I have already remarked that the destruction, which was in other respects general, had not extended to the range of apartments which opened to the cool air of the verandah, and the vast kitchens where I had discovered such a large stock of provisions. As soon as I found myself alone I hastened to shut the three doors of the arcades of the reception-room, and I moreover barricaded them securely. This was a good thing done. In less than ten minutes after the miraculous departure of these cruel wretches I was securely fortified against all their attacks. Firearms, and perhaps cannon even, were necessary to dislodge me. And I had plenty of provisions!
I passed the rest of the night as tranquilly as I was accustomed to do in my house at Macao—so tranquilly, in fact, that I believe I must have slept several days.
At the end of this indeterminable time, during which I was absorbed, as it were, by a sleep of lead, my first thought on awaking in a calmer frame of mind than I had known for some time past was to make myself perfectly conversant with my situation. I had no difficulty in coming to the conclusion that so long as I was destined to remain on this island I should be exposed to a perpetual vengeance worse than death at the hands of my tormentors. At present I believed myself to be perfectly secure, but if I dared to venture forth I should, of course, become the object of renewed attacks.
Occupied with these thoughts, I proceeded to examine the retreat in which I had intrenched myself, to see whether I had left any point of attack accessible to my crafty foes. First of all I assured myself that the three doors of the saloon and the door of the kitchen would resist their united malice. They were of heart of oak and teak, the hardest of all woods; and the locks, admirable examples of English manufacture, added much to the security of my defence. The lower portion of the fortress might, therefore, be considered impregnable.
But these doors once closed, light penetrated to the ground-floor only by a little Moorish bell-tower belonging to the upper story. It was necessary, therefore, for me, as I dared not open the doors, to pass my days in the second story; at night I could descend, if I pleased, to the lower rooms.
Not having the slightest idea of the arrangement of this upper story, I proceeded there at once; a spiral staircase, constructed in the thickness of the wall, led to it. Once arrived there, I could see that the apartments composing it had been kept in remarkable order by the former occupiers. One was unquestionably Vice-Admiral Campbell’s study. The walls were hidden behind a row of boxes which assuredly contained papers of great importance. I thought as much simply because I had no knowledge whatever of the matter.
Before proceeding any farther in my researches I approached the windows of the bell-tower, which were filled with transparent horn from China, through which one can see without being seen. I at once directed my eyes to the courtyard of the verandah. The reader will understand this was overlooked by the Moorish belfry, from which I moreover had a view of the woods and garden plots outside the courtyard. But what did I see on glancing around? Why, my indefatigable enemies all posted on guard from one point to another, on all the heights, on the branches of the trees, on every knoll of ground, watching to see whether I would venture to leave my retreat, or even if I would show myself at some opening where, on signalling me, they could commence their attack in a regular manner.
All were armed with bamboos and sticks of an enormous size. It was a silent siege of an enemy, invisible behind his lines of defence. To climb up to that story, the loftiness of which defied their malice, was to them a real impossibility, and it was none the less an impossibility for them to burst open the barricaded doors, which were placed between their rage and me.
Thus reassured on all sides, I proceeded to resume my investigations of the Vice-Admiral Campbell’s apartments.
I was delighted to find in the remotest room—that in which I commenced my inspection—a small collection of books on travels, consisting of the most esteemed works on Japan, Tartary, China, New Guinea, New South Wales, and the islands of Oceania, from Marco Polo to Dumont d’Urville. Most of these useful works had the admiral’s crest and initials on the corner. I felt certain that they had been removed from the library of the frigate Halcyon, and had evidently been placed temporarily in this room that the officers might have recourse to them during their sojourn on land. It is scarcely possible to imagine what an inestimable treasure these books were to me. I was seized with a most impatient desire to consult these works. Perhaps by reading them and consulting the valuable maps which they contained I might learn on what island I had been thrown by my shipwreck. I had already placed my hand on the travels of the celebrated Spanish navigator who gave his glorious name to the group of islands called Mindanao, which are mostly peopled by Malay pirates, even to the present day, when my attention was diverted by a volume lying on the study table. I opened it and found it was a manuscript. A sense of discretion warned me to close it, but having read in large letters on the first page, “Personal and private journal of Vice-Admiral Campbell, commanding the English forces in Oceania,” I opened it anew with an irresistible curiosity, and I may add with a very good reason, since I foresaw all the information I was going to derive from it.