Facing the Flag by Jules Verne
[Redactor's Note: -Facing the Flag- {number V044 in the T&M listing of
Verne's works} is an anonymous translation of -Face au drapeau- (1896)
first published in the U.S. by F. Tennyson Neely in 1897, and later
(circa 1903) republished from the same plates by Hurst and F.M. Lupton
(Federal Book Co.). This is a different translation from the one
published by Sampson & Low in England entitled -For the Flag- (1897)
translated by Mrs. Cashel Hoey.]
New York
THE F. M. LUPTON PUBLISHING COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
1897
------------------------------------------------------------------------
FACING THE FLAG.
CHAPTER I.
HEALTHFUL HOUSE.
The -carte de visite- received that day, June 15, 189-, by the
director of the establishment of Healthful House was a very neat one,
and simply bore, without escutcheon or coronet, the name:
COUNT D'ARTIGAS.
Below this name, in a corner of the card, the following address was
written in lead pencil:
"On board the schooner -Ebba-, anchored off New-Berne, Pamlico Sound."
The capital of North Carolina--one of the forty-four states of the
Union at this epoch--is the rather important town of Raleigh, which is
about one hundred and fifty miles in the interior of the province. It
is owing to its central position that this city has become the seat
of the State legislature, for there are others that equal and
even surpass it in industrial and commercial importance, such as
Wilmington, Charlotte, Fayetteville, Edenton, Washington, Salisbury,
Tarborough, Halifax, and New-Berne. The latter town is situated on
estuary of the Neuse River, which empties itself into Pamlico Sound, a
sort of vast maritime lake protected by a natural dyke formed by the
isles and islets of the Carolina coast.
The director of Healthful House could never have imagined why the card
should have been sent to him, had it not been accompanied by a
note from the Count d'Artigas soliciting permission to visit the
establishment. The personage in question hoped that the director would
grant his request, and announced that he would present himself in the
afternoon, accompanied by Captain Spade, commander of the schooner
-Ebba-.
This desire to penetrate to the interior of the celebrated sanitarium,
then in great request by the wealthy invalids of the United States,
was natural enough on the part of a foreigner. Others who did not bear
such a high-sounding name as the Count d'Artigas had visited it, and
had been unstinting in their compliments to the director. The latter
therefore hastened to accord the authorization demanded, and added
that he would be honored to open the doors of the establishment to the
Count d'Artigas.
Healthful House, which contained a select -personnel-, and was assured
of the co-operation of the most celebrated doctors in the country, was
a private enterprise. Independent of hospitals and almshouses, but
subjected to the surveillance of the State, it comprised all the
conditions of comfort and salubrity essential to establishments of
this description designed to receive an opulent -clientele-.
It would have been difficult to find a more agreeable situation than
that of Healthful House. On the landward slope of a hill extended a
park of two hundred acres planted with the magnificent vegetation that
grows so luxuriantly in that part of North America, which is equal in
latitude to the Canary and Madeira Islands. At the furthermost limit
of the park lay the wide estuary of the Neuse, swept by the cool
breezes of Pamlico Sound and by the winds that blew from the ocean
beyond the narrow -lido- of the coast.
Healthful House, where rich invalids were cared for under such
excellent hygienic conditions, was more generally reserved for the
treatment of chronic complaints; but the management did not decline to
admit patients affected by mental troubles, when the latter were not
of an incurable nature.
It thus happened--a circumstance that was bound to attract a good deal
of attention to Healthful House, and which perhaps was the motive
for the visit of the Count d'Artigas--that a person of world-wide
notoriety had for eighteen months been under special observation
there.
This person was a Frenchman named Thomas Roch, forty-five years of
age. He was, beyond question, suffering from some mental malady, but
expert alienists admitted that he had not entirely lost the use of
his reasoning faculties. It was only too evident that he had lost all
notion of things as far as the ordinary acts of life were concerned;
but in regard to subjects demanding the exercise of his genius, his
sanity was unimpaired and unassailable--a fact which demonstrates how
true is the -dictum- that genius and madness are often closely
allied! Otherwise his condition manifested itself by complete loss
of memory;--the impossibility of concentrating his attention upon
anything, lack of judgment, delirium and incoherence. He no longer
even possessed the natural animal instinct of self-preservation, and
had to be watched like an infant whom one never permits out of one's
sight. Therefore a warder was detailed to keep close watch over him
by day and by night in Pavilion No. 17, at the end of Healthful House
Park, which had been specially set apart for him.
Ordinary insanity, when it is not incurable, can only be cured by
moral means. Medicine and therapeutics are powerless, and their
inefficacy has long been recognized by specialists. Were these moral
means applicable to the case of Thomas Roch? One may be permitted
to doubt it, even amid the tranquil and salubrious surroundings of
Healthful House. As a matter of fact the very symptoms of uneasiness,
changes of temper, irritability, queer traits of character,
melancholy, apathy, and a repugnance for serious occupations were
distinctly apparent; no treatment seemed capable of curing or even
alleviating these symptoms. This was patent to all his medical
attendants.
It has been justly remarked that madness is an excess of subjectivity;
that is to say, a state in which the mind accords too much to mental
labor and not enough to outward impressions. In the case of Thomas
Roch this indifference was practically absolute. He lived but within
himself, so to speak, a prey to a fixed idea which had brought him to
the condition in which we find him. Could any circumstance occur
to counteract it--to "exteriorize" him, as it were? The thing was
improbable, but it was not impossible.
It is now necessary to explain how this Frenchman came to quit France,
what motive attracted him to the United States, why the Federal
government had judged it prudent and necessary to intern him in this
sanitarium, where every utterance that unconsciously escaped him
during his crises were noted and recorded with the minutest care.
Eighteen months previously the Secretary of the Navy at Washington,
had received a demand for an audience in regard to a communication
that Thomas Roch desired to make to him.
As soon as he glanced at the name, the secretary perfectly understood
the nature of the communication and the terms which would accompany
it, and an immediate audience was unhesitatingly accorded.
Thomas Roch's notoriety was indeed such that, out of solicitude for
the interests confided to his keeping, and which he was bound to
safeguard, he could not hesitate to receive the petitioner and listen
to the proposals which the latter desired personally to submit to him.
Thomas Roch was an inventor--an inventor of genius. Several important
discoveries had brought him prominently to the notice of the
world. Thanks to him, problems that had previously remained purely
theoretical had received practical application. He occupied a
conspicuous place in the front rank of the army of science. It will be
seen how worry, deceptions, mortification, and the outrages with which
he was overwhelmed by the cynical wits of the press combined to drive
him to that degree of madness which necessitated his internment in
Healthful House.
His latest invention in war-engines bore the name of Roch's
Fulgurator. This apparatus possessed, if he was to be believed, such
superiority over all others, that the State which acquired it would
become absolute master of earth and ocean.
The deplorable difficulties inventors encounter in connection with
their inventions are only too well known, especially when they
endeavor to get them adopted by governmental commissions. Several of
the most celebrated examples are still fresh in everybody's memory.
It is useless to insist upon this point, because there are sometimes
circumstances underlying affairs of this kind upon which it is
difficult to obtain any light. In regard to Thomas Roch, however,
it is only fair to say that, as in the case of the majority of his
predecessors, his pretensions were excessive. He placed such an
exorbitant price upon his new engine that it was practicably
impossible to treat with him.
This was due to the fact--and it should not be lost sight of--that in
respect of previous inventions which had been most fruitful in result,
he had been imposed upon with the greatest audacity. Being unable
to obtain therefrom the profits which he had a right to expect, his
temper had become soured. He became suspicious, would give up nothing
without knowing just what he was doing, impose conditions that
were perhaps unacceptable, wanted his mere assertions accepted as
sufficient guarantee, and in any case asked for such a large sum of
money on account before condescending to furnish the test of practical
experiment that his overtures could not be entertained.
In the first place he had offered the fulgurator to France, and made
known the nature of it to the commission appointed to pass upon his
proposition. The fulgurator was a sort of auto-propulsive engine,
of peculiar construction, charged with an explosive composed of new
substances and which only produced its effect under the action of a
deflagrator that was also new.
When this engine, no matter in what way it was launched, exploded, not
on striking the object aimed at, but several hundred yards from it,
its action upon the atmospheric strata was so terrific that any
construction, warship or floating battery, within a zone of twelve
thousand square yards, would be blown to atoms. This was the principle
of the shell launched by the Zalinski pneumatic gun with which
experiments had already been made at that epoch, but its results were
multiplied at least a hundred-fold.
If, therefore, Thomas Roch's invention possessed this power, it
assured the offensive and defensive superiority of his native country.
But might not the inventor be exaggerating, notwithstanding that the
tests of other engines he had conceived had proved incontestably that
they were all he had claimed them to be? This, experiment could alone
show, and it was precisely here where the rub came in. Roch would
not agree to experiment until the millions at which he valued his
fulgurator had first been paid to him.
It is certain that a sort of disequilibrium had then occurred in his
mental faculties. It was felt that he was developing a condition of
mind that would gradually lead to definite madness. No government
could possibly condescend to treat with him under the conditions he
imposed.
The French commission was compelled to break off all negotiations with
him, and the newspapers, even those of the Radical Opposition, had to
admit that it was difficult to follow up the affair.
In view of the excess of subjectivity which was unceasingly augmenting
in the profoundly disturbed mind of Thomas Roch, no one will be
surprised at the fact that the cord of patriotism gradually relaxed
until it ceased to vibrate. For the honor of human nature be it said
that Thomas Roch was by this time irresponsible for his actions. He
preserved his whole consciousness only in so far as subjects bearing
directly upon his invention were concerned. In this particular he had
lost nothing of his mental power. But in all that related to the most
ordinary details of existence his moral decrepitude increased daily
and deprived him of complete responsibility for his acts.
Thomas Roch's invention having been refused by the commission, steps
ought to have been taken to prevent him from offering it elsewhere.
Nothing of the kind was done, and there a great mistake was made.
The inevitable was bound to happen, and it did. Under a growing
irritability the sentiment of patriotism, which is the very essence of
the citizen--who before belonging to himself belongs to his country--
became extinct in the soul of the disappointed inventor. His thoughts
turned towards other nations. He crossed the frontier, and forgetting
the ineffaceable past, offered the fulgurator to Germany.
There, as soon as his exorbitant demands were made known, the
government refused to receive his communication. Besides, it so
happened that the military authorities were just then absorbed by the
construction of a new ballistic engine, and imagined they could afford
to ignore that of the French inventor.
As the result of this second rebuff Roch's anger became coupled with
hatred--an instinctive hatred of humanity--especially after his
-pourparlers- with the British Admiralty came to naught. The English
being practical people, did not at first repulse Thomas Roch. They
sounded him and tried to get round him; but Roch would listen to
nothing. His secret was worth millions, and these millions he would
have, or they would not have his secret. The Admiralty at last
declined to have anything more to do with him.
It was in these conditions, when his intellectual trouble was growing
daily worse, that he made a last effort by approaching the American
Government. That was about eighteen months before this story opens.
The Americans, being even more practical than the English, did not
attempt to bargain for Roch's fulgurator, to which, in view of the
French chemist's reputation, they attached exceptional importance.
They rightly esteemed him a man of genius, and took the measures
justified by his condition, prepared to indemnify him equitably later.
As Thomas Roch gave only too visible proofs of mental alienation,
the Administration, in the very interest of his invention, judged it
prudent to sequestrate him.
As is already known, he was not confined in a lunatic asylum, but was
conveyed to Healthful House, which offered every guarantee for the
proper treatment of his malady. Yet, though the most careful attention
had been devoted to him, no improvement had manifested itself.
Thomas Roch, let it be again remarked--this point cannot be too often
insisted upon--incapable though he was of comprehending and performing
the ordinary acts and duties of life, recovered all his powers when
the field of his discoveries was touched upon. He became animated, and
spoke with the assurance of a man who knows whereof he is descanting,
and an authority that carried conviction with it. In the heat of his
eloquence he would describe the marvellous qualities of his fulgurator
and the truly extraordinary effects it caused. As to the nature of the
explosive and of the deflagrator, the elements of which the latter was
composed, their manufacture, and the way in which they were employed,
he preserved complete silence, and all attempts to worm the secret out
of him remained ineffectual. Once or twice, during the height of the
paroxysms to which he was occasionally subject, there had been reason
to believe that his secret would escape him, and every precaution had
been taken to note his slightest utterance. But Thomas Roch had
each time disappointed his watchers. If he no longer preserved the
sentiment of self-preservation, he at least knew how to preserve the
secret of his discovery.
Pavilion No. 17 was situated in the middle of a garden that was
surrounded by hedges, and here Roch was accustomed to take exercise
under the surveillance of his guardian. This guardian lived in the
same pavilion, slept in the same room with him, and kept constant
watch upon him, never leaving him for an hour. He hung upon
the lightest words uttered by the patient in the course of his
hallucinations, which generally occurred in the intermediary state
between sleeping and waking--watched and listened while he dreamed.
This guardian was known as Gaydon. Shortly after the sequestration of
Thomas Roch, having learned that an attendant speaking French fluently
was wanted, he had applied at Healthful House for the place, and had
been engaged to look after the new inmate.
In reality the alleged Gaydon was a French engineer named Simon Hart,
who for several years past had been connected with a manufactory of
chemical products in New Jersey. Simon Hart was forty years of age.
His high forehead was furrowed with the wrinkle that denoted the
thinker, and his resolute bearing denoted energy combined with
tenacity. Extremely well versed in the various questions relating to
the perfecting of modern armaments, Hart knew everything that had been
invented in the shape of explosives, of which there were over eleven
hundred at that time, and was fully able to appreciate such a man
as Thomas Roch. He firmly believed in the power of the latter's
fulgurator, and had no doubt whatever that the inventor had conceived
an engine that was capable of revolutionizing the condition of both
offensive and defensive warfare on land and sea. He was aware that the
demon of insanity had respected the man of science, and that in Roch's
partially diseased brain the flame of genius still burned brightly.
Then it occurred to him that if, during Roch's crises, his secret was
revealed, this invention of a Frenchman would be seized upon by some
other country to the detriment of France. Impelled by a spirit of
patriotism, he made up his mind to offer himself as Thomas Roch's
guardian, by passing himself off as an American thoroughly conversant
with the French language, in order that if the inventor did at any
time disclose his secret, France alone should benefit thereby. On
pretext of returning to Europe, he resigned his position at the New
Jersey manufactory, and changed his name so that none should know what
had become of him.
Thus it came to pass that Simon Hart, alias Gaydon, had been an
attendant at Healthful House for fifteen months. It required no little
courage on the part of a man of his position and education to perform
the menial and exacting duties of an insane man's attendant; but, as
has been before remarked, he was actuated by a spirit of the purest
and noblest patriotism. The idea of depriving Roch of the legitimate
benefits due to the inventor, if he succeeded in learning his secret,
never for an instant entered his mind.
He had kept the patient under the closest possible observation for
fifteen months yet had not been able to learn anything from him,
or worm out of him a single reply to his questions that was of the
slightest value. But he had become more convinced than ever of the
importance of Thomas Roch's discovery, and was extremely apprehensive
lest the partial madness of the inventor should become general, or
lest he should die during one of his paroxysms and carry his secret
with him to the grave.
This was Simon Hart's position, and this the mission to which he had
wholly devoted himself in the interest of his native country.
However, notwithstanding his deceptions and troubles, Thomas Roch's
physical health, thanks to his vigorous constitution, was not
particularly affected. A man of medium height, with a large head,
high, wide forehead, strongly-cut features, iron-gray hair and
moustache, eyes generally haggard, but which became piercing and
imperious when illuminated by his dominant idea, thin lips closely
compressed, as though to prevent the escape of a word that could
betray his secret--such was the inventor confined in one of
the pavilions of Healthful House, probably unconscious of his
sequestration, and confided to the surveillance of Simon Hart the
engineer, become Gaydon the warder.
CHAPTER II.
COUNT D'ARTIGAS.
Just who was this Count d'Artigas? A Spaniard? So his name would
appear to indicate. Yet on the stern of his schooner, in letters of
gold, was the name -Ebba-, which is of pure Norwegian origin. And had
you asked him the name of the captain of the -Ebba-, he would have
replied, Spade, and would doubtless have added that that of the
boatswain was Effrondat, and that of the ship's cook, Helim--all
singularly dissimilar and indicating very different nationalities.
Could any plausible hypothesis be deducted from the type presented by
Count d'Artigas? Not easily. If the color of his skin, his black hair,
and the easy grace of his attitude denoted a Spanish origin, the
-ensemble- of his person showed none of the racial characteristics
peculiar to the natives of the Iberian peninsula.
He was a man of about forty-five years of age, about the average
height, and robustly constituted. With his calm and haughty demeanor
he resembled an Hindoo lord in whose blood might mingle that of some
superb type of Malay. If he was not naturally of a cold temperament,
he at least, with his imperious gestures and brevity of speech,
endeavored to make it appear that he was. As to the language usually
spoken by him and his crew, it was one of those idioms current in
the islands of the Indian Ocean and the adjacent seas. Yet when his
maritime excursions brought him to the coasts of the old or new world
he spoke English with remarkable facility, and with so slight an
accent as to scarcely betray his foreign origin.
None could have told anything about his past, nor even about his
present life, nor from what source he derived his fortune,--obviously
a large one, inasmuch as he was able to gratify his every whim and
lived in the greatest luxury whenever he visited America,--nor where
he resided when at home, nor where was the port from which his
schooner hailed, and none would have ventured to question him upon any
of these points so little disposed was he to be communicative. He was
not the kind of man to give anything away or compromise himself in the
slightest degree, even when interviewed by American reporters.
All that was known about him was what was published in the papers when
the arrival of the -Ebba- was reported in some port, and particularly
in the ports of the east coast of the United States, where the
schooner was accustomed to put in at regular periods to lay in
provisions and stores for a lengthy voyage. She would take on board
not only flour, biscuits, preserves, fresh and dried meat, live stock,
wines, beers, and spirits, but also clothing, household utensils, and
objects of luxury--all of the finest quality and highest price, and
which were paid for either in dollars, guineas, or other coins of
various countries and denominations.
Consequently, if no one knew anything about the private life of Count
d'Artigas, he was nevertheless very well known in the various ports of
the United States from the Florida peninsula to New England.
It is therefore in no way surprising that the director of Healthful
House should have felt greatly flattered by the Count's visit, and
have received him with every mark of honor and respect.
It was the first time that the schooner -Ebba- had dropped anchor
in the port of New-Berne, and no doubt a mere whim of her owner had
brought him to the mouth of the Neuse. Otherwise why should he have
come to such a place? Certainly not to lay in stores, for Pamlico
Sound offered neither the resources nor facilities to be found in
such ports as Boston, New York, Dover, Savannah, Wilmington in North
Carolina, and Charleston in South Carolina. What could he have
procured with his piastres and bank-notes in the small markets of
New-Berne? This chief town of Craven County contained barely six
thousand inhabitants. Its commerce consisted principally in the
exportation of grain, pigs, furniture, and naval munitions. Besides, a
few weeks previously, the schooner had loaded up for some destination
which, as usual, was unknown.
Had this enigmatical personage then come solely for the purpose of
visiting Healthful House? Very likely. There would have been nothing
surprising in the fact, seeing that the establishment enjoyed a high
and well-merited reputation.
Or perhaps the Count had been inspired by curiosity to meet Thomas
Roch? This curiosity would have been legitimate and natural enough
in view of the universal renown of the French inventor. Fancy--a mad
genius who claimed that his discoveries were destined to revolutionize
the methods of modern military art!
As he had notified the director he would do, the Count d'Artigas
presented himself in the afternoon at the door of Healthful House,
accompanied by Captain Spade, the commander of the -Ebba-.
In conformity with orders given, both were admitted and conducted to
the office of the director. The latter received his distinguished
visitor with -empressement-, placed himself at his disposal, and
intimated his intention of personally conducting him over the
establishment, not being willing to concede to anybody else the honor
of being his -cicerone-. The Count on his part was profuse in the
expression of his thanks for the considerations extended to him.
They went over the common rooms and private habitations of the
establishment, the director prattling unceasingly about the care with
which the patients were tended--much better care, if he was to be
believed, than they could possibly have had in the bosoms of their
families--and priding himself upon the results achieved, and which had
earned for the place its well-merited success.
The Count d'Artigas listened to his ceaseless chatter with apparent
interest, probably in order the better to dissemble the real motive of
his visit. However, after going the rounds for an hour he ventured to
remark:
"Have you not among your patients, sir, one anent whom there was a
great deal of talk some time ago, and whose presence here contributed
in no small measure to attract public attention to Healthful House?"
"You refer to Thomas Roch, I presume, Count?" queried the director.
"Precisely--that Frenchman--that inventor--whose mental condition is
said to be very precarious."
"Very precarious, Count, and happily so, perhaps! In my opinion
humanity has nothing to gain by his discoveries, the application of
which would increase the already too numerous means of destruction."
"You speak wisely, sir, and I entirely agree with you. Real progress
does not lie in that direction, and I regard as inimical to society
all those who seek to follow it. But has this inventor entirely lost
the use of his intellectual faculties?"
"Entirely, no; save as regards the ordinary things of life. In this
respect he no longer possesses either comprehension or responsibility.
His genius as an inventor, however, remains intact; it has survived
his moral degeneracy, and, had his insensate demands been complied
with, I have no doubt he would have produced a new war engine--which
the world can get along very well without."
"Very well without, as you say, sir," re-echoed the Count d'Artigas,
and Captain Spade nodded approval.
"But you will be able to judge for yourself, Count, for here is the
pavilion occupied by Thomas Roch. If his confinement is well justified
from the point of view of public security he is none the less treated
with all the consideration due to him and the attention which his
condition necessitates. Besides, Healthful House is beyond the reach
of indiscreet persons who might...."
The director completed the phrase with a significant motion of
his head--which brought an imperceptible smile to the lips of the
stranger.
"But," asked the Count, "is Thomas Roch never left alone?"
"Never, Count, never. He has a permanent attendant in whom we have
implicit confidence, who speaks his language and keeps the closest
possible watch upon him. If in some way or other some indication
relative to his discovery were to escape him, it would be immediately
noted down and its value would be passed upon by those competent to
judge."
Here the Count d'Artigas stole a rapid and meaning glance at Captain
Spade, who responded with a gesture which said plainly enough: "I
understand." And had any one observed the captain during the visit,
they could not have failed to remark that he examined with the
greatest minuteness that portion of the park surrounding Pavilion No.
17, and the different paths leading to the latter--probably in view of
some prearranged scheme.
The garden of the pavilion was near the high wall surrounding the
property, from the foot of which on the other side the hill sloped
gently to the right bank of the Neuse.
The pavilion itself was a one-story building surmounted by a terrace
in the Italian style. It contained two rooms and an ante-room with
strongly-barred windows. On each side and in rear of the habitation
were clusters of fine trees, which were then in full leaf. In front
was a cool, green velvety lawn, ornamented with shrubs and brilliantly
tinted flowers. The whole garden extended over about half an acre, and
was reserved exclusively for the use of Thomas Roch, who was free to
wander about it at pleasure under the surveillance of his guardian.
When the Count d'Artigas, Captain Spade, and the director entered the
garden, the first person they saw was the warder Gaydon, standing
at the door of the pavilion. Unnoticed by the director the Count
d'Artigas eyed the attendant with singular persistence.
It was not the first time that strangers had come to see the occupant
of Pavilion No. 17, for the French inventor was justly regarded as the
most interesting inmate of Healthful House. Nevertheless, Gaydon's
attention was attracted by the originality of the type presented by
the two visitors, of whose nationality he was ignorant. If the name
of the Count d'Artigas was not unfamiliar to him, he had never had
occasion to meet that wealthy gentleman during the latter's sojourn in
the eastern ports. He therefore had no idea as to who the Count was.
Neither was he aware that the schooner -Ebba- was then anchored at the
entrance to the Neuse, at the foot of the hill upon which Healthful
House was situated.
"Gaydon," demanded the director, "where is Thomas Roch?"
"Yonder," replied the warder, pointing to a man who was walking
meditatively under the trees in rear of the pavilion.
"The Count d'Artigas has been authorized to visit Healthful House,"
the director explained; "and does not wish to go away without having
seen Thomas Roch, who was lately the subject of a good deal too much
discussion."
"And who would be talked about a great deal more," added the Count,
"had the Federal Government not taken the precaution to confine him in
this establishment."
"A necessary precaution, Count."
"Necessary, as you observe, Mr. Director. It is better for the peace
of the world that his secret should die with him."
After having glanced at the Count d'Artigas, Gaydon had not uttered a
word; but preceding the two strangers he walked towards the clump of
trees where the inventor was pacing back and forth.
Thomas Roch paid no attention to them. He appeared to be oblivious of
their presence.
Meanwhile, Captain Spade, while being careful not to excite suspicion,
had been minutely examining the immediate surroundings of the pavilion
and the end of the park in which it was situated. From the top of the
sloping alleys he could easily distinguish the peak of a mast which
showed above the wall of the park. He recognized the peak at a glance
as being that of the -Ebba-, and knew therefore that the wall at this
part skirted the right bank of the Neuse.
The Count d'Artigas' whole attention was concentrated upon the French
inventor. The latter's health appeared to have suffered in no way
from his eighteen months' confinement; but his queer attitude, his
incoherent gestures, his haggard eye, and his indifference to what was
passing around him testified only too plainly to the degeneration of
his mental faculties.
At length Thomas Roch dropped into a seat and with the end of a switch
traced in the sand of the alley the outline of a fortification. Then
kneeling down he made a number of little mounds that were evidently
intended to represent bastions. He next plucked some leaves from a
neighboring tree and stuck them in the mounds like so many tiny
flags. All this was done with the utmost seriousness and without any
attention whatever being paid to the onlookers.
It was the amusement of a child, but a child would have lacked this
characteristic gravity.
"Is he then absolutely mad?" demanded the Count d'Artigas, who
in spite of his habitual impassibility appeared to be somewhat
disappointed.
"I warned you, Count, that nothing could be obtained from him."
"Couldn't he at least pay some attention to us?"
"It would perhaps be difficult to induce him to do so."
Then turning to the attendant:
"Speak to him, Gaydon. Perhaps he will answer you."
"Oh! he'll answer me right enough, sir, never fear," replied Gaydon.
He went up to the inventor and touching him on the shoulder, said
gently: "Thomas Roch!"
The latter raised his head, and of the persons present he doubtless
saw but his keeper, though Captain Spade had come up and all formed a
circle about him.
"Thomas Roch," continued Gaydon, speaking in English, "here are some
visitors to see you. They are interested in your health--in your
work."
The last word alone seemed to rouse him from his indifference.
"My work?" he replied, also in English, which he spoke like a native.
Then taking a pebble between his index finger and bent thumb, as a
boy plays at marbles, he projected it against one of the little
sand-heaps. It scattered, and he jumped for joy.
"Blown to pieces! The bastion is blown to pieces! My explosive has
destroyed everything at one blow!" he shouted, the light of triumph
flashing in his eyes.
"You see," said the director, addressing the Count d'Artigas. "The
idea of his invention never leaves him."
"And it will die with him," affirmed the attendant.
"Couldn't you, Gaydon, get him to talk about his fulgurator?" asked
his chief.
"I will try, if you order me to do so, sir."
"Well, I do order you, for I think it might interest the Count
d'Artigas."
"Certainly," assented the Count, whose physiognomy betrayed no sign of
the sentiments which were agitating him.
"I ought to warn you that I risk bringing on another fit," observed
Gaydon.
"You can drop the conversation when you consider it prudent. Tell
Thomas Roch that a foreigner wishes to negotiate with him for the
purchase of his fulgurator."
"But are you not afraid he may give his secret away?" questioned the
Count.
He spoke with such vivacity that Gaydon could not restrain a glance of
distrust, which, however, did not appear to disturb the equanimity of
that impenetrable nobleman.
"No fear of that," said the warder. "No promise would induce him to
divulge his secret. Until the millions he demands are counted into his
hand he will remain as mute as a stone."
"I don't happen to be carrying those millions about me," remarked the
Count quietly.
Gaydon again touched Roch on the shoulder and repeated:
"Thomas Roch, here are some foreigners who are anxious to acquire your
invention."
The madman started.
"My invention?" he cried. "My deflagrator?"
And his growing animation plainly indicated the imminence of the fit
that Gaydon had been apprehensive about, and which questions of this
character invariably brought on.
"How much will you give me for it--how much?" continued Roch. "How
much--how much?"
"Ten million dollars," replied Gaydon.
"Ten millions! Ten millions! A fulgurator ten million times more
powerful than anything hitherto invented! Ten millions for an
autopropulsive projectile which, when it explodes, destroys everything
in sight within a radius of over twelve thousand square yards! Ten
millions for the only deflagrator that can provoke its explosion! Why,
all the wealth of the world wouldn't suffice to purchase the secret
of my engine, and rather than sell it at such a price I would cut
my tongue in half with my teeth. Ten millions, when it is worth a
billion--a billion--a billion!"
It was clear that Roch had lost all notion of things, and had Gaydon
offered him ten billions the madman would have replied in exactly the
same manner.
The Count d'Artigas and Captain Spade had not taken their eyes off
him. The Count was impassible as usual, though his brow had darkened,
but the captain shook his head in a manner that implied plainly:
"Decidedly there is nothing to hope from this poor devil!"
After his outburst Roch fled across the garden crying hoarsely:
"Billions! Billions!"
Gaydon turned to the director and remarked:
"I told you how it would be."
Then he rushed after his patient, caught him by the arm, and led him,
without any attempt at resistance, into the pavilion and closed the
door.
The Count d'Artigas remained alone with the director, Captain Spade
having strolled off again in the direction of the wall at the bottom
of the park.
"You see I was not guilty of exaggeration, Count," said the director.
"It is obvious to every one that Thomas Roch is becoming daily worse.
In my opinion his case is a hopeless one. If all the money he asks for
were offered to him, nothing could be got from him."
"Very likely," replied the Count, "still, if his pecuniary demands are
supremely absurd, he has none the less invented an engine the power of
which is infinite, one might say."
"That is the opinion expressed by competent persons, Count. But what
he has discovered will ere long be lost with himself in one of these
fits which are becoming more frequent and intense. Very soon even the
motive of interest, the only sentiment that appears to have survived
in his mind, will become extinct."
"Mayhap the sentiment of hatred will remain, though," muttered the
Count, as Spade joined them at the garden gate.
CHAPTER III.
KIDNAPPED.
Half an hour later the Count d'Artigas and Captain Spade were
following the beech-lined road that separated the Healthful House
estate from the right bank of the Neuse. Both had taken leave of the
director, the latter declaring himself greatly honored by their visit,
and the former thanking him warmly for his courteous reception. A
hundred-dollar bill left as a tip for the staff of the establishment
had certainly not belied the Count's reputation for generosity. He
was--there could be no doubt about it--a foreigner of the highest
distinction, if distinction be measured by generosity.
Issuing by the gate at the main entrance to Healthful House, they had
skirted the wall that surrounded the property, and which was high
enough to preclude the possibility of climbing it. Not a word passed
between them for some time; the Count was deep in thought and Captain
Spade was not in the habit of addressing him without being first
spoken to.
At last when they stood beneath the rear wall behind which, though it
was not visible, the Count knew Pavilion No. 17 was situated, he said:
"You managed, I presume, to thoroughly explore the place, and are
acquainted with every detail of it?"
"Certainly, -Count-" replied Captain Spade, emphasizing the title.
"You are perfectly sure about it?"
"Perfectly. I could go through the park with my eyes shut. If you
still persist in carrying out your scheme the pavilion can be easily
reached."
"I do persist, Spade."
"Notwithstanding Thomas Roch's mental condition?"
"Notwithstanding his condition; and if we succeed in carrying him
off----"
"That is my affair. When night comes on I undertake to enter the park
of Healthful House, and then the pavilion garden without being seen by
anybody."
"By the entrance gate?"
"No, on this side."
"Yes, but on this side there is the wall, and if you succeed in
climbing it, how are you going to get over it again with Thomas Roch?
What if the madman cries out--what if he should resist--what if his
keeper gives the alarm?"
"Don't worry yourself in the least about that. We have only got to go
in and come out by this door."
Captain Spade pointed to a narrow door let into the wall a few
paces distant, and which was doubtless used by the staff of the
establishment when they had occasion to go out by the river.
"That is the way I propose to go in. It's much easier than scaling the
wall with a ladder."
"But the door is closed."
"It will open."
"Has it no bolts?"
"Yes, but I shot them back while we were strolling about, and the
director didn't notice what I had done."
"How are you going to open it?" queried the Count, going to the door.
"Here is the key," replied Spade, producing it.
He had withdrawn it from the lock, where it happened to be, when he
had unbolted the door.
"Capital!" exclaimed the Count. "It couldn't be better. The business
will be easier than I expected. Let us get back to the schooner. At
eight o'clock one of the boats will put you ashore with five men."
"Yes, five men will do," said Captain Spade. "There will be enough of
them to effect our object even if the keeper is aroused and it becomes
necessary to put him out of the way."
"Put him out of the way--well, if it becomes absolutely necessary of
course you must, but it would be better to seize him too and bring him
aboard the -Ebba- Who knows but what he has already learned a part of
Roch's secret?"
"True."
"Besides, Thomas Roch is used to him, and I don't propose to make him
change his habitudes in any way."
This observation was accompanied by such a significant smile that
Captain Spade could entertain no doubt as to the rôle reserved for the
warder of Healthful House.
The plan to kidnap them both was thus settled, and appeared to have
every chance of being successful; unless during the couple of hours of
daylight that yet remained it was noticed that the key of the door had
been stolen and the bolts drawn back, Captain Spade and his men could
at least count upon being able to enter the park, and the rest, the
captain affirmed, would be easy enough.
Thomas Roch was the only patient in the establishment isolated and
kept under special surveillance. All the other invalids lived in the
main building, or occupied pavilions in the front of the park. The
plan was to try and seize Roch and Gaydon separately and bind and gag
them before they could cry out.
The Count d'Artigas and his companion wended their way to a creek
where one of the -Ebba's- boats awaited them. The schooner was
anchored two cable lengths from the shore, her sails neatly rolled
upon her yards, which were squared as neatly as those of a pleasure
yacht or of a man-of-war. At the peak of the mainmast a narrow red
pennant was gently swayed by the wind, which came in fitful puffs from
the east.
The Count and the captain jumped into the boat and a few strokes of
the four oars brought them alongside of the schooner. They climbed
on deck and going forward to the jib-boom, leaned over the starboard
bulwark and gazed at an object that floated on the water a few strokes
ahead of the vessel. It was a small buoy that was rocked by the ripple
of the ebbing tide.
Twilight gradually set in, and the outline of New-Berne on the left
bank of the sinuous Neuse became more and more indistinct until it
disappeared in the deepening shades of night. A mist set in from the
sea, but though it obscured the moon it brought no sign of rain. The
lights gleamed out one by one in the houses of the town. The fishing
smacks came slowly up the river to their anchorage, impelled by the
oars of their crews which struck the water with sharp, rhythmical
strokes, and with their sails distended on the chance of catching an
occasional puff of the dropping wind to help them along. A couple of
steamers passed, sending up volumes of black smoke and myriads of
sparks from their double stacks, and lashing the water into foam with
their powerful paddles.
At eight o'clock the Count d'Artigas appeared on the schooner's deck
accompanied by a man about fifty years of age, to whom he remarked:
"It is time to go, Serko."
"Very well, I will tell Spade," replied Serko.
At that moment the captain joined them.
"You had better get ready to go," said the Count.
"All is ready."
"Be careful to prevent any alarm being given, and arrange matters so
that no one will for a minute suspect that Thomas Roch and his keeper
have been brought on board the -Ebba-."
"They wouldn't find them if they came to look for them," observed
Serko, shrugging his shoulders and laughing heartily as though he had
perpetrated a huge joke.
"Nevertheless, it is better not to arouse their suspicion," said
d'Artigas.
The boat was lowered, and Captain Spade and five sailors took their
places in it. Four of the latter got out the oars. The boatswain,
Effrondat, who was to remain in charge of the boat, went to the stern
beside Captain Spade and took the tiller.
"Good luck, Spade," said Serko with a smile, "and don't make more
noise about it than if you were a gallant carrying off his lady-love."
"I won't--unless that Gaydon chap--"
"We must have both Roch and Gaydon," insisted the Count d'Artigas.
"That is understood," replied Spade.
The boat pushed off, and the sailors on the deck of the schooner
watched it till it was lost to sight in the darkness.
Pending its return, no preparations for the -Ebba's- departure were
made. Perhaps there was no intention of quitting the port after the
men had been kidnapped. Besides, how could the vessel have reached the
open sea? Not a breath of air was now stirring, and in half an hour
the tide would be setting in again, and rising strongly and rapidly
for several miles above New-Berne.
Anchored, as has already been said, a couple of cable-lengths from the
shore, the -Ebba- might have been brought much nearer to it, for the
water was deep enough, and this would have facilitated the task of the
kidnappers when they returned from their expedition. If, however, the
Count d'Artigas preferred to let the vessel stay where she was, he
probably had his reasons.
Not a soul was in sight on the bank, and the road, with its borders
of beech trees that skirted the wall of Healthful House estate, was
equally deserted. The boat was made fast to the shore. Then Captain
Spade and his four sailors landed, leaving the boatswain in charge,
and disappeared amid the trees.
When they reached the wall Captain Spade stopped and the sailors drew
up on each side of the doorway. The captain had only to turn the key
in the lock and push the door, unless one of the servants, noticing
that the door was not secured as usual, had bolted it. In this event
their task would be an extremely difficult one, even if they succeeded
in scaling the high wall.
The captain put his ear to the key-hole and listened.
Not a sound was to be heard in the park. Not even a leaf was rustling
in the branches of the beeches under which they were standing. The
surrounding country was wrapt in the profoundest silence.
Captain Spade drew the key from his pocket, inserted it in the lock
and turned it noiselessly. Then he cautiously pushed the door, which
opened inward.
Things were, then, just as he had left them, and no one had noticed
the theft of the key.
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