"You must be aware, gentlemen," began the count, "that a most
singular catastrophe occurred on the 1st of January last.
Its cause, its limits we have utterly failed to discover,
but from the appearance of the island on which we find you here,
you have evidently experienced its devastating consequences."
The Englishmen, in silence, bowed assent.
"Captain Servadac, who accompanies me," continued the count,
"has been most severely tried by the disaster. Engaged as he was
in an important mission as a staff-officer in Algeria--"
"A French colony, I believe," interposed Major Oliphant, half shutting
his eyes with an expression of supreme indifference.
Servadac was on the point of making some cutting retort,
but Count Timascheff, without allowing the interruption to be noticed,
calmly continued his narrative:
"It was near the mouth of the Shelif that a portion of Africa, on that
eventful night, was transformed into an island which alone survived;
the rest of the vast continent disappeared as completely as if it
had never been."
The announcement seemed by no means startling to the phlegmatic colonel.
"Indeed!" was all he said.
"And where were you?" asked Major Oliphant.
"I was out at sea, cruising in my yacht; hard by; and I look upon
it as a miracle, and nothing less, that I and my crew escaped
with our lives."
"I congratulate you on your luck," replied the major.
The count resumed: "It was about a month after the great disruption
that I was sailing--my engine having sustained some damage in the shock--
along the Algerian coast, and had the pleasure of meeting with my
previous acquaintance, Captain Servadac, who was resident upon the island
with his orderly, Ben Zoof."
"Ben who?" inquired the major.
|