his handiwork,--and also very positive that the prisoner of Back Cup
will never be able to disclose the secret.
It will easily be realized how powerful was the offensive weapon
Ker Karraje now possessed. During the night the tug would rush at a
merchant vessel, and bore a hole in her with its powerful ram. At
the same time the schooner which could not possibly have excited any
suspicion, would run alongside and her horde of cutthroats would pour
on to the doomed vessel's deck and massacre the helpless crew, after
which they would hurriedly transfer that part of the cargo that was
worth taking to the -Ebba-. Thus it happened that ship after ship
was added to the long list of those that never reached port and were
classed as having gone down with all on board.
For a year after the odious comedy in the bay of Charleston Ker
Karraje operated in the Atlantic, and his wealth increased to enormous
proportions. The merchandise for which he had no use was disposed of
in distant markets in exchange for gold and silver. But what was sadly
needed was a place where the profits could be safely hidden pending
the time when they were to be finally divided.
Chance came to their aid. While exploring the bottom of the sea in
the neighborhood of the Bermudas, Engineer Serko and Driver Gibson
discovered at the base of Back Cup island the tunnel which led to the
interior of the mountain. Would it have been possible for Ker Karraje
to have found a more admirable refuge than this, absolutely safe as it
was from any possible chance of discovery? Thus it came to pass that
one of the islands of the Archipelago of Bermuda, erstwhile the haunt
of buccaneers, became the lair of another gang a good deal more to be
dreaded.
This retreat having been definitely adopted, Count d'Artigas and his
companions set about getting their place in order. Engineer Serko
installed an electric power house, without having recourse to machines
whose construction abroad might have aroused suspicion, simply
employing piles that could be easily mounted and required but metal
plates and chemical substances that the -Ebba- procured during her
visits to the American coast.
What happened on the night of the 19th inst. can easily be divined.
If the three-masted merchantman which lay becalmed was not visible at
break of day it was because she had been scuttled by the tug, boarded
by the cut-throat band on the -Ebba-, and sunk with all on board after
being pillaged. The bales and things that I had seen on the schooner
were a part of her cargo, and all unknown to me the gallant ship was
lying at the bottom of the broad Atlantic!
How will this adventure end? Shall I ever be able to escape from
Back Cup, denounce the false Count d'Artigas and rid the seas of Ker
Karraje's pirates?
And if Ker Karraje is terrible as it is, how much more so will he
become if he ever obtains possession of Roch's fulgurator! His power
will be increased a hundred-fold! If he were able to employ this new
engine of destruction no merchantman could resist him, no warship
escape total destruction.
I remain for some time absorbed and oppressed by the reflections with
which the revelation of Ker Karraje's name inspires me. All that I
have ever heard about this famous pirate recurs to me--his existence
when he skimmed the Southern Seas, the useless expeditions organized
by the maritime powers to hunt him down. The unaccountable loss of so
many vessels in the Atlantic during the past few years is attributable
to him. He had merely changed the scene of his exploits. It was
supposed that he had been got rid of, whereas he is continuing his
piratical practices in the most frequented ocean on the globe, by
means of the tug which is believed to be lying at the bottom of
Charleston Bay.
"Now," I say to myself, "I know his real name and that of his
lair--Ker Karraje and Back Cup;" and I surmise that if Engineer Serko
has let me into the secret he must have been authorized to do so. Am I
not meant to understand from this that I must give up all hope of ever
recovering my liberty?
Engineer Serko had manifestly remarked the impression created upon me
by this revelation. I remember that on leaving me he went towards Ker
Karraje's habitation, no doubt with the intention of apprising him of
what had passed.
After a rather long walk around the lagoon I am about to return to my
cell, when I hear footsteps behind me. I turn and find myself face to
face with the Count d'Artigas, who is accompanied by Captain Spade.
He glances at me sharply, and in a burst of irritation that I cannot
suppress, I exclaim:
"You are keeping me here, sir, against all right. If it was to wait
upon Thomas Roch that you carried me off from Healthful House, I
refuse to attend to him, and insist upon being sent back."
The pirate chief makes a gesture, but does not reply.
Then my temper gets the better of me altogether.
"Answer me, Count d'Artigas--or rather, for I know who you are--answer
me, Ker Karraje!" I shout.
"The Count d'Artigas is Ker Karraje," he coolly replies, "just as
Warder Gaydon is Engineer Simon Hart; and Ker Karraje will never
restore to liberty Engineer Simon Hart, who knows his secrets."
CHAPTER XI.
FIVE WEEKS IN BACK CUP.
The situation is plain. Ker Karraje knows who I am. He knew who I was
when he kidnapped Thomas Roch and his attendant.
How did this man manage to find out what I was able to keep from the
staff of Healthful House? How comes it that he knew that a French
engineer was performing the duties of attendant to Thomas Roch? I do
not know how he discovered it, but the fact remains that he did.
Evidently he had means of information which must have been costly, but
from which he has derived considerable profit. Besides, men of his
kidney do not count the cost when they wish to attain an end they have
in view.
Henceforward Ker Karraje, or rather Engineer Serko, will replace me
as attendant upon Thomas Roch. Will he succeed better than I did? God
grant that he may not, that the civilized world may be spared such a
misfortune!
I did not reply to Ker Karraje's Parthian shot, for I was stricken
dumb. I did not, however, collapse, as the alleged Count d'Artigas
perhaps expected I would.
No! I looked him straight in the eyes, which glittered angrily, and
crossed my arms defiantly, as he had done. And yet he held my life in
his hands! At a sign a bullet would have laid me dead at his feet.
Then my body, cast into the lagoon, would have been borne out to sea
through the tunnel and there would have been an end of me.
After this scene I am left at liberty, just as before. No measure is
taken against me, I can walk among the pillars to the very end of the
cavern, which--it is only too clear--possesses no other issue except
the tunnel.
When I return to my cell, at the extremity of the Beehive, a prey to a
thousand thoughts suggested by my situation, I say to myself:
"If Ker Karraje knows I am Simon Hart, the engineer, he must at any
rate never know that I am aware of the position of Back Cup Island."
As to the plan of confiding Thomas Roch to my care, I do not think
he ever seriously entertained it, seeing that my identity had been
revealed to him. I regret this, inasmuch as the inventor will
indubitably be the object of pressing solicitations, and as Engineer
Serko will employ every means in his power to obtain the composition
of the explosive and deflagrator, of which he will make such
detestable use during future piratical exploits. Yes, it would have
been far better if I could have remained Thomas Roch's keeper here, as
in Healthful House.
For fifteen days I see nothing of my late charge. No one, I repeat,
has placed any obstacles in the way of my daily peregrinations. I have
no need to occupy myself about the material part of my existence. My
meals are brought to me regularly, direct from the kitchen of the
Count d'Artigas--I cannot accustom myself to calling him by any other
name. The food leaves nothing to be desired, thanks to the provisions
that the -Ebba- brings on her return from each voyage.
It is very fortunate, too, that I have been supplied with all the
writing materials I require, for during my long hours of idleness I
have been able to jot down in my notebook the slightest incidents that
have occurred since I was abducted from Healthful House, and to keep
a diary day by day. As long as I am permitted to use a pen I shall
continue my notes. Mayhap some day, they will help to clear up the
mysteries of Back Cup.
-From July 5 to July 25.---A fortnight has passed, and all my attempts
to get near Thomas Roch have been frustrated. Orders have evidently
been given to keep him away from my influence, inefficacious though
the latter has hitherto been. My only hope is that the Count
d'Artigas, Engineer Serko, and Captain Spade will waste their time
trying to get at the inventor's secrets.
Three or four times to my knowledge, at least, Thomas Roch and
Engineer Serko have walked together around the lagoon. As far as I
have been able to judge, the former listened with some attention to
what the other was saying to him. Serko has conducted him over the
whole cavern, shown him the electric power house and the mechanism of
the tug. Thomas Roch's mental condition has visibly improved since his
departure from Healthful House.
Thomas Roch lives in a private room in Ker Karraje's "mansion." I
have no doubt that he is daily sounded in regard to his discoveries,
especially by Engineer Serko. Will he be able to resist the temptation
if they offer him the exorbitant price that he demands? Has he any
idea of the value of money? These wretches may dazzle him with the
gold that they have accumulated by years of rapine. In the present
state of his mind may he not be induced to disclose the composition
of his fulgurator? They would then only have to fetch the necessary
substances and Thomas Roch would have plenty of time in Back Cup to
devote to his chemical combinations. As to the war-engines themselves
nothing would be easier than to have them made in sections in
different parts of the American continent. My hair stands on end when
I think what they could and would do with them if once they gained
possession of them.
These intolerable apprehensions no longer leave me a minute's peace;
they are wearing me out and my health is suffering in consequence.
Although the air in the interior of Back Cup is pure, I become subject
to attacks of suffocation, and I feel as though my prison walls were
falling upon me and crushing me under their weight. I am, besides,
oppressed by the feeling that I am cut off from the world, as
effectually as though I were no longer upon our planet,--for I know
nothing of what is going on outside.
Ah! if it were only possible to escape through that submarine tunnel,
or through the hole in the dome and slide to the base of the mountain!
On the morning of the 25th I at last encounter Thomas Roch. He is
alone on the other side of the lagoon, and I wonder, inasmuch as
I have not seen them since the previous day, whether Ker Karraje,
Engineer Serko, and Captain Spade have not gone off on some
expedition.
I walk round towards Thomas Roch, and before he can see me I examine
him attentively.
His serious, thoughtful physiognomy is no longer that of a madman. He
walks slowly, with his eyes bent on the ground, and under his arm a
drawing-board upon which is stretched a sheet of paper covered with
designs.
Suddenly he raises his head, advances a step and recognizes me.
"Ah! Gaydon, it is you, is it?" he cries, "I have then escaped from
you! I am free!"
He can, indeed, regard himself as being free--a good deal more at
liberty in Back Cup than he was in Healthful House. But maybe my
presence evokes unpleasant memories, and will bring on another fit,
for he continues with extraordinary animation:
"Yes, I know you, Gaydon.--Do not approach me! Stand off! stand off!
You would like to get me back in your clutches, incarcerate me again
in your dungeon! Never! I have friends here who will protect me. They
are powerful, they are rich. The Count d'Artigas is my backer and
Engineer Serko is my partner. We are going to exploit my invention! We
are going to make my fulgurator! Hence! Get you gone!"
Thomas Roch is in a perfect fury. He raises his voice, agitates his
arms, and finally pulls from his pockets many rolls of dollar bills
and banknotes, and handfuls of English, French, American and German
gold coins, which slip through his fingers and roll about the cavern.
How could he get all this money except from Ker Karraje, and as the
price of his secret? The noise he makes attracts a number of men to
the scene. They watch us for a moment, then seize Thomas Roch and drag
him away. As soon as I am out of his sight he ceases-to struggle and
becomes calm again.
-July 27.---Two hours after meeting with Thomas Roch, I went down to
the lagoon and walked out to the edge of the stone jetty.
The tug is not moored in its accustomed place, nor can I see it
anywhere about the lake. Ker Karraje and Engineer Serko had not gone
yesterday, as I supposed, for I saw them in the evening.
To-day, however, I have reason to believe that they really have gone
away in the tug with Captain Spade and the crew of the -Ebba-, and
that the latter must be sailing away.
Have they set out on a piracy expedition? Very likely. It is equally
likely that Ker Karraje, become once more the Count d'Artigas,
travelling for pleasure on board his yacht, intends to put into some
port on the American coast to procure the substances necessary to the
preparation of Roch's fulgurator.
Ah! if it had only been possible for me to hide in the tug, to slip
into the -Ebba's- hold, and stow myself away there until the schooner
arrived in port! Then perchance I might have escaped and delivered the
world from this band of pirates.
It will be seen how tenaciously I cling to the thought of escape--of
fleeing--fleeing at any cost from this lair. But flight is impossible,
except through the tunnel, by means of a submarine boat. Is it not
folly to think of such a thing? Sheer folly, and yet what other way is
there of getting out of Back Cup?
While I give myself up to these reflections the water of the lagoon
opens a few yards from me and the tug appears. The lid is raised and
Gibson, the engineer, and the men issue on to the platform. Other men
come up and catch the line that is thrown to them. They haul upon it,
and the tug is soon moored in its accustomed place.
This time, therefore, at any rate, the schooner is not being towed,
and the tug merely went out to put Ker Karraje and his companions
aboard the -Ebba-.
This only confirms my impression that the sole object of their trip is
to reach an American port where the Count d'Artigas can procure the
materials for making the explosive, and order the machines in some
foundry. On the day fixed for their return the tug will go out through
the tunnel again to meet the schooner and Ker Karraje will return to
Back Cup.
Decidedly, this evildoer is carrying out his designs and has succeeded
sooner than I thought would be possible.
-August 3.---An incident occurred to-day of which the lagoon was the
theatre--a very curious incident that must be exceedingly rare.
Towards three o'clock in the afternoon there was a prodigious bubbling
in the water, which ceased for a minute or two and then recommenced in
the centre of the lagoon.
About fifteen pirates, whose attention had been attracted by this
unaccountable phenomenon, hurried down to the bank manifesting signs
of astonishment not unmingled with fear--at least I thought so.
The agitation of the water was not caused by the tug, as the latter
was lying alongside the jetty, and the idea that some other submarine
boat had found its way through the tunnel was highly improbable.
Almost at the same instant cries were heard on the opposite bank. The
newcomers shouted something in a hoarse voice to the men on the side
where I was standing, and these immediately rushed off towards the
Beehive.
I conjectured that they had caught sight of some sea-monster that had
found its way in, and was floundering in the lagoon, and that they had
rushed off to fetch arms and harpoons to try and capture it.
I was right, for they speedily returned with the latter weapons and
rifles loaded with explosive bullets.
The monster in question was a whale, of the species that is common
enough in Bermudan waters, which after swimming through the tunnel was
plunging about in the narrow limits of the lake. As it was constrained
to take refuge in Back Cup I concluded that it must have been hard
pressed by whalers.
Some minutes elapsed before the monster rose to the surface. Then the
green shiny mass appeared spouting furiously and darting to and fro as
though fighting with some formidable enemy.
"If it was driven in here by whalers," I said to myself, "there must
be a vessel in proximity to Back Cup--peradventure within a stone's
throw of it. Her boats must have entered the western passes to the
very foot of the mountain. And to think I am unable to communicate
with them! But even if I could, I fail to see how I could go to them
through these massive walls."
I soon found, however, that it was not fishers, but sharks that had
driven the whale through the tunnel, and which infest these waters in
great numbers. I could see them plainly as they darted about, turning
upon their backs and displaying their enormous mouths which were
bristling with their cruel teeth. There were five or six of the
monsters, and they attacked the whale with great viciousness. The
latter's only means of defence was its tail, with which it lashed at
them with terrific force and rapidity. But the whale had received
several wounds and the water was tinged with its life-blood; for
plunge and lash as it would, it could not escape the bites of its
enemies.
However, the voracious sharks were not permitted to vanquish their
prey, for man, far more powerful with his instruments of death, was
about to take a hand and snatch it from them. Gathered around the
lagoon were the companions of Ker Karraje, every whit as ferocious as
the sharks themselves, and well deserving the same name, for what else
are they?
Standing amid a group, at the extremity of the jetty, and armed with
a harpoon, was the big Malay who had prevented me from entering Ker
Karraje's house. When the whale got within shot, he hurled the harpoon
with great force and skill, and it sank into the leviathan's flesh
just under the left fin. The whale plunged immediately, followed by
the relentless sharks. The rope attached to the weapon ran out for
about sixty yards, and then slackened. The men at once began to haul
on it, and the monster rose to the surface again near the end of the
tunnel, struggling desperately in its death agony, and spurting great
columns of water tinged with blood. One blow of its tail struck a
shark, and hurled it clean out of water against the rocky side, where
it dropped in again, badly, if not fatally injured.
The harpoon was torn from the flesh by the jerk, and the whale went
under. It came up again for the last time, and lashed the water so
that it washed up from the tunnel end, disclosing the top of the
orifice.
Then the sharks again rushed on their prey, but were scared off by a
hail of the explosive bullets. Two men then jumped into a boat and
attached a line to the dead monster. The latter was hauled into the
jetty, and the Malays started to cut it up with a dexterity that
showed they were no novices at the work.
No more sharks were to be seen, but I concluded that it would be as
well to refrain from taking a bath in the lagoon for some days to
come.
I now know exactly where the entrance to the tunnel is situated. The
orifice on this side is only ten feet below the edge of the western
bank. But of what use is this knowledge to me?
-August 7-.--Twelve days have elapsed since the Count d'Artigas,
Engineer Serko, and Captain Spade put to sea. There is nothing to
indicate that their return is expected, though the tug is always kept
in readiness for immediate departure by Gibson, the engine-driver. If
the -Ebba- is not afraid to enter the ports of the United States by
day, I rather fancy she prefers to enter the rocky channel of Back
Cup at nightfall. I also fancy, somehow, that Ker Karraje and his
companions will return to-night.
-August 10-.--At ten o'clock last night, as I anticipated, the tug
went under and out, just in time to meet the -Ebba- and tow her
through the channel to her creek, after which she returned with Ker
Karraje and the others.
When I look out this morning, I see Thomas Roch and Engineer Serko
walking down to the lagoon, and talking. What they are talking about I
can easily guess. I go forward and take a good look at my ex-patient.
He is asking questions of Engineer Serko With great animation. His
eyes gleam, his face is flushed, and he is all eagerness to reach the
jetty. Engineer Serko can hardly keep up with him.
The crew of the tug are unloading her, and they have just brought
ashore ten medium-sized boxes. These boxes bear a peculiar red mark,
which Thomas Roch examines closely.
Engineer Serko orders the men to transport them to the storehouses on
the left bank, and the boxes are forthwith loaded on a boat and rowed
over.
In my opinion, these boxes contain the substances by the combination
or mixture of which, the fulgurator and deflagrator are to be made.
The engines, doubtless, are being made in an American foundry, and
when they are ready, the schooner will fetch them and bring them to
Back Cup.
For once in a while, anyhow, the -Ebba- has not returned with any
stolen merchandise. She went out and has returned with a clear bill.
But with what terrible power Ker Karraje will be armed for both
offensive and defensive operations at sea! If Thomas Roch is to be
credited, this fulgurator could shatter the terrestrial spheroid at
one blow. And who knows but what one day, he will try the experiment?
CHAPTER XII.
ENGINEER SERKO'S ADVICE.
Thomas Roch has started work and spends hours and hours in a wooden
shed on the left bank of the lagoon that has been set apart as his
laboratory and workshop. No one enters it except himself. Does he
insist upon preparing the explosive in secret and does he intend to
keep the formula thereof to himself? I should not wonder.
The manner of employing Roch's fulgurator is, I believe, very simple
indeed. The projectile in which it is used requires neither gun nor
mortar to launch it, nor pneumatic tube like the Zalinski shell. It is
autopropulsive, it projects itself, and no ship within a certain zone
when the engine explodes could escape utter destruction. With such a
weapon as this at his command Ker Karraje would be invincible.
-From August 11 to August 17-.--During the past week Thomas Roch has
been working without intermission. Every morning the inventor goes to
his laboratory and does not issue therefrom till night. I have made no
attempt to stop him or speak to him, knowing that it would be useless
to do so.
Although he is still indifferent to everything that does not touch
upon his work he appears to be perfectly self-possessed. Why should he
not have recovered his reason? Has he not obtained what he has so long
sought for? Is he not at last able to carry out the plans he formed
years and years ago?
-August 18-.--At one o'clock this morning I was roused by several
detonations.
"Has Back Cup been attacked?" was my first thought. "Has the schooner
excited suspicion, and been chased to the entrance to the passes? Is
the island being bombarded with a view to its destruction? Has justice
at last overtaken these evil-doers ere Thomas Roch has been able
to complete the manufacture of his explosive, and before the
autopropulsive engine could be fetched from the continent?"
The detonations, which are very violent, continue, succeeding each
other at regular intervals, and it occurs to me that if the schooner
has been destroyed, all communication with the bases of supply being
impossible, Back Cup cannot be provisioned.
It is true the tug would be able to land the Count d'Artigas somewhere
on the American coast where, money being no object, he could easily
buy or order another vessel. But no matter. If Back Cup is only
destroyed before Ker Karraje has Roch's fulgurator at his disposal I
shall render thanks to heaven.
A few hours later, at the usual time, I quit my cell. All is quiet at
the Beehive. The men are going about their business as usual. The tug
is moored near the jetty. Thomas Roch is going to his laboratory, and
Ker Karraje and Engineer Serko are tranquilly pacing backwards and
forwards by the lake and chatting. The island therefore could not have
been attacked during the night. Yet I was awakened by the report of
cannon, this I will swear.
At this moment Ker Karraje goes off towards his abode and Engineer
Serko, smilingly ironical, as usual, advances to meet me.
"Well, Mr. Simon Hart," he says, "are you getting accustomed to
your tranquil existence? Do you appreciate at their just merit the
advantages of this enchanted grotto? Have you given up all hope of
recovering your liberty some day or other?"
What is the use of waxing wroth with this jester? I reply calmly:
"No, sir. I have not given up hope, and I still expect that I shall be
released."
"What! Mr. Hart, separate ourselves from a man whom we all esteem--and
I from a colleague who perhaps, in the course of Thomas Roch's fits of
delirium, has learned some of his secrets? You are not serious!"
So this is why they are keeping me a prisoner in Back Cup! They
suppose that I am in part familiar with Roch's invention, and they
hope to force me to tell what I know if Thomas Roch refuses to give up
his secret. This is the reason why I was kidnapped with him, and why
I have not been accommodated with an involuntary plunge in the lagoon
with a stone fastened to my neck. I see it all now, and it is just as
well to know it.
"Very serious," I affirm, in response to the last remark of my
interlocutor.
"Well," he continues, "if I had the honor to be Simon Hart, the
engineer, I should reason as follows: 'Given, on the one hand, the
personality of Ker Karraje, the reasons which incited him to select
such a mysterious retreat as this cavern, the necessity of the said
cavern being kept from any attempt to discover it, not only in the
interest of the Count d'Artigas, but in that of his companions--'"
"Of his accomplices, if you please."
"'Of his accomplices,' then--'and on the other hand, given the
fact that I know the real name of the Count d'Artigas and in what
mysterious safe he keeps his riches--'"
"Riches stolen, and stained with blood, Mr. Serko."
"'Riches stolen and stained with blood,' if you like--'I ought
to understand that this question of liberty cannot be settled in
accordance with my desires.'"
It is useless to argue the point under these conditions, and I switch
the conversation on to another line.
"May I ask," I continue, "how you came to find out that Gaydon, the
warder, was Simon Hart, the engineer?"
"I see no reason for keeping you in ignorance on the subject, my dear
colleague. It was largely by hazard. We had certain relations with the
manufactory in New Jersey with which you were connected, and which you
quitted suddenly one day under somewhat singular circumstances. Well,
during a visit I made to Healthful House some months before the Count
d'Artigas went there, I saw and recognized you."
"You?"
"My very self, and from that moment I promised myself the pleasure of
having you for a fellow-passenger on board the -Ebba-."
I do not recall ever having seen this Serko at Healthful House, but
what he says is very likely true.
"I hope your whim of having me for a companion will cost you dear,
some day or other," I say to myself.
Then, abruptly, I go on:
"If I am not mistaken, you have succeeded in inducing Thomas Roch to
disclose the secret of his fulgurator?"
"Yes, Mr. Hart. We paid millions for it. But millions, you know, are
nothing to us. We have only the trouble of taking them! Therefore we
filled all his pockets--covered him with millions!"
"Of what use are these millions to him if he is not allowed to enjoy
them outside?"
"That, Mr. Hart, is a matter that does not trouble him a little bit!
This man of genius thinks nothing of the future: he lives but in the
present. While engines are being constructed from his plans over
yonder in America, he is preparing his explosive with chemical
substances with which he has been abundantly supplied. He! he! What an
invention it is, this autopropulsive engine, which flies through
the air of its own power and accelerates its speed till the goal is
reached, thanks to the properties of a certain powder of progressive
combustion! Here we have an invention that will bring about a radical
change in the art of war."
"Defensive war, Mr. Serko."
"And offensive war, Mr. Hart."
"Naturally," I answer.
Then pumping him still more closely, I go on:
"So, what no one else has been able to obtain from Thomas Roch--"
"We obtained without much difficulty."
"By paying him."
"By paying him an incredible price--and, moreover, by causing to
vibrate what in him is a very sensitive chord."
"What chord?"
"That of vengeance!"
"Vengeance?--against whom?"
"Against all those who have made themselves his enemies by
discouraging him, by spurning him, expelling him, by constraining
him to go a-begging from country to country with an invention of
incontestable superiority! Now all notion of patriotism is extinct in
his soul. He has now but one thought, one ferocious desire: to avenge
himself upon those who have denied him--and even upon all mankind!
Really, Mr. Hart, your governments of Europe and America committed a
stupendous blunder in refusing to pay Roch the price his fulgurator is
worth!"
And Engineer Serko describes enthusiastically the various advantages
of the new explosive which, he says, is incontestably superior to any
yet invented.
"And what a destructive effect it has," he adds. "It is analogous to
that of the Zalinski shell, but is a hundred times more powerful, and
requires no machine for firing it, as it flies through the air on its
own wings, so to speak."
I listen in the hope that Engineer Serko will give away a part of the
secret, but in vain. He is careful not to say more than he wants to.
"Has Thomas Roch," I ask, "made you acquainted with the composition of
his explosive?"
"Yes, Mr. Hart--if it is all the same to you--and we shall shortly
have considerable quantities of it stored in a safe place."
"But will there not be a great and ever-impending danger in
accumulating large quantities of it? If an accident were to happen it
would be all up with the island of----!"
Once more the name of Back Cup was on the point of escaping me.
They might consider me too well-informed if they were aware that in
addition to being acquainted with the Count d'Artigas' real name I
also know where his stronghold is situated.
Luckily Engineer Serko has not remarked my reticence, and he replies:
"There will be no cause for alarm. Thomas Roch's explosive will not
burn unless subjected to a special deflagrator. Neither fire nor shock
will explode it."
"And has Thomas Roch also sold you the secret of his deflagrator?"
"Not yet, Mr. Hart, but it will not be long before the bargain is
concluded. Therefore, I repeat, no danger is to be apprehended, and
you need not keep awake of nights on that account. A thousand devils,
sir! We have no desire to be blown up with our cavern and treasures! A
few more years of good business and we shall divide the profits, which
will be large enough to enable each one of us to live as he thinks
proper and enjoy life to the top of his bent--after the dissolution
of the firm of Ker Karraje and Co. I may add that though there is
no danger of an explosion, we have everything to fear from a
denunciation--which you are in the position to make, Mr. Hart.
Therefore, if you take my advice, you will, like a sensible man,
resign yourself to the inevitable until the disbanding of the company.
We shall then see what in the interest of our security is best to be
done with you!"
It will be admitted that these words are not exactly calculated to
reassure me. However, a lot of things may happen ere then. I have
learned one good thing from this conversation, and that is that if
Thomas Roch has sold his explosive to Ker Karraje and Co., he has
at any rate, kept the secret of his deflagrator, without which the
explosive is of no more value than the dust of the highway.
But before terminating the interview I think I ought to make a very
natural observation to Mr. Serko.
"Sir," I say, "you are now acquainted with the composition of Thomas
Roch's explosive. Does it really possess the destructive power that
the inventor attributes to it? Has it ever been tried? May you not
have purchased a composition as inert as a pinch of snuff?"
"You are doubtless better informed upon this point than you pretend,
Mr. Hart. Nevertheless, I thank you for the interest you manifest in
our affairs, and am able to reassure you. The other night we made
a series of decisive experiments. With only a few grains of this
substance great blocks of rock were reduced to impalpable dust!"
This explanation evidently applies to the detonation I heard.
"Thus, my dear colleague," continues Engineer Serko, "I can assure you
that our expectations have been answered. The effects of the explosive
surpass anything that could have been imagined. A few thousand tons of
it would burst our spheroid and scatter the fragments into space. You
can be absolutely certain that it is capable of destroying no matter
what vessel at a distance considerably greater than that attained by
present projectiles and within a zone of at least a mile. The weak
point in the invention is that rather too much time has to be expended
in regulating the firing."
Engineer Serko stops short, as though reluctant to give any further
information, but finally adds:
"Therefore, I end as I began, Mr. Hart. Resign yourself to the
inevitable. Accept your new existence without reserve. Give yourself
up to the tranquil delights of this subterranean life. If one is in
good health, one preserves it; if one has lost one's health, one
recovers it here. That is what is happening to your fellow countryman.
Yes, the best thing you can do is to resign yourself to your lot."
Thereupon this giver of good advice leaves me, after saluting me
with a friendly gesture, like a man whose good intentions merit
appreciation. But what irony there is in his words, in his glance, in
his attitude. Shall I ever be able to get even with him?
I now know that at any rate it is not easy to regulate the aim of
Roch's auto-propulsive engine. It is probable that it always bursts at
the same distance, and that beyond the zone in which the effects of
the fulgurator are so terrible, and once it has been passed, a ship is
safe from its effects. If I could only inform the world of this vital
fact!
-August 20-.--For two days no incident worth recording has occurred. I
have explored Back Cup to its extreme limits. At night when the long
perspective of arched columns are illuminated by the electric lamps, I
am almost religiously impressed when I gaze upon the natural wonders
of this cavern, which has become my prison. I have never given up hope
of finding somewhere in the walls a fissure of some kind of which the
pirates are ignorant and through which I could make my escape. It is
true that once outside I should have to wait till a passing ship hove
in sight. My evasion would speedily be known at the Beehive, and I
should soon be recaptured, unless--a happy thought strikes me--unless
I could get at the -Ebba's- boat that was drawn up high and dry on the
little sandy beach in the creek. In this I might be able to make my
way to St. George or Hamilton.
This evening--it was about nine o'clock--I stretched myself on a bed
of sand at the foot of one of the columns, about one hundred yards to
the east of the lagoon. Shortly afterwards I heard footsteps, then
voices. Hiding myself as best I could behind the rocky base of the
pillar, I listened with all my ears.
I recognized the voices as those of Ker Karraje and Engineer Serko.
The two men stopped close to where I was lying, and continued their
conversation in English--which is the language generally used in Back
Cup. I was therefore able to understand all that they said.
They were talking about Thomas Roch, or rather his fulgurator.
"In a week's time," said Ker Karraje, "I shall put to sea in the
-Ebba-, and fetch the sections of the engines that are being cast in
that Virginian foundry."
"And when they are here," observed Engineer Serko, "I will piece them
together and fix up the frames for firing them. But beforehand, there
is a job to be done which it seems to me is indispensable."
"What is that?"
"To cut a tunnel through the wall of the cavern."
"Through the wall of the cavern?"
"Oh! nothing but a narrow passage through which only one man at a time
could squeeze, a hole easy enough to block, and the outside end of
which would be hidden among the rocks."
"Of what use could it be to us, Serko?"
"I have often thought about the utility of having some other way of
getting out besides the submarine tunnel. We never know what the
future may have in store for us."
"But the walls are so thick and hard," objected Ker Karraje.
"Oh, with a few grains of Roch's explosive I undertake to reduce the
rock to such fine powder that we shall be able to blow it away with
our breath," Serko replied.
It can easily be imagined with what interest and eagerness I listened
to this. Here was a ray of hope. It. was proposed to open up
communication with the outside by a tunnel in the wall, and this held
out the possibility of escape.
As this thought flashed through my mind, Ker Karraje said:
"Very well, Serko, and if it becomes necessary some day to defend Back
Cup and prevent any ship from approaching it----. It is true," he went
on, without finishing the reflection, "our retreat would have to have
been discovered by accident--or by denunciation."
"We have nothing to fear either from accident or denunciation,"
affirmed Serko.
"By one of our band, no, of course not, but by Simon Hart, perhaps."
"Hart!" exclaimed Serko. "He would have to escape first and no one can
escape from Back Cup. I am, by the bye, interested in this Hart. He is
a colleague, after all, and I have always suspected that he knows more
about Roch's invention than he pretends. I will get round him so that
we shall soon be discussing physics, mechanics, and matters ballistic
like a couple of friends."
"No matter," replied the generous and sensible Count d'Artigas, "when
we are in full possession of the secret we had better get rid of the
fellow."
"We have plenty of time to do that, Ker Karraje."
"If God permits you to, you wretches," I muttered to myself, while my
heart thumped against my ribs.
And yet, without the intervention of Providence, what hope is there
for me?
The conversation then took another direction.
"Now that we know the composition of the explosive, Serko," said Ker
Karraje, "we must, at all cost, get that of the deflagrator from
Thomas Roch."
"Yes," replied Engineer Serko, "that is what I am trying to do.
Unfortunately, however, Roch positively refuses to discuss it. Still
he has already made a few drops of it with which those experiments
were made, and he will furnish as with some more to blow a hole
through the wall."
"But what about our expeditions at sea?" queried Ker Karraje.
"Patience! We shall end by getting Roch's thunderbolts entirely in our
own hand, and then----"
"Are you sure, Serko?"
"Quite sure,--by paying the price, Ker Karraje."
The conversation dropped at this point, and they strolled off without
having seen me--very luckily for me, I guess. If Engineer Serko spoke
up somewhat in defence of a colleague, Ker Karraje is apparently
animated with much less benevolent sentiments in regard to me. On the
least suspicion they would throw me into the lake, and if I ever got
through the tunnel, it would only be as a corpse carried out by the
ebbing tide.
-August 21-.--Engineer Serko has been prospecting with a view to
piercing the proposed passage through the wall, in such a way that its
existence will never be dreamed of outside. After a minute examination
he decided to tunnel through the northern end of the cavern about
sixty feet from the first cells of the Beehive.
I am anxious for the passage to be made, for who knows but what it may
be the way to freedom for me? Ah! if I only knew how to swim, perhaps
I should have attempted to escape through the submarine tunnel, as
since it was disclosed by the lashing back of the waters by the whale
in its death-struggle, I know exactly where the orifice is situated.
It seems to me that at the time of the great tides, this orifice must
be partly uncovered. At the full and new moon, when the sea attains
its maximum depression below the normal level, it is possible that--I
must satisfy myself about this.
I do not know how the fact will help me in any way, even if the
entrance to the tunnel is partly uncovered, but I cannot afford to
miss any detail that may possibly aid in my escape from Back Cup.
-August 29-.--This morning I am witnessing the departure of the tug.
The Count d'Artigas is, no doubt, going off in the -Ebba- to fetch
the sections of Thomas Roch's engines. Before embarking, the Count
converses long and earnestly with Engineer Serko, who, apparently, is
not going to accompany him on this trip, and is evidently giving him
some recommendations, of which I may be the object. Then, having
stepped on to the platform, he goes below, the lid shuts with a bang,
and the tug sinks out of sight, leaving a trail of bubbles behind it.
The hours go by, night is coming on, yet the tug does not return. I
conclude that it has gone to tow the schooner, and perhaps to destroy
any merchant vessels that may come in their way.
It cannot, however, be absent very long, as the trip to America and
back will not take more than a week.
Besides, if I can judge from the calm atmosphere in the interior of
the cavern, the -Ebba- must be favored with beautiful weather. This
is, in fact, the fine season in this part of the world. Ah! if only I
could break out of my prison!
CHAPTER XIII.
GOD BE WITH IT.
-From August 29 to September 10-.--Thirteen days have gone by and
the -Ebba- has not returned. Did she then not make straight for the
American coast? Has she been delayed by a buccaneering cruise in the
neighborhood of Back Cup? It seems to me that Ker Karraje's only
desire would be to get back with the sections of Roch's engines as
soon as possible. Maybe the Virginian foundry had not quite finished
them.
Engineer Serko does not display the least anxiety or impatience. He
continues to greet me with his accustomed ironical cordiality, and
with a kindly air that I distrust--with good reason. He affects to be
solicitous as to my health, urges me to make the best of a bad job,
calls me Ali Baba, assures me that there is not, in the whole world,
such an enchanting spot as this Arabian Nights cavern, observes that I
am fed, warmed, lodged, and clothed, that I have no taxes to pay, and
that even the inhabitants of the favored principality of Monaco do not
enjoy an existence more free from care.
Sometimes this ironical verbiage brings the blood to my face, and I
am tempted to seize this cynical banterer by the throat and choke the
life out of him. They would kill me afterwards. Still, what would that
matter! Would it not be better to end in this way than to spend years
and years amid these infernal and infamous surroundings? However,
while there is life there is hope, I reflect, and this thought
restrains me.
I have scarcely set eyes upon Thomas Roch since the -Ebba- went away.
He shuts himself up in his laboratory and works unceasingly. If he
utilizes all the substances placed at his disposition there will be
enough to blow up Back Cup and the whole Bermudan archipelago with it!
I cling to the hope that he will never consent to give up the secret
of his deflagrator, and that Engineer Serko's efforts to acquire it
will remain futile.
-September 3-.--To-day I have been able to witness with my own eyes
the power of Roch's explosive, and also the manner in which the
fulgurator is employed.
During the morning the men began to pierce the passage through the
wall of the cavern at the spot fixed upon by Engineer Serko, who
superintended the work in person. The work began at the base, where
the rock is as hard as granite. To have continued it with pickaxes
would have entailed long and arduous labor, inasmuch as the wall at
this place is not less than from twenty to thirty yards in thickness,
but thanks to Roch's fulgurator the passage will be completed easily
and rapidly.
I may well be astonished at what I have seen. The pickaxes hardly made
any impression on the rock, but its disaggregation was effected with
really remarkable facility by means of the fulgurator.
A few grains of this explosive shattered the rocky mass and reduced it
to almost impalpable powder that one's breath could disperse as easily
as vapor. The explosion produced an excavation measuring fully a cubic
yard. It was accompanied by a sharp detonation that may be compared to
the report of a cannon.
The first charge used, although a very small one, a mere pinch, blew
the men in every direction, and two of them were seriously injured.
Engineer Serko himself was projected several yards, and sustained some
rather severe contusions.
Here is how this substance, whose bursting force surpasses anything
hitherto conceived, is employed.
A small hole about an inch and a half in length is pierced obliquely
in the rock. A few grains of the explosive are then inserted, but no
wad is used.
Then Thomas Roch steps forward. In his hand is a little glass phial
containing a bluish, oily liquid that congeals almost as soon as it
comes in contact with the air. He pours one drop on the entrance of
the hole, and draws back, but not with undue haste. It takes a certain
time--about thirty-five seconds, I reckon--before the combination of
the fulgurator and deflagrator is effected. But when the explosion
does take place its power of disaggregation is such--I repeat--that
it may be regarded as unlimited. It is at any rate a thousand times
superior to that of any known explosive.
Under these circumstances it will probably not take more than a week
to complete the tunnel.
-September 19-.--For some time past I have observed that the tide
rises and falls twice every twenty-four hours, and that the ebb and
flow produce a rather swift current through the submarine tunnel. It
is pretty certain therefore that a floating object thrown into the
lagoon when the top of the orifice is uncovered would be carried out
by the receding tide. It is just possible that during the lowest
equinoctial tides the top of the orifice is uncovered. This I shall be
able to ascertain, as this is precisely the time they occur. To-day,
September 19, I could almost distinguish the summit of the hole under
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