Mysterious Island Page #4

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You don't understand.

I ran away from a battle.

I've been running ever since.

I got caught running away.

Son, your whole Union Army's

been running from mine...

...for the last three years.

Now we're running away from you.

You needn't feel special about it.

All right. We want to reach

that crater before nightfall.

Just once more around to the

top, Captain. Not too far.

Too far for me.

Oh, for the energy of youth.

Let's try a shortcut.

Give me the rope.

You mean you're

going to lasso that, Captain?

Mr. Harding, permit me.

With pleasure, Mr. Spilett.

Don't you think you ought to stick

to newspaper writing, Mr. Spilett?

Hey!

I'm surprised you're so handy

with a rope, Mr. Spilett.

Now, you just watch a good

balloonist climb one.

You just watch a gentleman.

Hey, he's doing it.

Good morning.

Look what we've got up here,

giant mice.

There are some more.

Come on, Spilett.

We're going to try and catch some goat.

Get up! Get up there!

We can build a corral

for these and keep them.

Yeah, there's nothing like cheese

made from goat milk.

-Would you like that, Captain?

-Very nice, Neb.

Hey, Captain,

can you see anything over there?

This is an island all right.

Nothing but water all around.

Hardly more than a volcano

pushed its way up out of the sea.

Harding!

-Harding!

-What?

Look out there. It's a small boat.

It must be.

-It seems to be only drifting.

-Maybe we could use it to get away.

She's beautiful.

Better than that, she's alive.

-How about this one, Captain?

-Yeah, she's alive, too.

Well, here's one that isn't.

Thank you.

I'm sorry.

Thank you.

Will you have some of my soup, madam?

No, thank you.

Are you English?

No, ma'am. We're not English.

We're Americans.

It's made of shellfish.

A kind of French bouillabaisse.

There's only one kind of bouillabaisse.

-Auntie, you must have something.

-Leave me alone, child.

-Are you in charge?

-Yes, ma'am.

I take it that we're not in Marseilles...

...in spite of what the

gentleman offered us to eat.

No, ma'am.

We're somewhere in the Pacific.

On an island, to be exact.

But surely you weren't on our ship.

We came by balloon.

I beg your pardon?

I said, we came by-

Please don't talk nonsense.

I shall address myself to you.

But he's right, ma'am.

We were held in a Confederate prison and

escaped in one of their observation balloons.

Yes, I'm quite sure of it.

But we can't possibly stay here.

How soon may we leave?

I'm not quite sure, ma'am.

My name is Lady Mary Fairchild.

And this is my niece, Elena.

Ma'am. My name is Cyrus Harding.

Captain in the United States Army Engineers.

I take it you've met these others.

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