temperature had risen, the thermometer standing at 25° above zero.

      The doctor amused himself with watching the gambols of a she-bear and two cubs on some pack-ice near the shore. Accompanied by Wall and Simpson, he tried to chase them in a canoe; but she was in a very peaceful mood, and ran away with her young, so that the doctor had to give up his attempt.

      During the night a favorable breeze carried them well to the north, and soon the lofty mountains of Disco were peering above the horizon; Godharn Bay, where the governor of the Danish settlements lived, was left on the right. Shandon did not consider it necessary to land, and he soon passed by the canoes of the Esquimaux, who had put out to meet him.

      The island of Disco is also called Whale Island; it is from here that, on the 12th of July, 1845, Sir John Franklin wrote to the Admiralty for the last time, and it was also here that Captain MacClintock stopped on his way back, bringing too sure proofs of the loss of that expedition.

      This coincidence was not unknown to the doctor; the place was one of sad memories, but soon the heights of Disco were lost to view.

      There were many icebergs on its shores, which no thaws ever melt away; this gives the island a singular appearance from the sea.

      The next day, at about three o'clock, СКАЧАТЬ