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Authors: Jules Verne

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BOOK: An Antarctic Mystery
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"Your captain is in a remarkable hurry!" said Governor Glass.

"You think so?"

"He is in such haste that his lieutenant does not even talk of
buying skins or oil from me."

"We require only fresh victuals and fresh water, Mr. Glass."

"Very well," replied the Governor, who was rather annoyed,
"what the
Halbrane
will not take other vessels will."

Then he resumed,—

"And where is your schooner bound for on leaving us?"

"For the Falklands, no doubt, where she can be repaired."

"You, sir, are only a passenger, I suppose?"

"As you say, Mr. Glass, and I had even intended to remain at
Tristan d'Acunha for some weeks. But I have had to relinquish that
project."

"I am sorry to hear it, sir. We should have been happy to offer
you hospitality while awaiting the arrival of another ship."

"Such hospitality would have been most valuable to me," I
replied, "but unfortunately I cannot avail myself of it."

In fact, I had finally resolved not to quit the schooner, but to
embark for America from the Falkland Isles with out much delay. I
felt sure that Captain Len Guy would not refuse to take me to the
islands. I informed Mr. Glass of my intention, and he remarked,
still in a tone of annoyance,—

"As for your captain, I have not even seen the colour of his
hair."

"I don't think he has any intention of coming ashore."

"Is he ill?"

"Not to my knowledge. But it does not concern you, since he has
sent his lieutenant to represent him."

"Oh, he's a cheerful person! One may extract two words from him
occasionally. Fortunately, it is easier to get coin out of his
pocket than speech out of his lips."

"That's the important thing, Mr. Glass."

"You are right, sir—Mr. Jeorling, of Connecticut, I believe?"

I assented.

"So! I know your name, while I have yet to learn that of the
captain of the
Halbrane
."

"His name is Guy—Len Guy."

"An Englishman?"

"Yes—an Englishman."

"He might have taken the trouble to pay a visit to a countryman of
his, Mr. Jeorling! But stay! I had some dealings formerly with a
captain of that name. Guy, Guy—"

"William Guy?" I asked, quickly.

"Precisely. William Guy."

"Who commanded the
Jane
?"

"The
Jane
? Yes. The same man."

"An English schooner which put in at Tristan d'Acunha eleven
years ago?"

"Eleven years, Mr. Jeorling. I had been settled in the island
where Captain Jeffrey, of the
Berwick
, of London, found me in the
year 1824, for full seven years. I perfectly recall this William
Guy, as if he were before me. He was a fine, open-hearted fellow,
and I sold him a cargo of seal-skins. He had the air of a gentleman,
rather proud, but good-natured."

"And the
Jane
!"

"I can see her now at her moorings in the same place as the
Halbrane
. She was a handsome vessel of one hundred and eighty tons,
very slender for'ards. She belonged to the port of Liverpool."

"Yes; that is true, all that is true."

"And is the
Jane
still afloat, Mr. Jeorling?"

"No, Mr. Glass."

"Was she lost?"

"The fact is only too true, and the greater part of her crew with
her."

"Will you tell me how this happened?"

"Willingly. On leaving Tristan d'Acunha the
Jane
headed for the
bearings of the Aurora and other islands, which William Guy hoped to
recognize from information—"

"That came from me," interrupted the ex-corporal. "And those
other islands, may I learn whether the
Jane
discovered them?"

"No, nor the Auroras either, although William Guy remained several
weeks in those waters, running from east to west, with a look-out
always at the masthead."

"He must have lost his bearings, Mr. Jeorling, for, if several
whalers, who were well deserving of credit, are to be believed,
these islands do exist, and it was even proposed to give them my
name."

"That would have been but just," I replied politely. "It will
be very vexatious if they are not discovered some day," added the
Governor, in a tone which indicated that he was not devoid of vanity.

"It was then," I resumed, "that Captain Guy resolved to carry
out a project he had long cherished, and in which he was encouraged
by a certain passenger who was on board the
Jane
—"

"Arthur Gordon Pym," exclaimed Glass, "and his companion, one
Dirk Peters; the two had been picked up at sea by the schooner."

"You knew them, Mr. Glass?" I asked eagerly.

"Knew them, Mr. Jeorling? I should think I did, indeed! That
Arthur Pym was a strange person, always wanting to rush into
adventures—a real rash American, quite capable of starting off to
the moon! Has he gone there at last?"

"No, not quite, Mr. Glass, but, during her voyage, the schooner,
it seems, did clear the polar circle, and pass the ice-wall. She got
farther than any ship had ever done before."

"What a wonderful feat!"

"Yes. Unfortunately, the
Jane
did not return. Arthur Pym and
William Guy escaped the doom of the
Jane
and the most of her crew.
They even got back to America, how I do not know. Afterwards Arthur
Pym died, but under what circumstances I am ignorant. As for the
half-breed, after having retired to Illinois, he went off one day
without a word to anyone and no trace of him has been found."

"And William Guy?" asked Mr. Glass.

I related the finding of the body of Patterson, the mate of the
Jane
, and I added that everything led to the belief that the captain
of the
Jane
and five of his companions were still living on an
island in the austral regions, at less than six degrees from the
Pole.

"Ah, Mr. Jeorling," cried Glass, "if some day William Guy and
his sailors might be saved! They seemed to me to be such fine
fellows."

"That is just what the
Halbrane
is certainly going to attempt, so
soon as she is ready, for her captain, Len Guy, is William Guy's
own brother."

"Is it possible? Well, although I do not know Captain Len Guy, I
venture to assert that the brothers do not resemble each other—at
least in their behaviour to the Governor of Tristan d'Acunha!"

It was plain that the Governor was profoundly mortified, but no
doubt he consoled himself by the prospect of selling his goods at
twenty-five per cent above their value.

One thing was certain: Captain Len Guy had no intention of coming
ashore. This was the more singular, inasmuch as he could not be
unaware that the
Jane
had put in at Tristan d'Acunha before
proceeding to the southern seas. Surely he might be expected to put
himself in communication with the last European who had shaken hands
with his brother!

Nevertheless, Captain Len Guy remained persistently on board his
ship, without even going on deck; and, looking through the glass
skylight of his cabin, I saw him perpetually stooping over the
table, which was covered with open books and out-spread charts. No
doubt the charts were those of the austral latitudes, and the books
were narratives of the precursors of the
Jane
in those mysterious
regions of the south.

On the table lay also a volume which had been read and re-read a
hundred times. Most of its pages were dogs'-eared and their
margins were filled with pencilled notes. And on the cover shone the
title in brightly gilded letters:

THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR GORDON PYM.

Chapter VIII - Bound for the Falklands
*

On the 8th of September, in the evening, I had taken leave of His
Excellency the Governor-General of the Archipelago of Tristan
d'Acunha—for such is the official title bestowed upon himself by
that excellent fellow, Glass, ex-corporal of artillery in the
British Army. On the following day, before dawn, the
Halbrane
sailed.

After we had rounded Herald Point, the few houses of Ansiedlung
disappeared behind the extremity of Falmouth Bay. A fine breeze from
the east carried us along gaily.

During the morning we left behind us in succession Elephant Bay,
Hardy Rock, West Point, Cotton Bay, and Daly's Promontory; but it
took the entire day to lose sight of the volcano of Tristan
d'Acunha, which is eight thousand feet high; its snow-clad bulk
was at last veiled by the shades of evening.

During that week our voyage proceeded under the most favourable
conditions; if these were maintained, the end of the month of
September ought to bring us within sight of the first peaks of the
Falkland Group; and so, very sensibly towards the south; the
schooner having descended from the thirty-eighth parallel to the
fifty-fifth degree of latitude.

The most daring, or, perhaps I ought to say, the most lucky of those
discoverers who had preceded the
Halbrane
, under the command of
Captain Len Guy, in the Antarctic seas, had not gone beyond—Kemp,
the sixty-sixth parallel; Ballerry, the sixty-seventh; Biscoe, the
sixty-eighth; Bellinghausen and Morrell, the seventieth; Cook, the
seventy-first; Weddell, the seventy-fourth. And it was beyond the
eighty-third, nearly five hundred and fifty miles farther, that we
must go to the succour of the survivors of the
Jane
!

I confess that for a practical man of unimaginative temperament, I
felt strangely excited; a nervous restlessness had taken possession
of me. I was haunted by the figures of Arthur Pym and his
companions, lost in Antarctic ice-deserts. I began to feel a desire
to take part in the proposed undertaking of Captain Len Guy. I
thought about it incessantly. As a fact there was nothing to recall
me to America. It is true that whether I should get the consent of
the commander of the
Halbrane
remained to be seen; but, after all,
why should he refuse to keep me as a passenger? Would it not be a
very "human" satisfaction to him to give me material proof that
he was in the right, by taking me to the very scene of a catastrophe
that I had regarded as fictitious, showing me the remains of the
Jane
at Tsalal, and landing me on that selfsame island which I had
declared to be a myth?

Nevertheless, I resolved to wait, before I came to any definite
determination, until an opportunity of speaking to the captain
should arise.

After an interval of unfavourable weather, during which the
Halbrane
made but slow progress, on the 4th of October, in the morning, the
aspect of the sky and the sea underwent a marked change. The wind
became calm, the waves abated, and the next day the breeze veered to
the north-west. This was very favourable to us, and in ten days,
with a continuance of such fortunate conditions, we might hope to
reach the Falklands.

It was on the 11th that the opportunity of an explanation with
Captain Len Guy was presented to me, and by himself, for he came out
of his cabin, advanced to the side of the ship where I was seated,
and took his place at my side.

Evidently he wished to talk to me, and of what, if not the subject
which entirely absorbed him? He began by saying:

"I have not yet had the pleasure of a chat with you, Mr. Jeorling,
since our departure from Tristan d'Acunha!"

"To my regret, captain," I replied, but with reserve, for I
wanted him to make the running.

"I beg you to excuse me," he resumed, "I have so many things
to occupy me and make me anxious. A plan of campaign to organize, in
which nothing must be unforeseen or unprovided for. I beg you not to
be displeased with me—"

"I am not, I assure you."

"That is all right, Mr. Jeorling; and now that I know you, that I
am able to appreciate you, I congratulate myself upon having you for
a passenger until our arrival at the Falklands."

"I am very grateful, captain, for what you have done for me, and I
feel encouraged to—"

The moment seemed propitious to my making my proposal, when Captain
Len Guy interrupted me.

"Well, Mr. Jeorling," he asked, "are you now convinced of the
reality of the voyage of the
Jane
, or do you still regard Edgar
Poe's book as a work of pure imagination?"

"I do not so regard it, captain."

"You no longer doubt that Arthur Pym and Dirk Peters have really
existed, or that my brother William Guy and five of his companions
are living?"

"I should be the most incredulous of men, captain, to doubt either
fact, and my earnest desire is that the favour of Heaven may attend
you and secure the safety of the shipwrecked mariners of the
Jane
."

"I will do all in my power, Mr. Jeorling, and by the blessing of
God I shall succeed."

"I hope so, captain. Indeed, I am certain it will be so, and if
you consent—"

"Is it not the case that you talked of this matter with one Glass,
an English ex-corporal, who sets up to be Governor of Tristan
d'Acunha?" inquired the captain, without allowing me to finish
my sentence.

"That is so," I replied, "and what I learned from Glass has
contributed not a little to change my doubts into certainty."

"Ah I he has satisfied you?"

"Yes. He perfectly remembers to have seen the
Jane
, eleven years
ago, when she had put in at Tristan d'Acunha."

"The
Jane
—and my brother?"

"He told me that he had personal dealings with Captain William
Guy."

"And he traded with the
Jane
?"

"Yes, as he has just been trading with the
Halbrane
."

"She was moored in this bay?"

"In the same place as your schooner."

"And—Arthur Pym—Dirk Peters?"

"He was with them frequently."

"Did he ask what had become of them?"

BOOK: An Antarctic Mystery
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