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He took the lead of his playmates in their sports, and made them submit to his regulations and decisions. Not only did the peasants' boys in the little hamlet where his reputed father lived thus yield the precedence to him, but sometimes, when the sons of men of rank and station came out from the city to join them in their plays, even then Cyrus was the acknowledged head.
"Indeed, Cyrus," said Spilett, "these things are incredible! Your rescue, the case stranded on the sand, Top's adventure, and lastly this bottle... Shall we never have the answer to these enigmas?" "Yes!" replied the engineer quickly, "yes, even if I have to penetrate into the bowels of this island!" "Chance will perhaps give us the key to this mystery!" "Chance! Spilett!
The engineer, calculating the time employed in its fall, was able to calculate the depth of the well, which was found to be about ninety feet. The floor of the cavern must thus be situated ninety feet above the level of the sea. "Here is our dwelling," said Cyrus Harding. "But it was occupied by some creature," replied Gideon Spilett, whose curiosity was not yet satisfied.
The mind of Cyrus was undoubtedly so occupied, and this, probably, was the origin of the remarkable dream. His dream was, that Darius appeared to him in a vision, with vast wings growing from his shoulders. Darius stood, in the vision, on the confines of Europe and Asia, and his wings, expanded either way, overshadowed the whole known world.
Cyrus Harding and his companions had drawn near the divan, and now arranged the cushions in such a manner as to better support the dying man. They saw his eyes wander over all the marvels of this saloon, lighted by the electric rays which fell from the arabesques of the luminous ceiling.
He removed the pipe from his rather wide mouth, and held it poised significantly. "This thing won't stand keeping. It's murder. There's two of 'em, I guess. Traders. Marcel Brand and his partner, Cyrus Allshore. Those are the names. Can't say I've heard of 'em before. Both of 'em dead murdered up there somewhere around the Unaga country.
They replied that they had been deceived, that they had no hostility to the Persian king, that they had been ashamed to desert Cyrus in the midst of danger, and that they now desired only to return home peaceably, but were prepared to repel hostilities. It was not easy to conquer such brave men, reduced to desperation, without immense losses and probable humiliation. So the Persians dissembled.
"I met him on my way to the post-office last night, and he walked along with me, and then as far as his house on the way home, if you call that walking out," said I. "You sound like the paragraphs in a daily paper. Now, what on earth do you mean, if I may ask, Cyrus?" "Nothing, except Mrs. Temple is in there raising a devil of a row," said Cyrus. He gazed at me in a bewildered fashion.
"Well, those days are over, and you say it's business that you've come about?" retorted Cyrus, not rudely, but with the manner of a man who seldom wastes words and whose every expenditure either of time or of money must achieve some definite result. "Yes, it's business." The rector's tone had chilled a little, and he added in spite of his judgment, "I'm afraid it's a favour.
If Cyrus Harding, Gideon Spilett, Herbert, Pencroft, Neb, and Ayrton had survived, it was because, assembled under their tent, they had been hurled into the sea at the instant when the fragments of the island rained down on every side. When they reached the surface they could only perceive, at half a cable's length, this mass of rocks, towards which they swam and on which they found footing.
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