Off on a Comet (38 page)

From that day Rosette, for some reason at present incomprehensible,
quite altered his behavior to Isaac Hakkabut, a man for whom he had
always hitherto evinced the greatest repugnance and contempt. All at
once he began to show a remarkable interest in the Jew and his affairs,
paying several visits to the dark little storehouse, making inquiries as
to the state of business and expressing some solicitude about the state
of the exchequer.

The wily Jew was taken somewhat by surprise, but came to an immediate
conclusion that the professor was contemplating borrowing some money; he
was consequently very cautious in all his replies.

It was not Hakkabut's habit ever to advance a loan except at an
extravagant rate of interest, or without demanding far more than an
adequate security. Count Timascheff, a Russian nobleman, was evidently
rich; to him perhaps, for a proper consideration, a loan might be made:
Captain Servadac was a Gascon, and Gascons are proverbially poor; it
would never do to lend any money to him; but here was a professor,
a mere man of science, with circumscribed means; did
he
expect to
borrow? Certainly Isaac would as soon think of flying, as of lending
money to him. Such were the thoughts that made him receive all Rosette's
approaches with a careful reservation.

It was not long, however, before Hakkabut was to be called upon to apply
his money to a purpose for which he had not reckoned. In his eagerness
to effect sales, he had parted with all the alimentary articles in his
cargo without having the precautionary prudence to reserve enough for
his own consumption. Amongst other things that failed him was his stock
of coffee, and as coffee was a beverage without which he deemed it
impossible to exist, he found himself in considerable perplexity.

He pondered the matter over for a long time, and ultimately persuaded
himself that, after all, the stores were the common property of all,
and that he had as much right to a share as anyone else. Accordingly, he
made his way to Ben Zoof, and, in the most amiable tone he could assume,
begged as a favor that he would let him have a pound of coffee.

The orderly shook his head dubiously.

"A pound of coffee, old Nathan? I can't say."

"Why not? You have some?" said Isaac.

"Oh yes! plenty—a hundred kilogrammes."

"Then let me have one pound. I shall be grateful."

"Hang your gratitude!"

"Only one pound! You would not refuse anybody else."

"That's just the very point, old Samuel; if you were anybody else,
I should know very well what to do. I must refer the matter to his
Excellency."

"Oh, his Excellency will do me justice."

"Perhaps you will find his justice rather too much for you." And with
this consoling remark, the orderly went to seek his master.

Rosette meanwhile had been listening to the conversation, and secretly
rejoicing that an opportunity for which he had been watching had
arrived. "What's the matter, Master Isaac? Have you parted with all your
coffee?" he asked, in a sympathizing voice, when Ben Zoof was gone.

"Ah! yes, indeed," groaned Hakkabut, "and now I require some for my own
use. In my little black hole I cannot live without my coffee."

"Of course you cannot," agreed the professor.

"And don't you think the governor ought to let me have it?"

"No doubt."

"Oh, I must have coffee," said the Jew again.

"Certainly," the professor assented. "Coffee is nutritious; it warms the
blood. How much do you want?"

"A pound. A pound will last me for a long time."

"And who will weigh it for you?" asked Rosette, scarcely able to conceal
the eagerness that prompted the question.

"Why, they will weigh it with my steelyard, of course. There is no other
balance here." And as the Jew spoke, the professor fancied he could
detect the faintest of sighs.

"Good, Master Isaac; all the better for you! You will get your seven
pounds instead of one!"

"Yes; well, seven, or thereabouts—thereabouts," stammered the Jew with
considerable hesitation.

Rosette scanned his countenance narrowly, and was about to probe him
with further questions, when Ben Zoof returned. "And what does his
Excellency say?" inquired Hakkabut.

"Why, Nehemiah, he says he shan't give you any."

"Merciful heavens!" began the Jew.

"He says he doesn't mind selling you a little."

"But, by the holy city, why does he make me pay for what anybody else
could have for nothing?"

"As I told you before, you are not anybody else; so, come along. You
can afford to buy what you want. We should like to see the color of your
money."

"Merciful heavens!" the old man whined once more.

"Now, none of that! Yes or no? If you are going to buy, say so at once;
if not, I shall shut up shop."

Hakkabut knew well enough that the orderly was not a man to be trifled
with, and said, in a tremulous voice, "Yes, I will buy."

The professor, who had been looking on with much interest, betrayed
manifest symptoms of satisfaction.

"How much do you want? What will you charge for it?" asked Isaac,
mournfully, putting his hand into his pocket and chinking his money.

"Oh, we will deal gently with you. We will not make any profit. You
shall have it for the same price that we paid for it. Ten francs a
pound, you know."

The Jew hesitated.

"Come now, what is the use of your hesitating? Your gold will have no
value when you go back to the world."

"What do you mean?" asked Hakkabut, startled.

"You will find out some day," answered Ben Zoof, significantly.

Hakkabut drew out a small piece of gold from his pocket, took it close
under the lamp, rolled it over in his hand, and pressed it to his
lips. "Shall you weigh me the coffee with my steelyard?" he asked, in a
quavering voice that confirmed the professor's suspicions.

"There is nothing else to weigh it with; you know that well enough, old
Shechem," said Ben Zoof. The steelyard was then produced; a tray was
suspended to the hook, and upon this coffee was thrown until the needle
registered the weight of one pound. Of course, it took seven pounds of
coffee to do this.

"There you are! There's your coffee, man!" Ben Zoof said.

"Are you sure?" inquired Hakkabut, peering down close to the dial. "Are
you quite sure that the needle touches the point?"

"Yes; look and see."

"Give it a little push, please."

"Why?"

"Because—because—"

"Well, because of what?" cried the orderly, impatiently.

"Because I think, perhaps—I am not quite sure—perhaps the steelyard is
not quite correct."

The words were not uttered before the professor, fierce as a tiger, had
rushed at the Jew, had seized him by the throat, and was shaking him
till he was black in the face.

"Help! help!" screamed Hakkabut. "I shall be strangled."

"Rascal! consummate rascal! thief! villain!" the professor reiterated,
and continued to shake the Jew furiously.

Ben Zoof looked on and laughed, making no attempt to interfere; he had
no sympathy with either of the two.

The sound of the scuffling, however, drew the attention of Servadac,
who, followed by his companions, hastened to the scene. The combatants
were soon parted. "What is the meaning of all this?" demanded the
captain.

As soon as the professor had recovered his breath, exhausted by his
exertions, he said, "The old reprobate, the rascal has cheated us! His
steelyard is wrong! He is a thief!"

Captain Servadac looked sternly at Hakkabut.

"How is this, Hakkabut? Is this a fact?"

"No, no—yes—no, your Excellency, only—"

"He is a cheat, a thief!" roared the excited astronomer. "His weights
deceive!"

"Stop, stop!" interposed Servadac; "let us hear. Tell me, Hakkabut—"

"The steelyard lies! It cheats! it lies!" roared the irrepressible
Rosette.

"Tell me, Hakkabut, I say," repeated Servadac.

The Jew only kept on stammering, "Yes—no—I don't know."

But heedless of any interruption, the professor continued, "False
weights! That confounded steelyard! It gave a false result! The mass was
wrong! The observations contradicted the calculations; they were wrong!
She was out of place! Yes, out of place entirely."

"What!" cried Servadac and Procope in a breath, "out of place?"

"Yes, completely," said the professor.

"Gallia out of place?" repeated Servadac, agitated with alarm.

"I did not say Gallia," replied Rosette, stamping his foot impetuously;
"I said Nerina."

"Oh, Nerina," answered Servadac. "But what of Gallia?" he inquired,
still nervously.

"Gallia, of course, is on her way to the earth. I told you so. But that
Jew is a rascal!"

It was as the professor had said. From the day that Isaac Hakkabut had
entered upon his mercantile career, his dealings had all been carried
on by a system of false weight. That deceitful steelyard had been the
mainspring of his fortune. But when it had become his lot to be the
purchaser instead of the vendor, his spirit had groaned within him at
being compelled to reap the fruits of his own dishonesty. No one who had
studied his character could be much surprised at the confession that was
extorted from him, that for every supposed kilogramme that he had ever
sold the true weight was only 750 grammes, or just five and twenty per
cent. less than it ought to have been.

The professor, however, had ascertained all that he wanted to know. By
estimating his comet at a third as much again as its proper weight,
he had found that his calculations were always at variance with the
observed situation of the satellite, which was immediately influenced by
the mass of its primary.

But now, besides enjoying the satisfaction of having punished old
Hakkabut, Rosette was able to recommence his calculations with reference
to the elements of Nerina upon a correct basis, a task to which he
devoted himself with redoubled energy.

It will be easily imagined that Isaac Hakkabut, thus caught in his own
trap, was jeered most unmercifully by those whom he had attempted to
make his dupes. Ben Zoof, in particular, was never wearied of telling
him how on his return to the world he would be prosecuted for using
false weights, and would certainly become acquainted with the inside
of a prison. Thus badgered, he secluded himself more than ever in his
dismal hole, never venturing, except when absolutely obliged, to face
the other members of the community.

On the 7th of October the comet re-entered the zone of the telescopic
planets, one of which had been captured as a satellite, and the origin
of the whole of which is most probably correctly attributed to the
disintegration of some large planet that formerly revolved between the
orbits of Mars and Jupiter. By the beginning of the following month half
of this zone had been traversed, and only two months remained before
the collision with the earth was to be expected. The temperature was now
rarely below 12 degrees below zero, but that was far too cold to permit
the slightest symptoms of a thaw. The surface of the sea remained as
frozen as ever, and the two vessels, high up on their icy pedestals,
remained unaltered in their critical position.

It was about this time that the question began to be mooted whether it
would not be right to reopen some communication with the Englishmen at
Gibraltar. Not that any doubt was entertained as to their having been
able successfully to cope with the rigors of the winter; but Captain
Servadac, in a way that did honor to his generosity, represented that,
however uncourteous might have been their former behavior, it was at
least due to them that they should be informed of the true condition of
things, which they had had no opportunity of learning; and, moreover,
that they should be invited to co-operate with the population of Nina's
Hive, in the event of any measures being suggested by which the shock of
the approaching collision could be mitigated.

The count and the lieutenant both heartily concurred in Servadac's
sentiments of humanity and prudence, and all agreed that if the
intercourse were to be opened at all, no time could be so suitable as
the present, while the surface of the sea presented a smooth and solid
footing. After a thaw should set in, neither the yacht nor the tartan
could be reckoned on for service, and it would be inexpedient to make
use of the steam launch, for which only a few tons of coal had been
reserved, just sufficient to convey them to Gourbi Island when the
occasion should arise; whilst as to the yawl, which, transformed into a
sledge, had performed so successful a trip to Formentera, the absence of
wind would make that quite unavailable. It was true that with the return
of summer temperature, there would be certain to be a derangement in the
atmosphere of Gallia, which would result in wind, but for the present
the air was altogether too still for the yawl to have any prospects of
making its way to Gibraltar.

The only question remaining was as to the possibility of going on foot.
The distance was somewhere about 240 miles. Captain Servadac declared
himself quite equal to the undertaking. To skate sixty or seventy miles
a day would be nothing, he said, to a practical skater like himself. The
whole journey there and back might be performed in eight days. Provided
with a compass, a sufficient supply of cold meat, and a spirit lamp, by
which he might boil his coffee, he was perfectly sure he should, without
the least difficulty, accomplish an enterprise that chimed in so exactly
with his adventurous spirit.

Equally urgent were both the count and the lieutenant to be allowed
to accompany him; nay, they even offered to go instead; but Servadac,
expressing himself as most grateful for their consideration, declined
their offer, and avowed his resolution of taking no other companion than
his own orderly.