The Mysterious Island | Page 5

subjects, of the
unpublished, of the unknown, and of the impossible. He was one of
those intrepid observers who write under fire, "reporting" among
bullets, and to whom every danger is welcome.
He also had been in all the battles, in the first rank, revolver in one
hand, note-book in the other; grape-shot never made his pencil tremble.
He did not fatigue the wires with incessant telegrams, like those who
speak when they have nothing to say, but each of his notes, short,
decisive, and clear, threw light on some important point. Besides, he
was not wanting in humor. It was he who, after the affair of the Black
River, determined at any cost to keep his place at the wicket of the
telegraph office, and after having announced to his journal the result of
the battle, telegraphed for two hours the first chapters of the Bible. It
cost the New York Herald two thousand dollars, but the New York

Herald published the first intelligence.
Gideon Spilett was tall. He was rather more than forty years of age.
Light whiskers bordering on red surrounded his face. His eye was
steady, lively, rapid in its changes. It was the eye of a man accustomed
to take in at a glance all the details of a scene. Well built, he was inured
to all climates, like a bar of steel hardened in cold water.
For ten years Gideon Spilett had been the reporter of the New York
Herald, which he enriched by his letters and drawings, for he was as
skilful in the use of the pencil as of the pen. When he was captured, he
was in the act of making a description and sketch of the battle. The last
words in his note-book were these: "A Southern rifleman has just taken
aim at me, but--" The Southerner notwithstanding missed Gideon
Spilett, who, with his usual fortune, came out of this affair without a
scratch.
Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett, who did not know each other except
by reputation, had both been carried to Richmond. The engineer's
wounds rapidly healed, and it was during his convalescence that he
made acquaintance with the reporter. The two men then learned to
appreciate each other. Soon their common aim had but one object, that
of escaping, rejoining Grant's army, and fighting together in the ranks
of the Federals.
The two Americans had from the first determined to seize every chance;
but although they were allowed to wander at liberty in the town,
Richmond was so strictly guarded, that escape appeared impossible. In
the meanwhile Captain Harding was rejoined by a servant who was
devoted to him in life and in death. This intrepid fellow was a Negro
born on the engineer's estate, of a slave father and mother, but to whom
Cyrus, who was an Abolitionist from conviction and heart, had long
since given his freedom. The once slave, though free, would not leave
his master. He would have died for him. He was a man of about thirty,
vigorous, active, clever, intelligent, gentle, and calm, sometimes naive,
always merry, obliging, and honest. His name was Nebuchadnezzar,
but he only answered to the familiar abbreviation of Neb.

When Neb heard that his master had been made prisoner, he left
Massachusetts without hesitating an instant, arrived before Richmond,
and by dint of stratagem and shrewdness, after having risked his life
twenty times over, managed to penetrate into the besieged town. The
pleasure of Harding on seeing his servant, and the joy of Neb at finding
his master, can scarcely be described.
But though Neb had been able to make his way into Richmond, it was
quite another thing to get out again, for the Northern prisoners were
very strictly watched. Some extraordinary opportunity was needed to
make the attempt with any chance of success, and this opportunity not
only did not present itself, but was very difficult to find.
Meanwhile Grant continued his energetic operations. The victory of
Petersburg had been very dearly bought. His forces, united to those of
Butler, had as yet been unsuccessful before Richmond, and nothing
gave the prisoners any hope of a speedy deliverance.
The reporter, to whom his tedious captivity did not offer a single
incident worthy of note, could stand it no longer. His usually active
mind was occupied with one sole thought--how he might get out of
Richmond at any cost. Several times had he even made the attempt, but
was stopped by some insurmountable obstacle. However, the siege
continued; and if the prisoners were anxious to escape and join Grant's
army, certain of the besieged were no less anxious to join the Southern
forces. Among them was one Jonathan Forster, a determined
Southerner. The truth was, that if the prisoners of the Secessionists
could not leave the town,