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conjectures to account for the delay.

Perhaps England was engrossed with domestic matters,

or perhaps she was absorbed in diplomatic difficulties;

or perchance, more likely than all, Northern Europe had received

no tidings of the convulsion that had shattered the south.

The whole party throve remarkably well upon the liberal provisions

of the commissariat department, and if the officers failed

to show the same tendency to embonpoint which was fast becoming

characteristic of the men, it was only because they deemed it due

to their rank to curtail any indulgences which might compromise

the fit of their uniform.

 

On the whole, time passed indifferently well. An Englishman rarely suffers

from ennui, and then only in his own country, when required to conform

to what he calls “the humbug of society”; and the two officers, with their

similar tastes, ideas, and dispositions, got on together admirably.

It is not to be questioned that they were deeply affected by a sense

of regret for their lost comrades, and astounded beyond measure at finding

themselves the sole survivors of a garrison of 1,895 men, but with true

British pluck and self-control, they had done nothing more than draw up

a report that 1,882 names were missing from the muster-roll.

 

The island itself, the sole surviving fragment of an enormous pile

of rock that had reared itself some 1,600 feet above the sea,

was not, strictly speaking, the only land that was visible;

for about twelve miles to the south there was another island,

apparently the very counterpart of what was now occupied

by the Englishmen. It was only natural that this should

awaken some interest even in the most imperturbable minds,

and there was no doubt that the two officers, during one of

the rare intervals when they were not absorbed in their game,

had decided that it would be desirable at least to ascertain

whether the island was deserted, or whether it might not be

occupied by some others, like themselves, survivors from

the general catastrophe. Certain it is that one morning,

when the weather was bright and calm, they had embarked alone

in the little boat, and been absent for seven or eight hours.

Not even to Corporal Pim did they communicate the object of

their excursion, nor say one syllable as to its result, and it

could only be inferred from their manner that they were quite

satisfied with what they had seen; and very shortly afterwards

Major Oliphant was observed to draw up a lengthy document,

which was no sooner finished than it was formally signed and

sealed with the seal of the 33rd Regiment. It was directed:

_To the First Lord of the Admiralty,

London,_

and kept in readiness for transmission by the first ship that should

hail in sight. But time elapsed, and here was the l8th of February

without an opportunity having been afforded for any communication

with the British Government.

 

At breakfast that morning, the colonel observed to the major

that he was under the most decided impression that the l8th

of February was a royal anniversary; and he went on to say that,

although he had received no definite instructions on the subject,

he did not think that the peculiar circumstances under which they

found themselves should prevent them from giving the day its

due military honors.

 

The major quite concurred; and it was mutually agreed that the occasion

must be honored by a bumper of port, and by a royal salute.

Corporal Pim must be sent for. The corporal soon made his appearance,

smacking his lips, having, by a ready intuition, found a pretext

for a double morning ration of spirits.

 

“The l8th of February, you know, Pim,” said the colonel;

“we must have a salute of twenty-one guns.”

 

“Very good,” replied Pim, a man of few words.

 

“And take care that your fellows don’t get their arms and legs blown off,”

added the officer.

 

“Very good, sir,” said the corporal; and he made his salute and withdrew.

 

Of all the bombs, howitzers, and various species of artillery with

which the fortress had been crowded, one solitary piece remained.

This was a cumbrous muzzle-loader of 9-inch caliber, and, in default

of the smaller ordnance generally employed for the purpose,

had to be brought into requisition for the royal salute.

 

A sufficient number of charges having been provided, the corporal brought his

men to the reduct, whence the gun’s mouth projected over a sloping embrasure.

The two officers, in cocked hats and full staff uniform, attended to take

charge of the proceedings. The gun was maneuvered in strict accordance

with the rules of “The Artilleryman’s Manual,” and the firing commenced.

 

Not unmindful of the warning he had received, the corporal was most careful

between each discharge to see that every vestige of fire was extinguished,

so as to prevent an untimely explosion while the men were reloading;

and accidents, such as so frequently mar public rejoicings,

were all happily avoided.

 

Much to the chagrin of both Colonel Murphy and Major Oliphant,

the effect of the salute fell altogether short of their anticipations.

The weight of the atmosphere was so reduced that there was

comparatively little resistance to the explosive force of the gases,

liberated at the cannon’s mouth, and there was consequently none

of the reverberation, like rolling thunder, that ordinarily follows

the discharge of heavy artillery.

 

Twenty times had the gun been fired, and it was on the point of being loaded

for the last time, when the colonel laid his hand upon the arm of the man

who had the ramrod. “Stop!” he said; “we will have a ball this time.

Let us put the range of the piece to the test.”

 

“A good idea!” replied the major. “Corporal, you hear the orders.”

 

In quick time an artillery-wagon was on the spot, and the men

lifted out a full-sized shot, weighing 200 lbs., which,

under ordinary circumstances, the cannon would carry about four miles.

It was proposed, by means of telescopes, to note the place

where the ball first touched the water, and thus to obtain

an approximation sufficiently accurate as to the true range.

 

Having been duly charged with powder and ball, the gun was raised to an angle

of something under 45 degrees, so as to allow proper development to the curve

that the projectile would make, and, at a signal from the major, the light

was applied to the priming.

 

“Heavens!” “By all that’s good!” exclaimed both officers

in one breath, as, standing open-mouthed, they hardly knew

whether they were to believe the evidence of their own senses.

“Is it possible?”

 

The diminution of the force of attraction at the earth’s surface

was so considerable that the ball had sped beyond the horizon.

 

“Incredible!” ejaculated the colonel.

 

“Incredible!” echoed the major.

 

“Six miles at least!” observed the one.

 

“Ay, more than that!” replied the other.

 

Awhile, they gazed at the sea and at each other in mute amazement. But in

the midst of their perplexity, what sound was that which startled them?

Was it mere fancy? Was it the reverberation of the cannon still booming

in their ears? Or was it not truly the report of another and a distant

gun in answer to their own? Attentively and eagerly they listened.

Twice, thrice did the sound repeat itself. It was quite distinct.

There could be no mistake.

 

“I told you so,” cried the colonel, triumphantly. “I knew our country

would not forsake us; it is an English ship, no doubt.”

 

In half an hour two masts were visible above the horizon. “See! Was I

not right? Our country was sure to send to our relief.

Here is the ship.”

 

“Yes,” replied the major; “she responded to our gun.”

 

“It is to be hoped,” muttered the corporal, “that our ball has done

her no damage.”

 

Before long the hull was full in sight. A long trail of smoke betokened

her to be a steamer; and very soon, by the aid of the glass, it could

be ascertained that she was a schooner-yacht, and making straight

for the island. A flag at her mast-head fluttered in the breeze,

and towards this the two officers, with the keenest attention,

respectively adjusted their focus.

 

Simultaneously the two telescopes were lowered. The colonel

and the major stared at each other in blank astonishment.

“Russian!” they gasped.

 

And true it was that the flag that floated at the head of yonder mast

was the blue cross of Russia.

CHAPTER XIV

SENSITIVE NATIONALITY

 

When the schooner had approached the island, the Englishmen were able to make

out the name “Dobryna” painted on the aft-board. A sinuous irregularity

of the coast had formed a kind of cove, which, though hardly spacious enough

for a few fishing-smacks, would afford the yacht a temporary anchorage,

so long as the wind did not blow violently from either west or south.

Into this cove the Dobryna was duly signaled, and as soon as she

was safely moored, she lowered her four-oar, and Count Timascheff and

Captain Servadac made their way at once to land.

 

Colonel Heneage Finch Murphy and Major Sir John Temple Oliphant stood,

grave and prim, formally awaiting the arrival of their visitors.

Captain Servadac, with the uncontrolled vivacity natural to a Frenchman,

was the first to speak.

 

“A joyful sight, gentlemen!” he exclaimed. “It will give us unbounded

pleasure to shake hands again with some of our fellow-creatures. You,

no doubt, have escaped the same disaster as ourselves.”

 

But the English officers, neither by word nor gesture, made the slightest

acknowledgment of this familiar greeting.

 

“What news can you give us of France, England, or Russia?” continued Servadac,

perfectly unconscious of the stolid rigidity with which his advances

were received. “We are anxious to hear anything you can tell us.

Have you had communications with Europe? Have you—”

 

“To whom have we the honor of speaking?” at last interposed

Colonel Murphy, in the coldest and most measured tone,

and drawing himself up to his full height.

 

“Ah! how stupid! I forgot,” said Servadac, with the slightest possible

shrug of the shoulders; “we have not been introduced.”

 

Then, with a wave of his hand towards his companion, who meanwhile had

exhibited a reserve hardly less than that of the British officers, he said:

 

“Allow me to introduce you to Count Wassili Timascheff.”

 

” Major Sir John Temple Oliphant,” replied the colonel.

 

The Russian and the Englishman mutually exchanged the stiffest of bows.

 

“I have the pleasure of introducing Captain Servadac,”

said the count in his turn.

 

“And this is Colonel Heneage Finch Murphy,” was the major’s grave rejoinder.

 

More bows were interchanged and the ceremony brought to its due conclusion.

It need hardly be said that the conversation had been carried on in French,

a language which is generally known both by Russians and Englishmen—

a circumstance that is probably in some measure to be accounted for by

the refusal of Frenchmen to learn either Russian or English.

 

The formal preliminaries of etiquette being thus complete,

there was no longer any obstacle to a freer intercourse.

The colonel, signing to his guests to follow, led the way

to the apartment occupied jointly by himself and the major,

which, although only a kind of casemate hollowed in the rock,

nevertheless wore a general air of comfort. Major Oliphant

accompanied them, and all four having taken their seats,

the conversation was commenced.

 

Irritated and disgusted at all the cold formalities,

Hector Servadac resolved to leave all the talking to the count;

and he, quite aware that the Englishmen would adhere to the fiction

that they could be supposed to know nothing that had transpired

previous to the introduction

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