A Floating City

Chapter XXXIV

The Statistician to the Front

Jules Verne


THE next day, Tuesday, the 9th of April, the Great Eastern, weighed anchor, and set sail to enter the Hudson, the pilot guiding her with an unerring eye. The storm had spent itself in the night, and the last black clouds disappeared below the horizon. The aspect of the sea was enlivened by a flotilla of schooners, waiting along the coast for the breeze.

A small steamer came alongside, and we were boarded by the officer of the New York sanitary commissioners.

It was not long before we passed the light-boat which marks the channels of the Hudson, and ranged near Sandy Hook Point, where a group of spectators greeted us with a volley of hurrahs.

When the Great Eastern, had gone round the interior bay formed by Sandy Hook Point, through the flotilla of fishing-smacks, I caught a glimpse of the verdant heights of New Jersey, the enormous forts on the bay, then the low line of the great city stretching between the Hudson and East river.

In another hour, after having ranged opposite the New York quays, the Great Eastern, was moored in the Hudson, and the anchors became entangled in the submarine cable, which must necessarily be broken on her departure.

Then began the disembarkation of all my fellow-voyagers whom I should never see again: Californians, Southerners, Mormonites, and the young lovers. I was waiting for Fabian and Corsican.

I had been obliged to inform Captain Anderson of the incidents relating to the duel which had taken place on board. The doctors made their report, and nothing whatever having been found wrong in the death of Harry Drake, orders were given that the last duties might be rendered to him on land.

At this moment Cockburn, the statician, who had not spoken to me the whole of the voyage, came up and said,—

“Do you know, sir, how many turns the wheels have made during our passage?”

“I do not, sir.”

“One hundred thousand, seven hundred and twenty-three.”

“Ah! really sir, and the screw?”

“Six hundred and eight thousand, one hundred and thirty.”

“I am much obliged to you, sir, for the information.”

And the statician left me without any farewell whatever.

Fabian and Corsican joined me at this moment. Fabian pressed my hand warmly.

“Ellen,” said he to me, “Ellen will recover. Her reason came back to her for a moment. Ah! God is just, and He will restore her wholly to us.”

Whilst thus speaking, Fabian smiled as he thought of the future. As for Captain Corsican, he kissed me heartily without any ceremony.

“Good-bye, good-bye, we shall see you again,” he cried to me, when he had taken his place in the tender where were Fabian and Ellen, under the care of Mrs. R——, Captain MacElwin’s sister, who had come to meet her brother.

Then the tender sheered off, taking the first convoy of passengers to the Custom House pier.

I watched them as they went farther and farther away, and, seeing Ellen sitting between Fabian and his sister, I could not doubt that care, devotion, and love would restore to this poor mind the reason of which grief had robbed it.

Just then some one took hold of my arm, and I knew it was Dr. Pitferge.

“Well,” said he, “and what is going to become of you?”

“My idea was, Doctor, since the Great Eastern remains a hundred and ninety-two hours at New York, and as I must return with her, to spend the hundred and ninety-two hours in America. Certainly it is but a week, but a week well spent is, perhaps, long enough to see New York, the Hudson, the Mohawk Valley, Lake Erie, Niagara, and all the country made familiar by Cooper.

“Ah! you are going to the Niagara!” cried Dean Pitferge. “I’ll declare I should not be sorry to see it again, and if my proposal does not seem very disagreeable to you—”

The worthy Doctor amused me with his crotchets. I had taken a fancy to him, and here was a well-instructed guide placed at my service.

“That’s settled, then,” said I to him.

A quarter of an hour later we embarked on the tender and at three o’clock were comfortably lodged in two rooms of Fifth Avenue Hotel.


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