The Castaways of the Flag (23 page)

           
"Yes," Frank went on, "it must have been your father,
Dolly, who had that notion and carried it out."

           
"Oh!" said Dolly. "But I expect your brother Ernest had a
finger in the pie!"

           
"No doubt—our learned Ernest!" Fritz agreed.

           
"And why not the intrepid Jack—and M. Zermatt too?" Captain
Gould enquired.

           
"Everybody, then," said Jenny, laughing.

           
"Yes, every one of both the families, which now are really
one," Fritz answered.

           
The boatswain broke in, as was his way, with a very just remark:

           
''If those who cut this canal did well, those who threw a bridge across
it deserve quite as
much praise. So let us go over and march
on!"

           
They crossed
the bridge and entered into the more thickly wooded district, where rose the
little stream that ran out near Falconhurst, just below Whale Island.

           
Fritz and
Frank listened intently, trying to catch some distant sound of barking or of
guns. What was Jack, the enthusiastic sportsman, about, that he was not hunting
this fine morning? Game was rising in every direction, scampering away through
the brakes and scattering from tree to tree. If the two brothers had had guns, they
could have let fly with both barrels over and over again. It seemed to them
that fur and feather had never been more plentiful in the district, so
plentiful that their companions were genuinely astonished by it.

           
But, besides
the twittering of little birds, the call of partridges and bustards, the
chattering of parrots and sometimes the howling of jackals were all that could
be heard, and to these sounds was never added the report of fire-arms or the whimper
of a dog on the scent.

           
After
crossing the Falconhurst river they only had to go up the right bank as far as
the edge of the wood, where grew the gigantic mangrove tree with the aerial
dwelling-place.

           
A profound
silence reigned underneath these immense trees—a silence which awakened vague
uneasiness. When Fritz looked at Jenny he read in her eyes an anxiety for
which, however, there was no justification as yet. Frank, too, felt some
nervousness, walking on in front and then retracing his steps. This uneasiness
was shared by all. In ten minutes they would be at Falconhurst. Ten minutes!
Was not that much the same as being there already?

           
"It's a
sure thing," said the boatswain, who wanted to cheer them up, "it's a
sure thing that we shall have to go down this fine avenue of yours to Rock
Castle! A delay of an hour, that's all. And what's an hour, after so long an
absence?"

           
They put on
pace. A few moments later they came within sight of the edge of the wood, and
then of the enormous mangrove tree in the middle of the court-yard, enclosed by
palisades fringed with a quickset hedge.

           
Fritz and
Frank ran to the gate contrived in the hedge.

           
The gate was
open, and had been torn half off its hinges.

           
The two
brothers went into the court-yard and stopped beside the little central basin.

           
The place was
deserted.

           
Not a sound
came from the poultry run or the sheds built against the palisade, although
these were generally full of cows and sheep and poultry during the summer
season. In the out-houses were various things, boxes and hampers and
agricultural implements, all in a disorder very foreign to the careful habits
of Mme. Zermatt and Mrs. Wolston and her daughter.

           
Frank ran to
the cattle-sheds.

           
There was
nothing in them but a few armfuls of hay in the racks.

           
Did it mean
that the animals had broken out of the enclosure? Were they straying loose
about the country? No; for not one had been seen anywhere near Falconhurst. It
was just possible that, for some reason or other, they had been penned in the
other farms, and yet that was hardly an explanation.

           
As has been
said, the farmstead of Falconhurst comprised two dwelling-places, one built
among the branches of the mangrove tree, the other among the roots which were
buttressed round its base. Above the latter was a terrace with a railing of
bamboo canes, which supported the roof of tarred moss. This terrace covered
several rooms, divided by partitions fixed among the roots, and large enough
for both families to inhabit them together.

           
This first
dwelling was as silent as the outbuildings in the yard.

           
"Let us
go inside!" said Fritz, with trouble in his voice.

           
All followed
him, and a cry broke from them—an inarticulate cry, for not one of them could
have uttered a word.

           
The furniture
was upset. The chairs and tables had been thrown down, the chests opened, the
bedding thrown on the floor, the utensils into the corners. It was as if the
rooms had been given over to pillage for the mere sake of pillage. Of the
stores of provisions, generally kept fully supplied at Falconhurst, not a scrap
remained. There was no hay in the loft; in the cellar the casks of wine and
beer and spirits were empty. There were no weapons, except one loaded pistol
which the boatswain picked up and thrust in his belt. Yet carbines and guns
were always left at Falconhurst during the hunting season.

           
Fritz, Frank,
and Jenny stood overwhelmed before this most unexpected disaster. Were things
in the same state at Rock Castle and Wood Grange, and Sugar-cane Grove and
Prospect Hill? Of all the farms, had the hermitage of Eberfurt alone been
spared by these pillagers? And who were the pillagers?

           
"My
friends," said Captain Gould, "some disaster has happened; but it may
not be as serious as you fear."

           
No one
answered. What answer could Fritz or Frank or Jenny have given? Their hearts
seemed broken. They had set foot within the Promised Land with so much joy,
only to find ruin and desolation!

           
But what had happened? Had New Switzerland been invaded by a band of
those pirates who were so numerous at that period in the Indian Ocean, where
the Andamans and Nicobars offered them a safe place of refuge? Had the Zermatts
and Wolstons been able to leave Rock Castle in time, and retire elsewhere, or
even flee from the island? Had they fallen into the hands of the pirates—or had
they lost their lives in an attempt at self-defence?

           
And, one last question, had all this happened
a
few months ago, or a few weeks ago,
or a
few days ago, and would it have been possible to
prevent it if the
Unicorn
had
arrived within the time arranged?

           
Jenny made a brave effort to keep back her tears, while Susan and Dolly
sobbed together. Frank wanted to rush to find his father and mother and
brothers, and Fritz was obliged to hold him back. Captain Gould and the
boatswain went out several times to examine the ground near the palisade, but
came back without having found anything to throw light on the matter.

           
Some decision, however, had to be arrived at. Was it better to remain at
Falconhurst and await events there, or to go down to Rock Castle ignorant of
how matters stood? Should they make a reconnaissance, leaving the women and Bob
in James's protection, while Fritz, Frank, and Captain Gould, and
John
Block went to investigate either along the shore or across country?

           
In any case
they had to dispel this uncertainty, even though the truth should leave them
without hope!

           
Fritz was
voicing the general wish when he said:

           
"Let us
try to get to Rock Castle."

           
"And let
us go at once!" Frank exclaimed.

           
"I will
come with you," said Captain Gould.

           
"And so
will I," said John Block.

           
"Good!"
Fritz replied. "But James must stay with Jenny, Dolly, and Susan, who will
be out of harm's way at the top of Falconhurst."

           
"Let us
all go up first," John Block suggested, "and from there, perhaps, we
shall see –"

            It was only reasonable to
do that before going to reconnoitre outside. From the aerial dwelling-place,
and especially from the top of the mangrove tree, the view extended over much
of the Promised Land and the sea to the east, and also over nearly eight miles
of coast between Deliverance Bay and False Hope Point.

           
"Up!
Up!" Fritz answered, to the boatswain's suggestion.

           
The
habitation among the branches of the tree had escaped the general devastation,
thanks to the dense foliage of the mangrove, which almost concealed it from
view. The door giving access to the winding staircase inside the trunk bore no
marks of violence. Frank found it shut, and wrenched at it so that the
lock-bolt came away.

           
In a few
moments they had all climbed up the staircase, lighted by narrow loopholes in
the tree, and set foot on the circular balcony, which was almost completely
screened behind a curtain of leaves.

           
The instant
Fritz and Frank reached the platform they hurried into the first room.

           
Neither this
room nor the rooms next it presented the least sign of disturbance. The bedding
was all in good condition, the furniture all in place. So it was obvious that
the original Falcon's nest had been respected. The marauders could not have
found the door below. The foliage had become so very much thicker in the course
of these twelve years that it would have been as impossible to see the dwelling
from the yard below as it was from the edge of the neighbouring wood.

           
It really
looked as if Mme. Zermatt and Mrs. Wolston had set everything in order only the
day before. There were preserved meat, flour, rice, preserves, and liquor,
enough of everything to last for a week, in accordance with the usual custom
observed at Falconhurst as at the other farms.

           
Nobody now,
of course, gave a thought to the question of food. What occupied their minds to
the exclusion of all else, filling them with despair, was the deserted
condition of Falconhurst in the height of the summer, and the pillage of the
lower dwelling.

           
Directly they
returned to the balcony Fritz and the boatswain clambered up to the top of the
mangrove tree, to get as wide a view as possible.

           
To north ran
the line of coast bounded by False Hope Point at the little hill where the
villa of Prospect Hill stood. Nothing suspicious could be detected in this part
of the district.

           
To west,
beyond the canal connecting Jackal River with Swan Lake, spread the country
watered by the little Falconhurst river, through which Fritz and his companions
had walked after they had crossed the bridge. This was as deserted as the
country which ran still further to the west as far as the defile of Cluse.