Читать книгу Пятнадцатилетний капитан / Dick Sand. A Captain at Fifteen. Уровень 2 - Жюль Верн, Жуль Верн - Страница 13

The wind now increased to a hurricane; it veered to the south-west, and attained a velocity of ninety miles an hour. The progress of the schooner was prodigiously rapid; sometimes, indeed, it was literally lifted from the water.

The rolling was fearful. Enormous waves travelled faster than the ship. Dick lashed himself to his place at the wheel by a rope round his waist. Tom and Bat were ready to give him assistance, in case of emergency. Mrs. Weldon remained inside the stern cabin.

The hatchways were hermetically closed. Tom and Bat were left alone at the wheel. To their surprise, Negoro joined them. He inclined to enter into conversation, but found Tom and his son did not answer him. All at once a violent roll of the ship threw him off his feet, and he fell against the binnacle.

Old Tom uttered a cry of consternation so loud that it roused Dick from the light slumber in the cabin, and he rushed to the deck. Negoro regained his feet, and managed successfully to extract the bit of iron from beneath the binnacle. Then he threw it away.

“What’s the matter?” asked Dick; “what is the meaning of all this noise?”

Tom said that the cook fell against the binnacle. Was the compass injured? Dick knelt down to examine its condition. Happily, the instrument had no damage. But Dick was quite unconscious of the removal of the bit of iron. The incident, however, excited his misgiving. The very presence of Negoro in such a place at such a time perplexed him.

“And what brings you here, this hour of the night?” he asked.

“That’s not your business”, retorted Negoro insolently.

“It is my business,” replied Dick resolutely; “and I need an answer; what brought you here?”

“I go where I like and when I like”, answered Negoro. “There is no rule that forbids it.”

“No rule!” cried Dick; “then I make the rule now. From this time forward, I make the rule that you never come astern. Do you understand?”

Negoro made a threatening movement. Quick as lightning, Dick Sand drew a revolver from his pocket.

“Negoro, one act, one word of insubordination, and I blow out your brains!”

Negoro had no time to reply. Hercules grasped him by the shoulder.

“Maybe to put him overboard, captain?” said the negro, with a grin of contempt.

“Not yet,” quietly answered Dick.

The giant removed his hand, and Negoro stood upright again, and began to retreat to his own quarters, muttering, however, as he passed Hercules,

“You will pay for this!”

The young captain could not shake off the suspicion that Negoro was concerned in the loss of the first compass, and had some further designs upon the second. But what possible motive could that man have?

A week passed, and the barometer continued to fall. The “Pilgrim” still made its way northeast. Its speed could not be less than two hundred miles in twenty-four hours. But no land appeared. Dick was perpetually asking himself: was he sailing in a wrong direction?

But no: he was convinced there was no error in his steering. But where is America? Where were they? Why did not the expected coast appear?

To all these bewildering inquiries Dick could find no answer. He studied his chart; but all in vain.

One morning about eight o’clock, Hercules suddenly shouted,

“Land!”

Dick Sand hurried forward to the bow.

“Where’s the land?” he cried.

“There! Look there!” said Hercules, nodding his head and pointing to the north-east.

Dick could see nothing.

Mrs. Weldon heard the shout. She left her cabin. She scanned the horizon in the direction indicated by Hercules. But all to no purpose.

Suddenly, however, after a while, Dick raised his hand.

“Yes!” he said; “yes; sure enough, yonder is land.”

Mrs. Weldon strained her eyes yet more vehemently. Beyond a doubt an elevated peak was there. It was about ten miles to leeward. Dick went back to the wheel. Here was the land!

Negoro appeared on deck; he nodded to the peak familiarly, and retired.

Two hours later, Dick Sand failed to discover any further indications of a coast-line. His only increased; the horizon was clear. Dick took up his telescope again and again; but there was nothing. No indication of the shore.

Dick Sand uttered a sigh of mingled amazement and relief. He went into Mrs. Weldon’s cabin.

“It was only an island!” he said; “only an island!”

“How? Why? What island? What do you mean?” cried Mrs. Weldon incredulously; “what island can it be?”

“The chart perhaps will tell us,” replied Dick; and hurried off to his own cabin. Then he immediately returned with the chart in his hands.

“There, Mrs. Weldon; the land, I suppose it is that little speck in the midst of the Pacific. It must be Easter Island[22].”

“And do you say,” inquired Mrs. Weldon, “that it is behind us?”

“Yes, entirely.”

“How far is this,” she said Mrs. Weldon; “how far is this from the coast of America?”

“Thirty-five degrees,” answered Dick; “somewhere about 2500 miles.”

“What do you mean?” rejoined the lady astonished; “we made no progress at all! Impossible!”

Dick passed his hand across his brow. He did not know what to say. After an interval of silence, he said,

“I can’t explain this strange delay. It is inexplicable to myself. Maybe the readings of the compass are wrong. But at least we know where we really are. If this hurricane ceases, we will be on our proper course to the shores of America.”