Off on a Comet (13 page)

"No, colonel, I am quite certain of my reckonings; and not only can
I testify that Malta has disappeared, but I can affirm that a large
section of the Mediterranean has been closed in by a new continent.
After the most anxious investigation, we could discover only one narrow
opening in all the coast, and it is by following that little channel
that we have made our way hither. England, I fear, has suffered
grievously by the late catastrophe. Not only has Malta been entirely
lost, but of the Ionian Islands that were under England's protection,
there seems to be but little left."

"Ay, you may depend upon it," said Servadac, breaking in upon the
conversation petulantly, "your grand resident lord high commissioner has
not much to congratulate himself about in the condition of Corfu."

The Englishmen were mystified.

"Corfu, did you say?" asked Major Oliphant.

"Yes, Corfu; I said Corfu," replied Servadac, with a sort of malicious
triumph.

The officers were speechless with astonishment.

The silence of bewilderment was broken at length by Count Timascheff
making inquiry whether nothing had been heard from England, either by
telegraph or by any passing ship.

"No," said the colonel; "not a ship has passed; and the cable is
broken."

"But do not the Italian telegraphs assist you?" continued the count.

"Italian! I do not comprehend you. You must mean the Spanish, surely."

"How?" demanded Timascheff.

"Confound it!" cried the impatient Servadac. "What matters whether it be
Spanish or Italian? Tell us, have you had no communication at all from
Europe?—no news of any sort from London?"

"Hitherto, none whatever," replied the colonel; adding with a stately
emphasis, "but we shall be sure to have tidings from England before
long."

"Whether England is still in existence or not, I suppose," said
Servadac, in a tone of irony.

The Englishmen started simultaneously to their feet.

"England in existence?" the colonel cried. "England! Ten times more
probable that France—"

"France!" shouted Servadac in a passion. "France is not an island that
can be submerged; France is an integral portion of a solid continent.
France, at least, is safe."

A scene appeared inevitable, and Count Timascheff's efforts to
conciliate the excited parties were of small avail.

"You are at home here," said Servadac, with as much calmness as he
could command; "it will be advisable, I think, for this discussion to
be carried on in the open air." And hurriedly he left the room. Followed
immediately by the others, he led the way to a level piece of ground,
which he considered he might fairly claim as neutral territory.

"Now, gentlemen," he began haughtily, "permit me to represent that,
in spite of any loss France may have sustained in the fate of Algeria,
France is ready to answer any provocation that affects her honor. Here I
am the representative of my country, and here, on neutral ground—"

"Neutral ground?" objected Colonel Murphy; "I beg your pardon. This,
Captain Servadac, is English territory. Do you not see the English
flag?" and, as he spoke, he pointed with national pride to the British
standard floating over the top of the island.

"Pshaw!" cried Servadac, with a contemptuous sneer; "that flag, you
know, has been hoisted but a few short weeks."

"That flag has floated where it is for ages," asserted the colonel.

"An imposture!" shouted Servadac, as he stamped with rage.

Recovering his composure in a degree, he continued: "Can you suppose
that I am not aware that this island on which we find you is what
remains of the Ionian representative republic, over which you English
exercise the right of protection, but have no claim of government?"

The colonel and the major looked at each other in amazement.

Although Count Timascheff secretly sympathized with Servadac, he had
carefully refrained from taking part in the dispute; but he was on
the point of interfering, when the colonel, in a greatly subdued tone,
begged to be allowed to speak.

"I begin to apprehend," he said, "that you must be la-boring under some
strange mistake. There is no room for questioning that the territory
here is England's—England's by right of conquest; ceded to England
by the Treaty of Utrecht. Three times, indeed—in 1727, 1779, and
1792—France and Spain have disputed our title, but always to no
purpose. You are, I assure you, at the present moment, as much on
English soil as if you were in London, in the middle of Trafalgar
Square."

It was now the turn of the captain and the count to look surprised. "Are
we not, then, in Corfu?" they asked.

"You are at Gibraltar," replied the colonel.

Gibraltar! The word fell like a thunderclap upon their ears. Gibraltar!
the western extremity of the Mediterranean! Why, had they not been
sailing persistently to the east? Could they be wrong in imagining that
they had reached the Ionian Islands? What new mystery was this?

Count Timascheff was about to proceed with a more rigorous
investigation, when the attention of all was arrested by a loud outcry.
Turning round, they saw that the crew of the
Dobryna
was in hot
dispute with the English soldiers. A general altercation had arisen
from a disagreement between the sailor Panofka and Corporal Pim. It had
transpired that the cannon-ball fired in experiment from the island
had not only damaged one of the spars of the schooner, but had broken
Panofka's pipe, and, moreover, had just grazed his nose, which, for a
Russian's, was unusually long. The discussion over this mishap led to
mutual recriminations, till the sailors had almost come to blows with
the garrison.

Servadac was just in the mood to take Panofka's part, which drew from
Major Oliphant the remark that England could not be held responsible for
any accidental injury done by her cannon, and if the Russian's long nose
came in the way of the ball, the Russian must submit to the mischance.

This was too much for Count Timascheff, and having poured out a torrent
of angry invective against the English officers, he ordered his crew to
embark immediately.

"We shall meet again," said Servadac, as they pushed off from shore.

"Whenever you please," was the cool reply.

The geographical mystery haunted the minds of both the count and the
captain, and they felt they could never rest till they had ascertained
what had become of their respective countries. They were glad to be on
board again, that they might résumé their voyage of investigation,
and in two hours were out of sight of the sole remaining fragment of
Gibraltar.

Lieutenant Procope had been left on board in charge of the
Dobryna
,
and on resuming the voyage it was a task of some difficulty to make him
understand the fact that had just come to light. Some hours were spent
in discussion and in attempting to penetrate the mysteries of the
situation.

There were certain things of which they were perfectly certain. They
could be under no misapprehension as to the distance they had positively
sailed from Gourbi Island towards the east before their further progress
was arrested by the unknown shore; as nearly as possible that was
fifteen degrees; the length of the narrow strait by which they had made
their way across that land to regain the open sea was about three miles
and a half; thence onward to the island, which they had been assured,
on evidence that they could not disbelieve, to be upon the site of
Gibraltar, was four degrees; while from Gibraltar to Gourbi Island was
seven degrees or but little more. What was it altogether? Was it not
less than thirty degrees? In that latitude, the degree of longitude
represents eight and forty miles. What, then, did it all amount to?
Indubitably, to less than 1,400 miles. So brief a voyage would bring the
Dobryna
once again to her starting-point, or, in other words, would
enable her to complete the circumnavigation of the globe. How changed
the condition of things! Previously, to sail from Malta to Gibraltar by
an eastward course would have involved the passage of the Suez Canal,
the Red Sea, the Indian Ocean, the Pacific, the Atlantic; but what had
happened now? Why, Gibraltar had been reached as if it had been just at
Corfu, and some three hundred and thirty degrees of the earth's circuit
had vanished utterly.

After allowing for a certain margin of miscalculation, the main fact
remained undeniable; and the necessary inference that Lieutenant Procope
drew from the round of the earth being completed in 1,400 miles, was
that the earth's diameter had been reduced by about fifteen sixteenths
of its length.

"If that be so," observed the count, "it accounts for some of the
strange phenomena we witness. If our world has become so insignificant a
spheroid, not only has its gravity diminished, but its rotary speed has
been accelerated; and this affords an adequate explanation of our days
and nights being thus curtailed. But how about the new orbit in which we
are moving?"

He paused and pondered, and then looked at Procope as though awaiting
from him some further elucidation of the difficulty. The lieutenant
hesitated. When, in a few moments, he began to speak, Servadac smiled
intelligently, anticipating the answer he was about to hear.

"My conjecture is," said Procope, "that a fragment of considerable
magnitude has been detached from the earth; that it has carried with
it an envelope of the earth's atmosphere, and that it is now traveling
through the solar system in an orbit that does not correspond at all
with the proper orbit of the earth."

The hypothesis was plausible; but what a multitude of bewildering
speculations it entailed! If, in truth, a certain mass had been broken
off from the terrestrial sphere, whither would it wend its way? What
would be the measure of the eccentricity of its path? What would be its
period round the sun? Might it not, like a comet, be carried away into
the vast infinity of space? or, on the other hand, might it not be
attracted to the great central source of light and heat, and be absorbed
in it? Did its orbit correspond with the orbit of the ecliptic? and was
there no chance of its ever uniting again with the globe, from which it
had been torn off by so sudden and violent a disruption?

A thoughtful silence fell upon them all, which Servadac was the first
to break. "Lieutenant," he said, "your explanation is ingenious, and
accounts for many appearances; but it seems to me that in one point it
fails."

"How so?" replied Procope. "To my mind the theory meets all objections."

"I think not," Servadac answered. "In one point, at least, it appears to
me to break down completely."

"What is that?" asked the lieutenant.

"Stop a moment," said the captain. "Let us see that we understand each
other right. Unless I mistake you, your hypothesis is that a fragment of
the earth, comprising the Mediterranean and its shores from Gibraltar
to Malta, has been developed into a new asteroid, which is started on an
independent orbit in the solar regions. Is not that your meaning?"

"Precisely so," the lieutenant acquiesced.

"Well, then," continued Servadac, "it seems to me to be at fault in this
respect: it fails, and fails completely, to account for the geological
character of the land that we have found now encompassing this sea. Why,
if the new land is a fragment of the old—why does it not retain its old
formation? What has become of the granite and the calcareous deposits?
How is it that these should all be changed into a mineral concrete with
which we have no acquaintance?"

No doubt, it was a serious objection; for, however likely it might be
that a mass of the earth on being detached would be eccentric in its
movements, there was no probable reason to be alleged why the material
of its substance should undergo so complete a change. There was nothing
to account for the fertile shores, rich in vegetation, being transformed
into rocks arid and barren beyond precedent.

The lieutenant felt the difficulty, and owned himself unprepared to give
at once an adequate solution; nevertheless, he declined to renounce his
theory. He asserted that the arguments in favor of it carried conviction
to his mind, and that he entertained no doubt but that, in the course of
time, all apparently antagonistic circumstances would be explained so as
to become consistent with the view he took. He was careful, however,
to make it understood that with respect to the original cause of
the disruption he had no theory to offer; and although he knew what
expansion might be the result of subterranean forces, he did not venture
to say that he considered it sufficient to produce so tremendous an
effect. The origin of the catastrophe was a problem still to be solved.

"Ah! well," said Servadac, "I don't know that it matters much where our
new little planet comes from, or what it is made of, if only it carries
France along with it."

"And Russia," added the count.

"And Russia, of course," said Servadac, with a polite bow.

There was, however, not much room for this sanguine expectation, for if
a new asteroid had thus been brought into existence, it must be a sphere
of extremely limited dimensions, and there could be little chance that
it embraced more than the merest fraction of either France or Russia. As
to England, the total cessation of all telegraphic communication between
her shores and Gibraltar was a virtual proof that England was beyond its
compass.

And what was the true measurement of the new little world? At Gourbi
Island the days and nights were of equal length, and this seemed to
indicate that it was situated on the equator; hence the distance by
which the two poles stood apart would be half what had been reckoned
would be the distance completed by the
Dobryna
in her circuit. That
distance had been already estimated to be something under 1,400 miles,
so that the Arctic Pole of their recently fashioned world must be about
350 miles to the north, and the Antarctic about 350 miles to the south
of the island. Compare these calculations with the map, and it is at
once apparent that the northernmost limit barely touched the coast of
Provence, while the southernmost reached to about lat. 20 degrees
N., and fell in the heart of the desert. The practical test of these
conclusions would be made by future investigation, but meanwhile
the fact appeared very much to strengthen the presumption that, if
Lieutenant Procope had not arrived at the whole truth, he had made a
considerable advance towards it.