Off on a Comet by Jules Verne (great books for teens txt) 📖

CHAPTER XIII

A ROYAL SALUTE

 

“Then I take your bishop, major,” said Colonel Murphy, as he made

a move that he had taken since the previous evening to consider.

 

“I was afraid you would,” replied Major Oliphant, looking intently

at the chessboard.

 

Such was the way in which a long silence was broken on the morning

of the 17th of February by the old calendar.

 

Another day elapsed before another move was made. It was a protracted game;

it had, in fact, already lasted some months—the players being so deliberate,

and so fearful of taking a step without the most mature consideration,

that even now they were only making the twentieth move.

 

Both of them, moreover, were rigid disciples of the renowned Philidor,

who pronounces that to play the pawns well is “the soul of chess”;

and, accordingly, not one pawn had been sacrificed without

a most vigorous defense.

 

The men who were thus beguiling their leisure were two

officers in the British army—Colonel Heneage Finch Murphy

and Major Sir John Temple Oliphant. Remarkably similar in

personal appearance, they were hardly less so in personal character.

Both of them were about forty years of age; both of them were tall

and fair, with bushy whiskers and mustaches; both of them were

phlegmatic in temperament, and both much addicted to the wearing

of their uniforms. They were proud of their nationality, and exhibited

a manifest dislike, verging upon contempt, of everything foreign.

Probably they would have felt no surprise if they had been told

that Anglo-Saxons were fashioned out of some specific clay,

the properties of which surpassed the investigation of chemical analysis.

Without any intentional disparagement they might, in a certain way,

be compared to two scarecrows which, though perfectly harmless

in themselves, inspire some measure of respect, and are excellently

adapted to protect the territory intrusted to their guardianship.

 

English-like, the two officers had made themselves thoroughly at home

in the station abroad in which it had been their lot to be quartered.

The faculty of colonization seems to be indigenous to the native character;

once let an Englishman plant his national standard on the surface of the moon,

and it would not be long before a colony was established round it.

 

The officers had a servant, named Kirke, and a company of ten

soldiers of the line. This party of thirteen men were apparently

the sole survivors of an overwhelming catastrophe, which on the 1st

of January had transformed an enormous rock, garrisoned with well-nigh

two thousand troops, into an insignificant island far out to sea.

But although the transformation had been so marvelous, it cannot

be said that either Colonel Murphy or Major Oliphant had made much

demonstration of astonishment.

 

“This is all very peculiar, Sir John,” observed the colonel.

 

“Yes, colonel; very peculiar,” replied the major.

 

“England will be sure to send for us,” said one officer.

 

“No doubt she will,” answered the other.

 

Accordingly, they came to the mutual resolution that they would

“stick to their post.”

 

To say the truth, it would have been a difficult matter for

the gallant officers to do otherwise; they had but one small boat;

therefore, it was well that they made a virtue of necessity,

and resigned themselves to patient expectation of the British

ship which, in due time, would bring relief.

 

They had no fear of starvation. Their island was mined with subterranean

stores, more than ample for thirteen men—nay, for thirteen Englishmen—

for the next five years at least. Preserved meat, ale, brandy—all were

in abundance; consequently, as the men expressed it, they were in this

respect “all right.”

 

Of course, the physical changes that had taken place had attracted the notice

both of officers and men. But the reversed position of east and west,

the diminution of the force of gravity, the altered rotation of the earth,

and her projection upon a new orbit, were all things that gave them little

concern and no uneasiness; and when the colonel and the major had replaced

the pieces on the board which had been disturbed by the convulsion,

any surprise they might have felt at the chess-men losing some portion

of their weight was quite forgotten in the satisfaction of seeing them

retain their equilibrium.

 

One phenomenon, however, did not fail to make its due impression upon

the men; this was the diminution in the length of day and night.

Three days after the catastrophe, Corporal Pim, on behalf of himself

and his comrades, solicited a formal interview with the officers.

The request having been granted, Pim, with the nine soldiers,

all punctiliously wearing the regimental tunic of scarlet and trousers

of invisible green, presented themselves at the door of the colonel’s room,

where he and his brother-officer were continuing their game.

Raising his hand respectfully to his cap, which he wore poised jauntily

over his right ear, and scarcely held on by the strap below his under lip,

the corporal waited permission to speak.

 

After a lingering survey of the chessboard, the colonel slowly

lifted his eyes, and said with official dignity, “Well, men,

what is it?”

 

“First of all, sir,” replied the corporal, “we want to speak to you

about our pay, and then we wish to have a word with the major

about our rations.”

 

“Say on, then,” said Colonel Murphy. “What is it about your pay?”

 

“Just this, sir; as the days are only half as long as they were,

we should like to know whether our pay is to be diminished in proportion.”

 

The colonel was taken somewhat aback, and did not reply immediately,

though by some significant nods towards the major,

he indicated that he thought the question very reasonable.

After a few moments’ reflection, he replied, “It must, I think,

be allowed that your pay was calculated from sunrise to sunrise;

there was no specification of what the interval should be.

Your pay will continue as before. England can afford it.”

 

A buzz of approval burst involuntarily from all the men, but military

discipline and the respect due to their officers kept them in check

from any boisterous demonstration of their satisfaction.

 

“And now, corporal, what is your business with me?” asked Major Oliphant.

 

“We want to know whether, as the days are only six hours long,

we are to have but two meals instead of four?”

 

The officers looked at each other, and by their glances agreed

that the corporal was a man of sound common sense.

 

“Eccentricities of nature,” said the major, “cannot interfere with

military regulations. It is true that there will be but an interval

of an hour and a half between them, but the rule stands good—

four meals a day. England is too rich to grudge her soldiers any

of her soldiers’ due. Yes; four meals a day.”

 

“Hurrah!” shouted the soldiers, unable this time to keep their delight

within the bounds of military decorum; and, turning to the right-about,

they marched away, leaving the officers to renew the all-absorbing game.

 

However confident everyone upon the island might profess

to be that succor would be sent them from their native land—

for Britain never abandons any of her sons—it could not be disguised

that that succor was somewhat tardy in making its appearance.

Many and various were the