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<h2> CHAPTER IX. INQUIRIES UNSATISFIED </h2>
<p>Fast as his legs could carry him, Servadac had made his way to the top of
the cliff. It was quite true that a vessel was in sight, hardly more than
six miles from the shore; but owing to the increase in the earth's
convexity, and the consequent limitation of the range of vision, the
rigging of the topmasts alone was visible above the water. This was
enough, however, to indicate that the ship was a schooner—an
impression that was confirmed when, two hours later, she came entirely in
sight.</p>
<p>"The <i>Dobryna</i>!" exclaimed Servadac, keeping his eye unmoved at his
telescope.</p>
<p>"Impossible, sir!" rejoined Ben Zoof; "there are no signs of smoke."</p>
<p>"The <i>Dobryna</i>!" repeated the captain, positively. "She is under
sail; but she is Count Timascheff's yacht."</p>
<p>He was right. If the count were on board, a strange fatality was bringing
him to the presence of his rival. But no longer now could Servadac regard
him in the light of an adversary; circumstances had changed, and all
animosity was absorbed in the eagerness with which he hailed the prospect
of obtaining some information about the recent startling and inexplicable
events. During the twenty-seven days that she had been absent, the <i>Dobryna</i>,
he conjectured, would have explored the Mediterranean, would very probably
have visited Spain, France, or Italy, and accordingly would convey to
Gourbi Island some intelligence from one or other of those countries. He
reckoned, therefore, not only upon ascertaining the extent of the late
catastrophe, but upon learning its cause. Count Timascheff was, no doubt,
magnanimously coming to the rescue of himself and his orderly.</p>
<p>The wind being adverse, the <i>Dobryna</i> did not make very rapid
progress; but as the weather, in spite of a few clouds, remained calm, and
the sea was quite smooth, she was enabled to hold a steady course. It
seemed unaccountable that she should not use her engine, as whoever was on
board, would be naturally impatient to reconnoiter the new island, which
must just have come within their view. The probability that suggested
itself was that the schooner's fuel was exhausted.</p>
<p>Servadac took it for granted that the <i>Dobryna</i> was endeavoring to
put in. It occurred to him, however, that the count, on discovering an
island where he had expected to find the mainland of Africa, would not
unlikely be at a loss for a place of anchorage. The yacht was evidently
making her way in the direction of the former mouth of the Shelif, and the
captain was struck with the idea that he would do well to investigate
whether there was any suitable mooring towards which he might signal her.
Zephyr and Galette were soon saddled, and in twenty minutes had carried
their riders to the western extremity of the island, where they both
dismounted and began to explore the coast.</p>
<p>They were not long in ascertaining that on the farther side of the point
there was a small well-sheltered creek of sufficient depth to accommodate
a vessel of moderate tonnage. A narrow channel formed a passage through
the ridge of rocks that protected it from the open sea, and which, even in
the roughest weather, would ensure the calmness of its waters.</p>
<p>Whilst examining the rocky shore, the captain observed, to his great
surprise, long and well-defined rows of seaweed, which undoubtedly
betokened that there had been a very considerable ebb and flow of the
waters—a thing unknown in the Mediterranean, where there is scarcely
any perceptible tide. What, however, seemed most remarkable, was the
manifest evidence that ever since the highest flood (which was caused, in
all probability, by the proximity of the body of which the huge disc had
been so conspicuous on the night of the 31st of December) the phenomenon
had been gradually lessening, and in fact was now reduced to the normal
limits which had characterized it before the convulsion.</p>
<p>Without doing more than note the circumstance, Servadac turned his entire
attention to the <i>Dobryna</i>, which, now little more than a mile from
shore, could not fail to see and understand his signals. Slightly changing
her course, she first struck her mainsail, and, in order to facilitate the
movements of her helmsman, soon carried nothing but her two topsails,
brigantine and jib. After rounding the peak, she steered direct for the
channel to which Servadac by his gestures was pointing her, and was not
long in entering the creek. As soon as the anchor, imbedded in the sandy
bottom, had made good its hold, a boat was lowered. In a few minutes more
Count Timascheff had landed on the island. Captain Servadac hastened
towards him.</p>
<p>"First of all, count," he exclaimed impetuously, "before we speak one
other word, tell me what has happened."</p>
<p>The count, whose imperturbable composure presented a singular contrast to
the French officer's enthusiastic vivacity, made a stiff bow, and in his
Russian accent replied: "First of all, permit me to express my surprise at
seeing you here. I left you on a continent, and here I have the honor of
finding you on an island."</p>
<p>"I assure you, count, I have never left the place."</p>
<p>"I am quite aware of it. Captain Servadac, and I now beg to offer you my
sincere apologies for failing to keep my appointment with you."</p>
<p>"Never mind, now," interposed the captain; "we will talk of that
by-and-by. First, tell me what has happened."</p>
<p>"The very question I was about to put to you, Captain Servadac."</p>
<p>"Do you mean to say you know nothing of the cause, and can tell me nothing
of the extent, of the catastrophe which has transformed this part of
Africa into an island?"</p>
<p>"Nothing more than you know yourself."</p>
<p>"But surely, Count Timascheff, you can inform me whether upon the northern
shore of the Mediterranean—"</p>
<p>"Are you certain that this is the Mediterranean?" asked the count
significantly, and added, "I have discovered no sign of land."</p>
<p>The captain stared in silent bewilderment. For some moments he seemed
perfectly stupefied; then, recovering himself, he began to overwhelm the
count with a torrent of questions. Had he noticed, ever since the 1st of
January, that the sun had risen in the west? Had he noticed that the days
had been only six hours long, and that the weight of the atmosphere was so
much diminished? Had he observed that the moon had quite disappeared, and
that the earth had been in imminent hazard of running foul of the planet
Venus? Was he aware, in short, that the entire motions of the terrestrial
sphere had undergone a complete modification? To all these inquiries, the
count responded in the affirmative. He was acquainted with everything that
had transpired; but, to Servadac's increasing astonishment, he could throw
no light upon the cause of any of the phenomena.</p>
<p>"On the night of the 31st of December," he said, "I was proceeding by sea
to our appointed place of meeting, when my yacht was suddenly caught on
the crest of an enormous wave, and carried to a height which it is beyond
my power to estimate. Some mysterious force seemed to have brought about a
convulsion of the elements. Our engine was damaged, nay disabled, and we
drifted entirely at the mercy of the terrible hurricane that raged during
the succeeding days. That the <i>Dobryna</i> escaped at all is little less
than a miracle, and I can only attribute her safety to the fact that she
occupied the center of the vast cyclone, and consequently did not
experience much change of position."</p>
<p>He paused, and added: "Your island is the first land we have seen."</p>
<p>"Then let us put out to sea at once and ascertain the extent of the
disaster," cried the captain, eagerly. "You will take me on board, count,
will you not?"</p>
<p>"My yacht is at your service, sir, even should you require to make a tour
round the world."</p>
<p>"A tour round the Mediterranean will suffice for the present, I think,"
said the captain, smiling.</p>
<p>The count shook his head.</p>
<p>"I am not sure," said he, "but what the tour of the Mediterranean will
prove to be the tour of the world."</p>
<p>Servadac made no reply, but for a time remained silent and absorbed in
thought.</p>
<p>After the silence was broken, they consulted as to what course was best to
pursue; and the plan they proposed was, in the first place, to discover
how much of the African coast still remained, and to carry on the tidings
of their own experiences to Algiers; or, in the event of the southern
shore having actually disappeared, they would make their way northwards
and put themselves in communication with the population on the river banks
of Europe.</p>
<p>Before starting, it was indispensable that the engine of the <i>Dobryna</i>
should be repaired: to sail under canvas only would in contrary winds and
rough seas be both tedious and difficult. The stock of coal on board was
adequate for two months' consumption; but as it would at the expiration of
that time be exhausted, it was obviously the part of prudence to employ it
in reaching a port where fuel could be replenished.</p>
<p>The damage sustained by the engine proved to be not very serious; and in
three days after her arrival the <i>Dobryna</i> was again ready to put to
sea.</p>
<p>Servadac employed the interval in making the count acquainted with all he
knew about his small domain. They made an entire circuit of the island,
and both agreed that it must be beyond the limits of that circumscribed
territory that they must seek an explanation of what had so strangely
transpired.</p>
<p>It was on the last day of January that the repairs of the schooner were
completed. A slight diminution in the excessively high temperature which
had prevailed for the last few weeks, was the only apparent change in the
general order of things; but whether this was to be attributed to any
alteration in the earth's orbit was a question which would still require
several days to decide. The weather remained fine, and although a few
clouds had accumulated, and might have caused a trifling fall of the
barometer, they were not sufficiently threatening to delay the departure
of the <i>Dobryna</i>.</p>
<p>Doubts now arose, and some discussion followed, whether or not it was
desirable for Ben Zoof to accompany his master. There were various reasons
why he should be left behind, not the least important being that the
schooner had no accommodation for horses, and the orderly would have found
it hard to part with Zephyr, and much more with his own favorite Galette;
besides, it was advisable that there should be some one left to receive
any strangers that might possibly arrive, as well as to keep an eye upon
the herds of cattle which, in the dubious prospect before them, might
prove to be the sole resource of the survivors of the catastrophe.
Altogether, taking into consideration that the brave fellow would incur no
personal risk by remaining upon the island, the captain was induced with
much reluctance to forego the attendance of his servant, hoping very
shortly to return and to restore him to his country, when he had
ascertained the reason of the mysteries in which they were enveloped.</p>
<p>On the 31st, then, Ben Zoof was "invested with governor's powers," and
took an affecting leave of his master, begging him, if chance should carry
him near Montmartre, to ascertain whether the beloved "mountain" had been
left unmoved.</p>
<p>Farewells over, the <i>Dobryna</i> was carefully steered through the
creek, and was soon upon the open sea.</p>
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