the water. The day after to-morrow, if ever, it will be uncovered.
Very well then, if I cannot myself attempt to get through, may be a
bottle thrown into the lagoon might be carried out during the last
few minutes of the ebb. And might not this bottle by chance--an
ultra-providential chance, I must avow--be picked up by a ship passing
near Back Cup? Perhaps even it might be borne away by a friendly
current and cast upon one of the Bermudan beaches. What if that bottle
contained a letter?
I cannot get this thought out of my mind, and it works me up into a
great state of excitement. Then objections crop up--this one among
others: the bottle might be swept against the rocks and smashed ere
ever it could get out of the tunnel. Very true, but what if, instead
of a bottle a diminutive, tightly closed keg were used? It would not
run any danger of being smashed and would besides stand a much better
chance of reaching the open sea.
-September 20-.--This evening, I, unperceived, entered one of the
store houses containing the booty pillaged from various ships and
procured a keg very suitable for my experiment.
I hid the keg under my coat, and returned to the Beehive and my cell.
Then without losing an instant I set to work. Paper, pen, ink, nothing
was wanting, as will be supposed from the fact that for three months I
have been making notes and dotting down my impressions daily.
I indite the following message:
"On June 15 last Thomas Roch and his keeper Gaydon, or rather Simon
Hart, the French engineer who occupied Pavilion No. 17, at Healthful
House, near New-Berne, North Carolina, United States of America, were
kidnapped and carried on board the schooner -Ebba-, belonging to the
Count d'Artigas. Both are now confined in the interior of a cavern
which serves as a lair for the said Count d'Artigas--who is really Ker
Karraje, the pirate who some time ago carried on his depredations in
the West Pacific--and for about a hundred men of which his band is
composed.
"When he has obtained possession of Roch's fulgurator whose power is,
so to speak, without limit, Ker Karraje will be in a position to carry
on his crimes with complete impunity.
"It is therefore urgent that the states interested should destroy his
lair without delay.
"The cavern in which the pirate Ker Karraje has taken refuge is in the
interior of the islet of Back Cup, which is wrongly regarded as
an active volcano. It is situated at the western extremity of the
archipelago of Bermuda, and on the east is bounded by a range of
reefs, but on the north, south, and west is open.
"Communication with the inside of the mountain is only possible
through a tunnel a few yards under water in a narrow pass on the west.
A submarine apparatus therefore is necessary to effect an entrance, at
any rate until a tunnel they are boring through the northwestern wall
of the cavern is completed.
"The pirate Ker Karraje employs an apparatus of this kind--the
submarine boat that the Count d'Artigas ordered of the Cramps and
which was supposed to have been lost during the public experiment with
it in Charleston Bay. This boat is used not only for the purpose of
entering and issuing from Back Cup, but also to tow the schooner and
attack merchant vessels in Bermudan waters.
"This schooner -Ebba-, so well known on the American coast, is kept
in a small creek on the western side of the island, behind a mass of
rocks, and is invisible from the sea.
"The best place to land is on the west coast formerly occupied by the
colony of Bermudan fishers; but it would first be advisable to effect
a breach in the side of the cavern by means of the most powerful
melinite shells.
"The fact that Ker Karraje may be in the position to use Roch's
fulgurator for the defence of the island must also be taken into
consideration. Let it be well borne in mind that if its destructive
power surpasses anything ever conceived or dreamed of, it extends over
a zone not exceeding a mile in extent. The distance of this dangerous
zone is variable, but once the engines have been set, the modification
of the distance occupies some time, and a warship that succeeds in
passing the zone has nothing further to fear.
"This document is written on the twentieth day of September at eight
o'clock in the evening and is signed with my name
"THOMAS HART, Engineer."
The above is the text of the statement I have just drawn up. It says
all that is necessary about the island, whose exact situation is
marked on all modern charts and maps, and points out the expediency
of acting without delay, and what to do in case Ker Karraje is in the
position to employ Roch's fulgurator.
I add a plan of the cavern showing its internal configuration, the
situation of the lagoon, the lay of the Beehive, Ker Karraje's
habitation, my cell, and Thomas Roch's laboratory.
I wrap the document in a piece of tarpaulin and insert the package in
the little keg, which measures six inches by three and a half. It
is perfectly watertight and will stand any amount of knocking about
against the rocks.
There is one danger, however, and that is, that it may be swept back
by the returning tide, cast up on the island, and fall into the hands
of the crew of the -Ebba- when the schooner is hauled into her creek.
If Ker Karraje ever gets hold of it, it will be all up with me.
It will be readily conceived with what anxiety I have awaited the
moment to make the attempt: I am in a perfect fever of excitement,
for it is a matter of life or death to me. I calculate from previous
observations that the tide will be very low at about a quarter to
nine. The top of the tunnel ought then to be a foot and a half above
water, which is more than enough to permit of the keg passing through
it. It will be another half hour at least before the flow sets in
again, and by that time the keg may be far enough away to escape being
thrown back on the coast.
I peer out of my cell. There is no one about, and I advance to the
side of the lagoon, where by the light of a nearby lamp, I perceive
the arch of the tunnel, towards which the current seems to be setting
pretty swiftly.
I go down to the very edge, and cast in the keg which contains the
precious document and all my hopes.
"God be with it!" I fervently exclaim. "God be with it!"
For a minute or two the little barrel remains stationary, and then
floats back to the side again. I throw it out once more with all my
strength.
This time it is in the track of the current, which to my great joy
sweeps it along and in twenty seconds, it has disappeared in the
tunnel.
Yes, God be with it! May Heaven guide thee, little barrel! May it
protect all those whom Ker Karraje menaces and grant that this band of
pirates may not escape from the justice of man!
CHAPTER XIV.
BATTLE BETWEEN THE "SWORD" AND THE TUG.
Through all this sleepless night I have followed the keg in fancy. How
many times I seem to see it swept against the rocks in the tunnel into
a creek, or some excavation. I am in a cold perspiration from head to
foot. Then I imagine that it has been carried out to sea. Heavens!
if the returning tide should sweep it back to the entrance and then
through the tunnel into the lagoon! I must be on the lookout for it.
I rise before the sun and saunter down to the lagoon. Not a single
object is floating on its calm surface.
The work on the tunnel through the side of the cavern goes on, and at
four o'clock in the afternoon on September 23, Engineer Serko blows
away the last rock obstructing the issue, and communication with the
outer world is established. It is only a very narrow hole, and one
has to stoop to go through it. The exterior orifice is lost among the
crannies of the rocky coast, and it would be easy to obstruct it, if
such a measure became necessary.
It goes without saying that the passage will be strictly guarded. No
one without special authorization will be able either to go out or
come in, therefore there is little hope of escape in that direction.
-September 25.---This morning the tug rose from the depth of the
lagoon to the surface, and has now run alongside the jetty. The Count
d'Artigas and Captain Spade disembark, and the crew set to work to
land the provisions--boxes of canned meat, preserves, barrels of wine
and spirits, and other things brought by the -Ebba,- among which are
several packages destined for Thomas Roch. The men also land the
various sections of Roch's engines which are discoid in shape.
The inventor watches their operations, and his eyes glisten with
eagerness. He seizes one of the sections, examines it, and nods
approval. I notice that his joy no longer finds expression in
incoherent utterances, that he is completely transformed from what he
was while a patient at Healthful House. So much is this the case that
I begin to ask myself whether his madness which was asserted to be
incurable, has not been radically cured.
At last Thomas Roch embarks in the boat used for crossing the lake and
is rowed over to his laboratory. Engineer Serko accompanies him. In an
hour's time the tug's cargo has all been taken out and transported to
the storehouses.
Ker Karraje exchanges a word or two with Engineer Serko and then
enters his mansion. Later, in the afternoon, I see them walking up and
down in front of the Beehive and talking earnestly together.
Then they enter the new tunnel, followed by Captain Spade. If I could
but follow them! If I could but breathe for awhile the bracing air
of the Atlantic, of which the interior of Back Cup only receives
attenuated puffs, so to speak.
-From September 26 to October 10-.--Fifteen days have elapsed. Under
the directions of Engineer Serko and Thomas Roch the sections of the
engines have been fitted together. Then the construction of their
supports is begun. These supports are simple trestles, fitted with
transverse troughs or grooves of various degrees of inclination, and
which could be easily installed on the deck of the -Ebba-, or even
on the platform of the tug, which can be kept on a level with the
surface.
Thus Ker Karraje, will be ruler of the seas, with his yacht. No
warship, however big, however powerful, will be able to cross the zone
of danger, whereas the -Ebba- will be out of range of its guns. If
only my notice were found! If only the existence of this lair of Back
Cup were known! Means would soon be found, if not of destroying the
place, at least of starving the band into submission!
-October 20-.--To my extreme surprise I find this morning that the tug
has gone away again. I recall that yesterday the elements of the piles
were renewed, but I thought it was only to keep them in order. In
view of the fact that the outside can now be reached through the new
tunnel, and that Thomas Roch has everything he requires, I can only
conclude that the tug has gone off on another marauding expedition.
Yet this is the season of the equinoctial gales, and the Bermudan
waters are swept by frequent tempests. This is evident from the
violent gusts that drive back the smoke through the crater and the
heavy rain that accompanies it, as well as by the water in the lagoon,
which swells and washes over the brown rocks on its shores.
But it is by no means sure that the -Ebba- has quitted her cove.
However staunch she may be, she is, it seems to me, of too light a
build to face such tempests as now rage, even with the help of the
tug.
On the other hand, although the tug has nothing to fear from the heavy
seas, as it would be in calm water a few yards below the surface, it
is hardly likely that it has gone on a trip unless to accompany the
schooner.
I do not know to what its departure can be attributed, but its absence
is likely to be prolonged, for it has not yet returned.
Engineer Serko has remained behind, but Ker Karraje, Captain Spade,
and the crew of the schooner, I find, have left.
Life in the cavern goes on with its usual dispiriting monotony. I pass
hour after hour in my cell, meditating, hoping, despairing, following
in fancy the voyage of my little barrel, tossed about at the mercy
of the currents and whose chances of being picked up, I fear, are
becoming fainter each day, and killing time by writing my diary, which
will probably not survive me.
Thomas Roch is constantly occupied in his laboratory manufacturing his
deflagrator. I still entertain the conviction that nothing will ever
induce him to give up the secret of the liquid's composition; but I am
perfectly aware that he will not hesitate to place his invention at
Ker Karraje's service.
I often meet Engineer Serko when my strolls take me in the direction
of the Beehive. He always shows himself disposed to chat with me,
though, it is true, he does so in a tone of impertinent frivolity.
We converse upon all sorts of subjects, but rarely of my position.
Recrimination thereanent is useless and only subjects me to renewed
bantering.
-October 22-.--To-day I asked Engineer Serko whether the -Ebba- had
put to sea again with the tug.
"Yes, Mr. Simon Hart," he replied, "and though the clouds gather and
loud the tempest roars, be in no uneasiness in regard to our dear
-Ebba-."
"Will she be gone long?"
"We expect her back within forty-eight hours. It is the last voyage
Count d'Artigas proposes to make before the winter gales render
navigation in these parts impracticable."
"Is her voyage one of business or pleasure?"
"Of business, Mr. Hart, of business," answered Engineer Serko with
a smile. "Our engines are now completed, and when the fine weather
returns we shall resume offensive operations."
"Against unfortunate merchantmen."
"As unfortunate as they are richly laden."
"Acts of piracy, whose impunity will, I trust, not always be assured,"
I cried..
"Calm yourself, dear colleague, be calm! Be calm! No one, you know,
can ever discover our retreat, and none can ever disclose the secret!
Besides, with these engines, which are so easily handled and are of
such terrible power, it would be easy for us to blow to pieces any
ship that attempted to get within a certain radius of the island."
"Providing," I said, "that Thomas Roch has sold you the composition of
his deflagrator as he has sold you that of his fulgurator."
"That he has done, Mr. Hart, and it behooves me to set your mind at
rest upon that point."
From this categorical response I ought to have concluded that the
misfortune had been consummated, but a certain hesitation in the
intonation of his voice warned me that implicit reliance was not to be
placed upon Engineer Serko's assertions.
-October 25-.--What a frightful adventure I have just been mixed up
in, and what a wonder I did not lose my life! It is only by a miracle
that I am able to resume these notes, which have been interrupted for
forty-eight hours. With a little luck, I should have been delivered!
I should now be in one of the Bermudan ports--St. George or Hamilton.
The mysteries of Back Cup would have been cleared up. The description
of the schooner would have been wired all over the world, and she
would not dare to put into any port. The provisioning of Back Cup
would be impossible, and Ker Karraje's bandits would be condemned to
starve to death!
This is what occurred:
At eight o'clock in the evening on October 23, I quitted my cell in
an indefinable state of nervousness, and with a presentiment that a
serious event was imminent. In vain I had tried to seek calmness in
sleep. It was impossible to do so, and I rose and went out.
Outside Back Cup the weather must have been very rough. Violent gusts
of wind swept in through the crater and agitated the water of the
lagoon.
I walked along the shore on the Beehive side. No one was about. It
was rather cold, and the air was damp. The pirates were all snugly
ensconced in their cells, with the exception of one man, who stood
guard over the new passage, notwithstanding that the outer entrance
had been blocked. From where he was this man could not see the lagoon,
moreover there were only two lamps alight, one on each side of
the lake, and the forest of pillars was wrapt in the profoundest
obscurity.
I was walking about in the shadow, when some one passed me.
I saw that he was Thomas Roch.
He was walking slowly, absorbed by his thoughts, his brain at work, as
usual.
Was this not a favorable opportunity to talk to him, to enlighten him
about what he was probably ignorant, namely, the character of the
people into whose hands he had fallen?
"He cannot," I argued, "know that the Count d'Artigas is none other
than Ker Karraje, the pirate. He cannot be aware that he has given up
a part of his invention to such a bandit. I must open his eyes to the
fact that he will never be able to enjoy his millions, that he is a
prisoner in Back Cup, and will never be allowed to leave it, any
more than I shall. Yes, I will make an appeal to his sentiments of
humanity, and point out to him what frightful misfortunes he will be
responsible for if he does not keep the secret of his deflagrator."
All this I had said to myself, and was preparing to carry out my
resolution, when I suddenly felt myself seized from behind.
Two men held me by the arms, and another appeared in front of me.
Before I had time to cry out the man exclaimed in English:
"Hush! not a word! Are you not Simon Hart?"
"Yes, how did you know?"
"I saw you come out of your cell."
"Who are you, then?"
"Lieutenant Davon, of the British Navy, of H.M.S. -Standard-, which is
stationed at the Bermudas."
Emotion choked me so that it was impossible for me to utter a word.
"We have come to rescue you from Ker Karraje, and also propose to
carry off Thomas Roch," he added.
"Thomas Roch?" I stammered.
"Yes, the document signed by you was found on the beach at St.
George----"
"In a keg, Lieutenant Davon, which I committed to the waters of the
lagoon."
"And which contained," went on the officer, "the notice by which we
were apprised that the island of Back Cup served as a refuge for Ker
Karraje and his band--Ker Karraje, this false Count d'Artigas, the
author of the double abduction from Healthful House."
"Ah! Lieutenant Davon----"
"Now we have not a moment to spare, we must profit by the obscurity."
"One word, Lieutenant Davon, how did you penetrate to the interior of
Back Cup?"
"By means of the submarine boat -Sword-, with which we have been
making experiments at St. George for six months past."
"A submarine boat!"
"Yes, it awaits us at the foot of the rocks. And now, Mr. Hart, where
is Ker Karraje's tug?"
"It has been away for three weeks."
"Ker Karraje is not here, then?"
"No, but we expect him back every day--every hour, I might say."
"It matters little," replied Lieutenant Davon. "It is not after Ker
Karraje, but Thomas Roch, we have come--and you also, Mr. Hart. The
-Sword- will not leave the lagoon till you are both on board. If she
does not turn up at St. George again, they will know that I have
failed--and they will try again."
"Where is the -Sword-, Lieutenant?"
"On this side, in the shadow of the bank, where it cannot be seen.
Thanks to your directions, I and my crew were able to locate the
tunnel. We came through all right, and ten minutes ago rose to the
surface of the lake. Two men landed with me. I saw you issue from the
cell marked on your plan. Do you know where Thomas Roch is?"
"A few paces off. He has just passed me, on his way to his
laboratory."
"God be praised, Mr. Hart!"
"Amen, Lieutenant Davon."
The lieutenant, the two men and I took the path around the lagoon.
We had not gone far when we perceived Thomas Roch in front of us. To
throw ourselves upon him, gag him before he could utter a cry, bind
him before he could offer any resistance, and bear him off to the
place where the -Sword- was moored was the work of a minute.
The -Sword- was a submersible boat of only twelve tons, and
consequently much inferior to the tug, both in respect of dimensions
and power. Her screw was worked by a couple of dynamos fitted with
accumulators that had been charged twelve hours previously in the port
of St. George. However, the -Sword- would suffice to take us out of
this prison, to restore us to liberty--that liberty of which I had
given up all hope. Thomas Roch was at last to be rescued from the
clutches of Ker Karraje and Engineer Serko. The rascals would not be
able to utilize his invention, and nothing could prevent the warships
from landing a storming party on the island, who would force the
tunnel in the wall and secure the pirates!
We saw no one while the two men were conveying Thomas Roch to the
-Sword-, and all got on board without incident. The lid was shut and
secured, the water compartments filled, and the -Sword- sank out of
sight. We were saved!
The -Sword- was divided into three water-tight compartments. The after
one contained the accumulators and machinery. The middle one, occupied
by the pilot, was surmounted by a periscope fitted with lenticular
portholes, through which an electric search-lamp lighted the way
through the water. Forward, in the other compartment, Thomas Roch and
I were shut in.
My companion, though the gag which was choking him had been removed,
was still bound, and, I thought, knew what was going on.
But we were in a hurry to be off, and hoped to reach St. George that
very night if no obstacle was encountered.
I pushed open the door of the compartment and rejoined Lieutenant
Davon, who was standing by the man at the wheel. In the after
compartment three other men, including the engineer, awaited the
lieutenant's orders to set the machinery in motion.
"Lieutenant Davon," I said, "I do not think there is any particular
reason why I should stay in there with Roch. If I can help you to get
through the tunnel, pray command me."
"Yes, I shall be glad to have you by me, Mr. Hart."
It was then exactly thirty-seven minutes past eight.
The search-lamp threw a vague light through the water ahead of the
-Sword-. From where we were, we had to cross the lagoon through its
entire length to get to the tunnel. It would be pretty difficult to
fetch it, we knew, but, if necessary, we could hug the sides of the
lake until we located it. Once outside the tunnel the -Sword- would
rise to the surface and make for St. George at full speed.
"At what depth are we now?" I asked the lieutenant.
"About a fathom."
"It is not necessary to go any lower," I said. "From what I was able
to observe during the equinoctial tides, I should think that we are in
the axis of the tunnel."
"All right," he replied.
Yes, it was all right, and I felt that Providence was speaking by the
mouth of the officer. Certainly Providence could not have chosen a
better agent to work its will.
In the light of the lamp I examined him. He was about thirty years of
age, cool, phlegmatic, with resolute physiognomy--the English officer
in all his native impassibility--no more disturbed than if he had been
on board the -Standard-, operating with extraordinary -sang-froid,- I
might even say, with the precision of a machine.
"On coming through the tunnel I estimated its length at about fifty
yards," he remarked.
"Yes, Lieutenant, about fifty yards from one extremity to the other."
This calculation must have been pretty exact, since the new tunnel cut
on a level with the coast is thirty-five feet in length.
The order was given to go ahead, and the -Sword- moved forward very
slowly for fear of colliding against the rocky side.
Sometimes we came near enough to it to distinguish a black mass ahead
of it, but a turn of the wheel put us in the right direction again.
Navigating a submarine boat in the open sea is difficult enough. How
much more so in the confines of a lagoon!
After five minutes' manoeuvring, the -Sword-, which was kept at about
a fathom below the surface, had not succeeded in sighting the orifice.
"Perhaps it would be better to return to the surface, Lieutenant," I
said. "We should then be able to see where we are."
"I think you are right, Mr. Hart, if you can point out just about
where the tunnel is located."
"I think I can."
"Very well, then."
As a precaution the light was turned off. The engineer set the pumps
in motion, and, lightened of its water ballast, the boat slowly rose
in the darkness to the surface.
I remained at my post so that I could peer through the lookouts.
At last the ascensional movement of the -Sword- stopped, and the
periscope emerged about a foot.
On one side of me, lighted by the lamp by the shore, I could see the
Beehive.
"What is your opinion?" demanded the lieutenant.
"We are too far north. The orifice is in the west side of the cavern."
"Is anybody about?"
"Not a soul."
"Capital, Mr. Hart. Then we will keep on a level with the surface, and
when we are in front of the tunnel, and you give the signal, we will
sink."
It was the best thing to be done. We moved off again and the pilot
kept her head towards the tunnel.
When we were about twelve yards off I gave the signal to stop. As soon
as the current was turned off the -Sword- stopped, opened her water
tanks and slowly sank again.
Then the light in the lookout was turned on again, and there in front
of us was a black circle that did not reflect the lamp's rays.
"There it is, there is the tunnel!" I cried.
Was it not the door by which I was going to escape from my prison? Was
not liberty awaiting me on the other side?
Gently the -Sword- moved towards the orifice.
Oh! the horrible mischance! How have I survived it? How is it that my
heart is not broken?
A dim light appeared in the depth of the tunnel, about twenty-five
yards in front of us. The advancing light could be none other than
that, projected through the lookout of Ker Karraje's submarine boat.
"The tug! The tug!" I exclaimed. "Lieutenant, here is the tug
returning to Back Cup!"
"Full speed astern," ordered the officer, and the -Sword- drew back
just as she was about to enter the tunnel.
One chance remained. The lieutenant had swiftly turned off the light,
and it was just possible that we had not been seen by the people in
the tug. Perhaps, in the dark waters of the lagoon, we should escape
notice, and when the oncoming boat had risen and moored to the jetty,
we should be able to slip out unperceived.
We had backed close in to the south side and the -Sword- was about to
stop, but alas, for our hopes! Captain Spade had seen that another
submarine boat was about to issue through the tunnel, and he was
making preparations to chase us. How could a frail craft like the
-Sword- defend itself against the attacks of Ker Karraje's powerful
machine?
Lieutenant Davon turned to me and said: "Go back to the compartment
where Thomas Roch is and shut yourself in. I will close the
after-door. There is just a chance that if the tug rams us the
water-tight compartments will keep us up."
After shaking hands with the lieutenant, who was as cool as though we
were in no danger, I went forward and rejoined Thomas Roch. I closed
the door and awaited the issue in profound darkness.
Then I could feel the desperate efforts made by the -Sword- to
escape from or ram her enemy. I could feel her rushing, gyrating and
plunging. Now she would twist to avoid a collision. Now she would rise
to the surface, then sink to the bottom of the lagoon. Can any one
conceive such a struggle as that in which, like two marine monsters,
these machines were engaged in beneath the troubled waters of this
inland lake?
A few minutes elapsed, and I began to think that the -Sword- had
eluded the tug and was rushing through the tunnel.
Suddenly there was a collision. The shock was not, it seemed to me,
very violent, but I could be under no illusion: the -Sword- had been
struck on her starboard quarter. Perhaps her plates had resisted,
and if not, the water would only invade one of her compartments, I
thought.
Almost immediately after, however, there was another shock that pushed
the -Sword- with extreme violence. She was raised by the ram of the
tug which sawed and ripped its way into her side. Then I could feel
her heel over and sink straight down, stern foremost.
Thomas Roch and I were tumbled over violently by. this movement. There
was another bump, another ripping sound, and the -Sword- lay still.
Just what happened after that I am unable to say, for I lost
consciousness.
I have since learned that all this occurred many hours ago.
I however distinctly remember that my last thought was:
"If I am to die, at any rate Thomas Roch and his secret perish with
me--and the pirates of Back Cup will not escape punishment for their
crimes."
CHAPTER XV.
EXPECTATION.
As soon as I recover my senses I find myself lying on my bed in my
cell, where it appears I have been lying for thirty-six hours.
I am not alone. Engineer Serko is near me. He has attended to me
himself, not because he regards me as a friend, I surmise, but as
a man from whom indispensable explanations are awaited, and who
afterwards can be done away with if necessary.
I am still so weak that I could not walk a step. A little more and I
should have been asphyxiated in that narrow compartment of the -Sword-
at the bottom of the lagoon.
Am I in condition to reply to the questions that Engineer Serko is
dying to put to me? Yes--but I shall maintain the utmost reserve.
In the first place I wonder what has become of Lieutenant Davon and
the crew of the -Sword-. Did those brave Englishmen perish in the
collision? Are they safe and sound like us--for I suppose that Thomas
Roch has also survived?
The first question that Engineer Serko puts to me is this:
"Will you explain to me what happened, Mr. Hart?"
Instead of replying it occurs to me to question him myself.
"And Thomas Roch?" I inquire.
"In good health, Mr. Hart." Then he adds in an imperious tone: "Tell
me what occurred!"
"In the first place, tell me what became of the others."
"What others?" replies Serko, glancing at me savagely.
"Why, those men who threw themselves upon Thomas Roch and me, who
gagged, bound, and carried us off and shut us up, I know not where?"
On reflection I had come to the conclusion that the best thing to do
was to pretend that I had been surprised before I knew where I was or
who my aggressors were.
"You will know what became of them later. But first, tell me how, the
thing was done."
By the threatening tone of his voice, as he for the third time puts
this question, I understand the nature of the suspicions entertained
of me. Yet to be in the position to accuse me of having had relations
with the outside he would have had to get possession of my keg. This
he could not have done, seeing that it is in the hands of the Bermudan
authorities. The pirates cannot, I am convinced, have a single proof
to back up their suspicions.
I therefore recount how about eight o'clock on the previous evening I
was walking along the edge of the lagoon, after Thomas Roch had passed
me, going towards his laboratory, when I felt myself seized from
behind; how having been gagged, bound, and blindfolded, I felt myself
carried off and lowered into a hole with another person whom I thought
I recognized from his groans as Thomas Roch; how I soon felt that I
was on board a boat of some description and naturally concluded that
it was the tug; how I felt it sink; how I felt a shock that threw me
violently against the side, and how I felt myself suffocating and lost
consciousness, since I remember nothing further.
Engineer Serko listens with profound attention, a stern look in his
eyes and a frown on his brow; and yet he can have no reason that
authorizes him to doubt my word.
"You claim that three men threw themselves upon you?" he asks.
"Yes. I thought they were some of your people, for I did not see them
coming. Who were they?"
"Strangers, as you must have known from their language."
"They did not utter a word!"
"Have you no idea as to their nationality?"
"Not the remotest."
Do you know what were their intentions in entering the cavern?"
"I do not."
"What is your opinion about it?"
"My opinion, Mr. Serko? I repeat I thought they were two or three of
your pirates who had come to throw me into the lagoon by the Count
d'Artigas' orders, and that they were going to do the same thing to
Thomas Roch. I supposed that having obtained his secrets--as you
informed me was the case--you had no further use for him and were
about to get rid of us both."
"Is it possible, Mr. Hart, that you could have thought such a thing!"
continued Serko in his sarcastic way.
"I did, until having been able to remove the bandage from my eyes, I
perceived that I was in the tug."
"It was not the tug, but a boat of the same kind that had got through
the tunnel."
"A submarine boat?" I ejaculate.
"Yes, and manned by persons whose mission was to kidnap you and Thomas
Roch."
"Kidnap us?" I echo, continuing to feign surprise.
"And," adds Engineer Serko, "I want to know what you think about the
matter."
"What I think about it? Well, it appears to me that there is only one
plausible explanation possible. If the secret of your retreat has not
been betrayed--and I cannot conceive how you could have been betrayed
or what imprudence you or yours could have committed--my opinion is
that this submarine boat was exploring the bottom of the sea in this
neighborhood, that she must have found her way into the tunnel,
that she rose to the surface of the lagoon, that her crew, greatly
surprised to find themselves inside an inhabited cavern, seized hold
of the first persons they came across, Thomas Roch and myself, and
others as well perhaps, for of course I do not know----"
Engineer Serko has become serious again. Does he realize the inanity
of the hypothesis I try to pass off on him? Does he think I know more
than I will say? However this may be, he accepts my professed view,
and says:
"In effect, Mr. Hart, it must have happened as you suggest, and when
the stranger tried to make her way out through the tunnel just as the
tug was entering, there was a collision--a collision of which she was
the victim. But we are not the kind of people to allow our fellow-men
to perish before our eyes. Moreover, the disappearance of Thomas Roch
and yourself was almost immediately discovered. Two such valuable
lives had to be saved at all hazards. We set to work. There are many
expert divers among our men. They hastily donned their suits and
descended to the bottom of the lagoon. They passed lines around the
hull of the -Sword-----"
"The -Sword-?" I exclaim.
"That is the name we saw painted on the bow of the vessel when we
raised her to the surface. What satisfaction we experienced when we
recovered you--unconscious, it is true, but still breathing--and were
able to bring you back to life! Unfortunately all our attentions to
the officer who commanded the -Sword-, and to his crew were useless.
The shock had torn open the after and middle compartments, and
they paid with their lives the misfortune--due to chance, as you
observe--of having discovered our mysterious retreat."
On learning that Lieutenant Davon and his companions are dead, my
heart is filled with anguish; but to keep up my role--as they were
persons with whom, presumably, I was not acquainted, and had never
seen--I am careful not to display any emotion. I must, on no account,
afford ground for the suspicion that there was any connivance between
the commander of the -Sword- and me. For aught I know, Engineer Serko
may have reason to be very skeptical about the discovery of the tunnel
being accidental.
What, however, I am most concerned about is that the unlooked-for
occasion to recover my liberty was lost. Shall I ever be afforded
another chance? However this may be, my notice reached the English
authorities of the archipelago, and they now know where Ker Karraje
is to be found. When it is seen that the -Sword- does not return to
Bermuda, there can be no doubt that another attempt will be made to
get inside Back Cup, in which, had it not been for the inopportune
return of the tug, I should no longer be a prisoner.
I have resumed my usual existence, and having allayed all mistrust, am
permitted to wander freely about the cavern, as usual.
It is patent that the adventure has had no ill effect upon Thomas
Roch. Intelligent nursing brought him around, as it did me. In full
possession of his mental faculties he has returned to work, and spends
the entire day in his laboratory.
The -Ebba- brought back from her last trip bales, boxes, and a
quantity of objects of varied origin, and I conclude that a number of
ships must have been pillaged during this marauding expedition.
The work on the trestles for Roch's engine goes steadily forward, and
there are now no fewer than fifty engines. If Ker Karraje and Engineer
Serko are under the necessity of defending Back Cup, three or four
will be sufficient to render the island unapproachable, as they will
cover a zone which no vessel could enter without being blown to
pieces. And it occurs to me that they intend to put Back Cup in a
state of defence after having argued as follows:
"If the appearance of the -Sword- in the lagoon was due to chance the
situation remains unchanged, and no power, not even England, will
think of seeking for the -Sword- inside the cavern. If, on the other
hand, as the result of an incomprehensible revelation, it has been
learned that Back Cup is become the retreat of Ker Karraje, if the
expedition of the -Sword- was a first effort against the island,
another of a different kind--either a bombardment from a distance, or
an attack by a landing party--is to be expected. Therefore, ere we
can quit Back Cup and carry away our plunder, we shall have to defend
ourselves by means of Roch's fulgurator."
In my opinion the rascals must have gone on to reason still further in
this wise:
"Is there any connection between the disclosure of our secret--if it
was, and however it may have been made--and the double abduction from
Healthful House? Is it known that Thomas Roch and his keeper are
confined in Back Cup? Is it known that the abduction was effected in
the interest of Ker Karraje? Have Americans, English, French, Germans,
and Russians reason to fear that an attack in force against the island
would be doomed to failure?"
Ker Karraje must know very well that these powers would not hesitate
to attack him, however great the danger might be. The destruction of
his lair is an urgent duty in the interest of public security and
of humanity. After sweeping the West Pacific the pirate and his
companions are infesting the West Atlantic, and must be wiped out at
all costs.
In any case, it is imperative that the inhabitants of Back Cup should
be on their guard. This fact is realized, and, from the day on which
the -Sword- was destroyed, strict watch has been kept. Thanks to the
new passage, they are able to hide among the rocks without having
recourse to the submarine tunnel to get there, and day and night a
dozen sentries are posted about the island. The moment a ship appears
in sight the fact is at once made known inside the cavern.
Nothing occurs for some days, and the latter succeed each other with
dreadful monotony. The pirates, however, feel that Back Cup no longer
enjoys its former security. Every moment an alarm from the sentries
posted outside is expected. The situation is no longer the same since
the advent of the -Sword-. Gallant Lieutenant Davon, gallant crew,
may England, may the civilized nations, never forget that you have
sacrificed your lives in the cause of humanity!
It is evident that now, however powerful may be their means of
defence, even more powerful than a network of torpedoes, Engineer
Serko and Captain Spade are filled with an anxiety that they vainly
essay to dissemble. They hold frequent conferences together. Maybe
they discuss the advisability of quitting Back Cup with their wealth,
for they are aware that if the existence of the cavern is known means
will be found to reduce it, even if the inmates have to be starved
out.
This is, of course, mere conjecture on my part. What is essential to
me is that they do not suspect me of having launched the keg that
was so providentially picked up at Bermuda. Never, I must say, has
Engineer Serko ever made any allusion to any such probability. No, I
am not even suspected. If the contrary were the case I am sufficiently
acquainted with Ker Karraje to know that he would long ago have sent
me to rejoin Lieutenant Davon and the -Sword- at the bottom of the
lagoon.
The winter tempests have set in with a vengeance. The wind howls
though the hole in the roof, and rude gusts sweep through the forest
of pillars producing sonorous sounds, so sonorous, so deep, that one
might sometimes almost fancy they were produced by the firing of the
guns of a squadron. Flocks of seabirds take refuge in the cavern from
the gale, and at intervals, when it lulls, almost deafen us with their
screaming.
It is to be presumed that in such weather the schooner will make no
attempt to put to sea, for the stock of provisions is ample enough to
last all the season. Moreover, I imagine the Count d'Artigas will not
be so eager in future to show his -Ebba- along the American
coast, where he risks being received, not, as hitherto, with the
consideration due to a wealthy yachtsman, but in the manner Ker
Karraje so richly merits.
It occurs to me that if the apparition of the -Sword- was the
commencement of a campaign against the island, a question of great
moment relative to the future of Back Cup arises.
Therefore, one day, prudently, so as not to excite any suspicion, I
ventured to pump Engineer Serko about it.
We were in the neighborhood of Thomas Roch's laboratory, and had
been conversing for some time, when Engineer Serko touched upon the
extraordinary apparition of an English submarine boat in the lagoon.
On this occasion he seemed to incline to the view that it might have
been a premeditated expedition against Ker Karraje.
"That is not my opinion," I replied, in order to bring him to the
question that I wanted to put to him.
"Why?" he demanded.
"Because if your retreat were known a fresh attempt, if not to
penetrate to the cavern, at least to destroy Back Cup, would ere this
have been made."
"Destroy it!" cried Serko. "It would be a dangerous undertaking, in
view of the means of defence of which we now dispose."
"They can know nothing about this matter, Mr. Serko. It is not
imagined, either in the new world or the old, that the abduction from
Healthful House was effected for your especial benefit, or that you
have succeeded in coming to terms with Thomas Roch for his invention."
Engineer Serko made no response to this observation, which, for that
matter, was unanswerable.
I continued:
"Therefore a squadron sent by the maritime powers who have an interest
in breaking up this island would not hesitate to approach and shell
it. Now, I argue from this that as this squadron has not yet appeared,
it is not likely to come at all, and that nothing is known as to Ker
Karraje's whereabouts, and you must admit that this hypothesis is the
most cheerful one, as far as you are concerned."
"That may be," Engineer Serko replied, "but what is, is. Whether they
are aware of the fact or no, if warships approach within five or six
miles of this island they will be sunk before they have had time to
fire a single shot!"
"Well, and what then?"
"What then? Why the probability is that no others would care to repeat
the experiment."
"That, again, may be. But these warships would invest you beyond the
dangerous zone, and the -Ebba- would not be able to put in to the
ports she previously visited with the Count d'Artigas. In this event,
how would you be able to provision the island?"
Engineer Serko remained silent.
This argument, which he must already have brooded over, was too
logical to be refuted or dismissed, and I have an idea that the
pirates contemplate abandoning Back Cup.
Nevertheless, not relishing being cornered, he continued:
"We should still have the tug, and what the -Ebba- could not do, this
would."
"The tug?" I cried. "But if Ker Karraje's secrets are known, do you
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