After assuring himself that nobody happened to be in the neighborhood
of the pavilion the captain entered, followed by his men. The door was
left wide open, so that they could beat a hurried and uninterrupted
retreat in case of necessity. The trees and bushes in this shady part
of the park were very thick, and it was so dark that it would not have
been easy to distinguish the pavilion had not a light shone brightly
in one of the windows.
No doubt this was the window of the room occupied by Roch and his
guardian, Gaydon, seeing that the latter never left the patient placed
in his charge either by night or day. Captain Spade had expected to
find him there.
The party approached cautiously, taking the utmost precaution to avoid
kicking a pebble or stepping on a twig, the noise of which might have
revealed their presence. In this way they reached the door of the
pavilion near which was the curtained window of the room in which the
light was burning.
But if the door was locked, how were they going to get in? Captain
Spade must have asked himself. He had no key, and to attempt to effect
an entrance through the window would be hazardous, for, unless Gaydon
could be prevented from giving the alarm, he would rouse the whole
establishment.
There was no help for it, however. The essential was to get possession
of Roch. If they could kidnap Gaydon, too, in conformity with the
intentions of the Count d'Artigas, so much the better. If not--
Captain Spade crept stealthily to the window, and standing on tiptoe,
looked in. Through an aperture in the curtain he could see all over
the room.
Gaydon was standing beside Thomas Roch, who had not yet recovered from
the fit with which he had been attacked during the Count d'Artigas'
visit. His condition necessitated special attention, and the warder
was ministering to the patient under the direction of a third person.
The latter was one of the doctors attached to Healthful House, and had
been at once sent to the pavilion by the director when Roch's
paroxysm came on. His presence of course rendered the situation more
complicated and the work of the kidnappers more difficult.
Roch, fully dressed, was extended upon a sofa. He was now fairly calm.
The paroxysm, which was abating, would be followed by several hours of
torpor and exhaustion.
Just as Captain Spade peeped through the window the doctor was making
preparations to leave. The Captain heard him say to Gaydon that his
(the doctor's) presence was not likely to be required any more that
night, and that there was nothing to be done beyond following the
instructions he had given.
The doctor then walked towards the door, which, it will be remembered,
was close to the window in front of which Spade and his men were
standing. If they remained where they were they could not fail to be
seen, not only by the doctor, but by the warder, who was accompanying
him to the door.
Before they made their appearance, however, the sailors, at a sign
from their chief, had dispersed and hidden themselves behind the
bushes, while Spade himself crouched in the shadow beneath the window.
Luckily Gaydon had not brought the lamp with him, so that the captain
was in no danger of being seen.
As he was about to take leave of Gaydon, the doctor stopped on the
step and remarked:
"This is one of the worst attacks our patient has had. One or two more
like that and he will lose the little reason he still possesses."
"Just so," said Gaydon. "I wonder that the director doesn't prohibit
all visitors from entering the pavilion. Roch owes his present attack
to a Count d'Artigas, for whose amusement harmful questions were put
to him."
"I will call the director's attention to the matter," responded the
doctor.
He then descended the steps and Gaydon, leaving the door of the
pavilion ajar, accompanied him to the end of the path.
When they had gone Captain Spade stood up, and his men rejoined him.
Had they not better profit by the chance thus unexpectedly afforded
them to enter the room and secure Roch, who was in a semi-comatose
condition, and then await Gaydon's return, and seize the warder as he
entered?
This would have involved considerable risk. Gaydon, at a glance, would
perceive that his patient was missing and raise an alarm; the doctor
would come running back; the whole staff of Healthful House would
turn out, and Spade would not have time to escape with his precious
prisoner and lock the door in the wall after him.
He did not have much chance to deliberate about it, for the warder was
heard returning along the gravel path. Spade decided that the best
thing to be done was to spring upon him as he passed and stifle
his cries and overpower him before he could attempt to offer any
resistance. The carrying off of the mad inventor would be easy enough,
inasmuch as he was unconscious, and could not raise a finger to help
himself.
Gaydon came round a clump of bushes and approached the entrance to the
pavilion. As he raised his foot to mount the steps the four sailors
sprang upon him, bore him backwards to the ground, and had gagged him,
securely bound him hand and foot, and bandaged his eyes before he
began to realize what had happened.
Two of the men then kept guard over him, while Captain Spade and the
others entered the house.
As the captain had surmised, Thomas Roch had sunk into such a torpor
that he could have heard nothing of what had been going on outside.
Reclining at full length, with his eyes closed, he might have been
taken for a dead man but for his heavy breathing. There was no need
either to bind or gag him. One man took him by the head and another by
the feet and started off with him to the schooner.
Captain Spade was the last to quit the house after extinguishing the
lamp and closing the door behind him. In this way there was no reason
to suppose that the inmates would be missed before morning.
Gaydon was carried off in the same way as Thomas Roch had been. The
two remaining sailors lifted him and bore him quietly but rapidly down
the path to the door in the wall. The park was pitch dark. Not even a
glimmer of the lights in the windows of Healthful House could be seen
through the thick foliage.
Arrived at the wall, Spade, who had led the way, stepped aside to
allow the sailors with their burdens to pass through, then followed
and closed and locked the door. He put the key in his pocket,
intending to throw it into the Neuse as soon as they were safely on
board the schooner.
There was no one on the road, nor on the bank of the river.
The party made for the boat, and found that Effrondat, the boatswain,
had made all ready to receive them.
Thomas Roch and Gaydon were laid in the bottom of the boat, and the
sailors again took their places at the oars.
"Hurry up, Effrondat, and cast off the painter," ordered the captain.
The boatswain obeyed, and pushed the boat off with his foot as he
scrambled in.
The men bent to their oars and rowed rapidly to the schooner, which
was easily distinguishable, having hung out a light at her mizzenmast
head.
In two minutes they were alongside.
The Count d'Artigas was leaning on the bulwarks by the gangway.
"All right, Spade?" he questioned.
"Yes, sir, all right!"
"Both of them?"
"Both the madman and his keeper."
"Doesn't anybody know about it up at Healthful House?
"Not a soul."
It was not likely that Gaydon, whose eyes and ears were bandaged, but
who preserved all his sang-froid, could have recognized the voices of
the Count d'Artigas and Captain Spade. Nor did he have the chance to.
No attempt was immediately made to hoist him on board. He had been
lying in the bottom of the boat alongside the schooner for fully
half an hour, he calculated, before he felt himself lifted, and then
lowered, doubtless to the bottom of the hold.
The kidnapping having been accomplished it would seem that it only
remained for the -Ebba- to weigh anchor, descend the estuary and make
her way out to sea through Pamlico Sound. Yet no preparations for
departure were made.
Was it not dangerous to stay where they were after their daring
raid? Had the Count d'Artigas hidden his prisoners so securely as to
preclude the possibility of their being discovered if the -Ebba-,
whose presence in proximity to Healthful House could not fail to
excite suspicion, received a visit from the New-Berne police?
However this might have been, an hour after the return of the
expedition, every soul on board save the watch--the Count d'Artigas,
Serko, and Captain Spade in their respective cabins, and the crew in
the fore-castle, were sound asleep.
CHAPTER IV.
THE SCHOONER EBBA.
It was not till the next morning, and then very leisurely, that
the -Ebba- began to make preparations for her departure. From the
extremity of New-Berne quay the crew might have been seen holystoning
the deck, after which they loosened the reef lines, under the
direction of Effrondat, the boatswain, hoisted in the boats and
cleared the halyards.
At eight o'clock the Count d'Artigas had not yet appeared on deck.
His companion, Serko the engineer, as he was called on board, had not
quitted his cabin. Captain Spade was strolling quietly about giving
orders.
The -Ebba- would have made a splendid racing yacht, though she had
never participated in any of the yacht races either on the North
American or British coasts. The height of her masts, the extent of
the canvas she carried, her shapely, raking hull, denoted her to be a
craft of great speed, and her general lines showed that she was also
built to weather the roughest gales at sea. In a favorable wind she
would probably make twelve knots an hour.
Notwithstanding these advantages, however, she must in a dead calm
necessarily suffer from the same disadvantages as other sailing
vessels, and it might have been supposed that the Count d'Artigas
would have preferred a steam-yacht with which he could have gone
anywhere, at any time, in any weather. But apparently he was satisfied
to stick to the old method, even when he made his long trips across
the Atlantic.
On this particular morning the wind was blowing gently from the west,
which was very favorable to the -Ebba-, and would enable her to stand
straight out of the Neuse, across Pamlico Sound, and through one of
the inlets that led to the open sea.
At ten o'clock the -Ebba- was still rocking lazily at anchor, her stem
up stream and her cable tautened by the rapidly ebbing tide. The small
buoy that on the previous evening had been moored near the schooner
was no longer to be seen, and had doubtless been hoisted in.
Suddenly a gun boomed out and a slight wreath of white smoke arose
from the battery. It was answered by other reports from the guns on
the chain of islands along the coast.
At this moment the Count d'Artigas and Engineer Serko appeared on
deck. Captain Spade went to meet them.
"Guns barking," he said laconically.
"We expected it," replied Serko, shrugging his shoulders. "They are
signals to close the passes."
"What has that to do with us?" asked the Count d'Artigas quietly.
"Nothing at all," said the engineer.
They all, of course, knew that the alarm-guns indicated that the
disappearance of Thomas Roch and the warder Gaydon from Healthful
House had been discovered.
At daybreak the doctor had gone to Pavilion No. 17 to see how
his patient had passed the night, and had found no one there. He
immediately notified the director, who had the grounds thoroughly
searched. It was then discovered that the door in rear of the park was
unbolted, and that, though locked, the key had been taken away. It was
evident that Roch and his attendant had been carried out that way. But
who were the kidnappers? No one could possibly imagine. All that could
be ascertained was that at half-past seven on the previous night one
of the doctors had attended Thomas Roch, who was suffering from one of
his fits, and that when the medical man had left him the invalid was
in an unconscious condition. What had happened after the doctor took
leave of Gaydon at the end of the garden-path could not even be
conjectured.
The news of the disappearance was telegraphed to New Berne, and thence
to Raleigh. On receipt of it the Governor had instantly wired orders
that no vessel was to be allowed to quit Pamlico Sound without having
been first subjected to a most rigorous search. Another dispatch
ordered the cruiser -Falcon-, which was stationed in the port, to
carry out the Governor's instructions in this respect. At the same
time measures were taken to keep a strict lookout in every town and
village in the State.
The Count d'Artigas could see the -Falcon-, which was a couple of
miles away to the east in the estuary, getting steam up and making
hurried preparations to carry out her mission. It would take at least
an hour before the warship could be got ready to steam out, and the
schooner might by that time have gained a good start.
"Shall I weigh anchor?" demanded Captain Spade.
"Yes, as we have a fair wind; but you can take your time about it,"
replied the Count d'Artigas.
"The passes of Pamlico Sound will be under observation," observed
Engineer Serko, "and no vessel will be able to get out without
receiving a visit from gentlemen as inquisitive as they will be
indiscreet."
"Never mind, get under way all the same," ordered the Count. "When the
officers of the cruiser or the Custom-House officers have been over
the -Ebba- the embargo will be raised. I shall be indeed surprised if
we are not allowed to go about our business."
"With a thousand pardons for the liberty taken, and best wishes for a
good voyage and speedy return," chuckled Engineer Serko, following the
phrase with a loud and prolonged laugh.
When the news was received at New-Berne, the authorities at first were
puzzled to know whether the missing inventor and his keeper had fled
or been carried off. As, however, Roch's flight could not have taken
place without the connivance of Gaydon, this supposition was speedily
abandoned. In the opinion of the director and management of Healthful
House the warder was absolutely above suspicion. They must both, then,
have been kidnapped.
It can easily be imagined what a sensation the news caused in the
town. What! the French inventor who had been so closely guarded had
disappeared, and with him the secret of the wonderful fulgurator that
nobody had been able to worm out of him? Might not the most serious
consequences follow? Might not the discovery of the new engine be lost
to America forever? If the daring act had been perpetrated on behalf
of another nation, might not that nation, having Thomas Roch in
its power, be eventually able to extract from him what the Federal
Government had vainly endeavored to obtain? And was it reasonable, was
it permissible, to suppose for an instant that he had been carried off
for the benefit of a private individual?
Certainly not, was the emphatic reply to the latter question, which
was too ridiculous to be entertained. Therefore the whole power of
the State was employed in an effort to recover the inventor. In every
county of North Carolina a special surveillance was organized on
every road and at every railroad station, and every house in town
and country was searched. Every port from Wilmington to Norfolk was
closed, and no craft of any description could leave without being
thoroughly overhauled. Not only the cruiser -Falcon-, but every
available cutter and launch was sent out with orders to patrol
Pamlico Sound and board yachts, merchant vessels and fishing smacks
indiscriminately whether anchored or not and search them down to the
keelson.
Still the crew of the -Ebba- prepared calmly to weigh anchor, and the
Count d'Artigas did not appear to be in the least concerned at the
orders of the authorities and at the consequences that would ensue, if
Thomas Roch and his keeper, Gaydon, were found on board.
At last all was ready, the crew manned the capstan bars, the sails
were hoisted, and the schooner glided gracefully through the water
towards the Sound.
Twenty miles from New-Berne the estuary curves abruptly and shoots off
towards the northwest for about the same distance, gradually widening
until it empties itself into Pamlico Sound.
The latter is a vast expanse about seventy miles across from Sivan
Island to Roanoke. On the seaward side stretches a chain of long and
narrow islands, forming a natural breakwater north and south from
Cape Lookout to Cape Hatteras and from the latter to Cape Henry, near
Norfolk City, in Virginia.
Numerous beacons on the islands and islets form an easy guide for
vessels at night seeking refuge from the Atlantic gales, and once
inside the chain they are certain of finding plenty of good anchoring
grounds.
Several passes afford an outlet from the Sound to the sea. Beyond
Sivan Island lighthouse is Ocracoke inlet, and next is the inlet of
Hatteras. There are also three others known as Logger Head inlet, New
inlet, and Oregon inlet. The Ocracoke was the one nearest the -Ebba-,
and she could make it without tacking, but the -Falcon- was searching
all vessels that passed through. This did not, however, make any
particular difference, for by this time all the passes, upon which
the guns of the forts had been trained, were guarded by government
vessels.
The -Ebba-, therefore, kept on her way, neither trying to avoid
nor offering to approach the searchers. She seemed to be merely a
pleasure-yacht out for a morning sail.
No attempt had up to that time been made to accost her. Was she, then,
specially privileged, and to be spared the bother of being searched?
Was the Count d'Artigas considered too high and mighty a personage to
be thus molested, and delayed even for an hour? It was unlikely, for
though he was regarded as a distinguished foreigner who lived the life
of luxury enjoyed by the favored of fortune, no one, as a matter of
fact, knew who he was, nor whence he came, nor whither he was going.
The schooner sped gracefully over the calm waters of the sound, her
flag--a gold crescent in the angle of a red field--streaming proudly
in the breeze. Count d'Artigas was cosily ensconced in a basket-work
chair on the after-deck, conversing with Engineer Serko and Captain
Spade.
"They don't seem in a hurry to board us," remarked Serko.
"They can come whenever they think proper," said the Count in a tone
of supreme indifference.
"No doubt they are waiting for us at the entrance to the inlet,"
suggested Captain Spade.
"Let them wait," grunted the wealthy nobleman.
Then he relapsed into his customary unconcerned impassibility.
Captain Spade's hypothesis was doubtless correct. The -Falcon- had as
yet made no move towards the schooner, but would almost certainly do
so as soon as the latter reached the inlet, and the Count would have
to submit to a search of his vessel if he wished to reach the open
sea.
How was it then that he manifested such extraordinary unconcern? Were
Thomas Roch and Gaydon so safely hidden that their hiding-place could
not possibly be discovered?
The thing was possible, but perhaps the Count d'Artigas would not have
been quite so confident had he been aware that the -Ebba- had been
specially signalled to the warship and revenue cutters as a suspect.
The Count's visit to Healthful House on the previous day had now
attracted particular attention to him and his schooner. Evidently, at
the time, the director could have had no reason to suspect the motive
of his visit. But a few hours later, Thomas Roch and his keeper had
been carried off. No one else from outside had been near the pavilion
that day. It was admitted that it would have been an easy matter for
the Count's companion, while the former distracted the director's
attention, to push back the bolts of the door in the wall and steal
the key. Then the fact that the -Ebba- was anchored in rear of, and
only a few hundred yards from, the estate, was in itself suspicious.
Nothing would have been easier for the desperadoes than to enter by
the door, surprise their victims, and carry them off to the schooner.
These suspicions, neither the director nor the -personnel- of the
establishment had at first liked to give expression to, but when
the -Ebba- was seen to weigh anchor and head for the open sea, they
appeared to be confirmed.
They were communicated to the authorities of New-Berne, who
immediately ordered the commander of the -Falcon- to intercept the
schooner, to search her minutely high and low, and from stem to stern,
and on no account to let her proceed, unless he was absolutely certain
that Roch and Gaydon were not on board.
Assuredly the Count d'Artigas could have had no idea that his vessel
was the object of such stringent orders; but even if he had, it is
questionable whether this superbly haughty and disdainful nobleman
would have manifested any particular anxiety.
Towards three o'clock, the warship which was cruising before the
inlet, after having sent search parties aboard a few fishing-smacks,
suddenly manoeuvred to the entrance of the pass, and awaited the
approaching schooner. The latter surely did not imagine that she could
force a passage in spite of the cruiser, or escape from a vessel
propelled by steam. Besides, had she attempted such a foolhardy
trick, a couple of shots from the -Falcon's- guns would speedily have
constrained her to lay to.
Presently a boat, manned by two officers and ten sailors, put off from
the cruiser and rowed towards the -Ebba-. When they were only about
half a cable's length off, one of the men rose and waved a flag.
"That's a signal to stop," said Engineer Serko.
"Precisely," remarked the Count d'Artigas.
"We shall have to lay to."
"Then lay to."
Captain Spade went forward and gave the necessary orders, and in a few
minutes the vessel slackened speed, and was soon merely drifting with
the tide.
The -Falcon's- boat pulled alongside, and a man in the bows held on to
her with a boat-hook. The gangway was lowered by a couple of hands on
the schooner, and the two officers, followed by eight of their men,
climbed on deck.
They found the crew of the -Ebba- drawn up in line on the forecastle.
The officer in command of the boarding-party--a first
lieutenant--advanced towards the owner of the schooner, and the
following questions and answers were exchanged:
"This schooner belongs to the Count d'Artigas, to whom, I presume, I
have the honor of speaking?"
"Yes, sir."
"What is her name?"
"The -Ebba-."
"She is commanded by?--"
"Captain Spade."
"What is his nationality?"
"Hindo-Malay."
The officer scrutinized the schooner's flag, while the Count d'Artigas
added:
"Will you be good enough to tell me, sir, to what circumstance I owe
the pleasure of your visit on board my vessel?"
"Orders have been received," replied the officer, "to search every
vessel now anchored in Pamlico Sound, or which attempts to leave it."
He did not deem it necessary to insist upon this point since the
-Ebba-, above every other, was to be subjected to the bother of a
rigorous examination.
"You, of course, sir, have no intention of refusing me permission to
go over your schooner?"
"Assuredly not, sir. My vessel is at your disposal from peaks to
bilges. Only I should like to know why all the vessels which happen to
be in Pamlico Sound to-day are being subjected to this formality."
"I see no reason why you should not be informed, Monsieur the Count,"
replied the officer. "The governor of North Carolina has been apprised
that Healthful House has been broken into and two persons kidnapped,
and the authorities merely wish to satisfy themselves that the persons
carried off have not been embarked during the night."
"Is it possible?" exclaimed the Count, feigning surprise. "And who are
the persons who have thus disappeared from Healthful House?"
"An inventor--a madman--and his keeper."
"A madman, sir? Do you, may I ask, refer to the Frenchman, Thomas
Roch?"
"The same."
"The Thomas Roch whom I saw yesterday during my visit to the
establishment--whom I questioned in presence of the director--who
was seized with a violent paroxysm just as Captain Spade and I were
leaving?"
The officer observed the stranger with the keenest attention, in an
effort to surprise anything suspicious in his attitude or remarks.
"It is incredible!" added the Count, as though he had just heard about
the outrage for the first time.
"I can easily understand, sir, how uneasy the authorities must be,"
he went on, "in view of Thomas Roch's personality, and I cannot but
approve of the measures taken. I need hardly say that neither the
French inventor nor his keeper is on board the -Ebba-. However, you
can assure yourself of the fact by examining the schooner as minutely
as you desire. Captain Spade, show these gentlemen over the vessel."
Then saluting the lieutenant of the -Falcon- coldly, the Count
d'Artigas sank into his deck-chair again and replaced his cigar
between his lips, while the two officers and eight sailors, conducted
by Captain Spade, began their search.
In the first place they descended the main hatchway to the after
saloon--a luxuriously-appointed place, filled with art objects of
great value, hung with rich tapestries and hangings, and wainscotted
with costly woods.
It goes without saying that this and the adjoining cabins were
searched with a care that could not have been surpassed by the most
experienced detectives. Moreover, Captain Spade assisted them by every
means in his power, obviously anxious that they should not preserve
the slightest suspicion of the -Ebba's- owner.
After the grand saloon and cabins, the elegant dining-saloon was
visited. Then the cook's galley, Captain Spade's cabin, and the
quarters of the crew in the forecastle were overhauled, but no sign of
Thomas Roch or Gaydon was to be seen.
Next, every inch of the hold, etc., was examined, with the aid of a
couple of lanterns. Water-kegs, wine, brandy, whisky and beer barrels,
biscuit-boxes, in fact, all the provision boxes and everything the
hold contained, including the stock of coal, was moved and probed, and
even the bilges were scrutinized, but all in vain.
Evidently the suspicion that the Count d'Artigas had carried off
the missing men was unfounded and unjust. Even a rat could not have
escaped the notice of the vigilant searchers, leave alone two men.
When they returned on deck, however, the officers, as a matter of
precaution looked into the boats hanging on the davits, and punched
the lowered sails, with the same result.
It only remained for them, therefore, to take leave of the Count
d'Artigas.
"You must pardon us for having disturbed you, Monsieur the Count,"
said the lieutenant.
"You were compelled to obey your orders, gentlemen."
"It was merely a formality, of course," ventured the officer.
By a slight inclination of the head the Count signified that he was
quite willing to accept this euphemism.
"I assure you, gentlemen, that I have had no hand in this kidnapping."
"We can no longer believe so, Monsieur the Count, and will withdraw."
"As you please. Is the -Ebba- now free to proceed?"
"Certainly."
"Then -au revoir-, gentlemen, -au revoir-, for I am an -habitué- of
this coast and shall soon be back again. I hope that ere my return you
will have discovered the author of the outrage, and have Thomas Roch
safely back in Healthful House. It is a consummation devoutly to be
wished in the interest of the United States--I might even say of the
whole world."
The two officers courteously saluted the Count, who responded with a
nod. Captain Spade accompanied them to the gangway, and they were soon
making for the cruiser, which had steamed near to pick them up.
Meanwhile the breeze had freshened considerably, and when, at a sign
from d'Artigas, Captain Spade set sail again, the -Ebba- skimmed
swiftly through the inlet, and half an hour after was standing out to
sea.
For an hour she continued steering east-northeast, and then, the wind,
being merely a land breeze, dropped, and the schooner lay becalmed,
her sails limp, and her flag drooping like a wet rag. It seemed that
it would be impossible for the vessel to continue her voyage that
night unless a breeze sprang up, and of this there was no sign.
Since the schooner had cleared the inlet Captain Spade had stood in
the bows gazing into the water, now to port, now to starboard, as if
on the lookout for something. Presently he shouted in a stentorian
voice:
"Furl sail!"
The sailors rushed to their posts, and in an instant the sails came
rattling down and were furled.
Was it Count d'Artigas' intention to wait there till daybreak brought
a breeze with it? Presumably, or the sails would have remained hoisted
to catch the faintest puff.
A boat was lowered and Captain Spade jumped into it, accompanied by
a sailor, who paddled it towards an object that was floating on the
water a few yards away.
This object was a small buoy, similar to that which had floated on the
bosom of the Neuse when the -Ebba- lay off Healthful House.
The buoy, with a towline affixed to it, was lifted into the boat that
was then paddled to the bow of the -Ebba-, from the deck of which
another hawser was cast to the captain, who made it fast to the
towline of the buoy. Having dropped the latter overboard again, the
captain and the sailor returned to the ship and the boat was hoisted
in.
Almost immediately the hawser tautened, and the -Ebba-, though not a
stitch of canvas had been set, sped off in an easterly direction at a
speed that could not have been less than ten knots an hour.
Night was falling fast, and soon the rapidly receding lights along the
American coast were lost in the mist on the horizon.
CHAPTER V.
WHERE AM I?
(Notes by Simon Hart, the Engineer.)
Where am I? What has happened since the sudden aggression of which I
was the victim near the pavilion?
I had just quitted the doctor, and was about to mount the steps, close
the door and resume my post beside Thomas Roch when several men
sprang upon me and knocked me down. Who are they? My eyes having been
bandaged I was unable to recognize them. I could not cry for help,
having been gagged. I could make no resistance, for they had bound me
hand and foot. Thus powerless, I felt myself lifted and carried about
one hundred paces, then hoisted, then lowered, then laid down.
Where? Where?
And Thomas Roch, what has become of him? It must have been he rather
than I they were after. I was but Gaydon, the warder. None suspected
that I was Simon Hart, the engineer, nor could they have suspected my
nationality. Why, therefore, should they have desired to kidnap a mere
hospital attendant?
There can consequently be no doubt that the French inventor has been
carried off; and if he was snatched from Healthful House it must have
been in the hope of forcing his secret from him.
But I am reasoning on the supposition that Thomas Roch was carried off
with me. Is it so? Yes--it must be--it is. I can entertain no doubt
whatever about it. I have not fallen into the hands of malefactors
whose only intention is robbery. They would not have acted in this
way. After rendering it impossible for me to cry out, after having
thrown me into a clump of bushes in the corner of the garden, after
having kidnapped Thomas Roch they would not have shut me up--where I
now am.
Where? This is the question which I have been asking myself for hours
without being able to answer it.
However, one thing is certain, and that is that I have embarked upon
an extraordinary adventure, that will end?--In what manner I know
not--I dare not even imagine what the upshot of it will be. Anyhow,
it is my intention to commit to memory, minute by minute, the least
circumstance, and then, if it be possible, to jot down my daily
impressions. Who knows what the future has in store for me? And who
knows but what, in my new position, I may finally discover the secret
of Roth's fulgurator? If I am to be delivered one day, this secret
must be made known, as well as who is the author, or who are the
authors, of this criminal outrage, which may be attended with such
serious consequences.
I continually revert to this question, hoping that some incident will
occur to enlighten me:
Where am I?
Let me begin from the beginning.
After having been carried by the head and feet from Healthful House,
I felt that I was laid, without any brutality, I must admit, upon the
stretchers of a row-boat of small dimensions.
The rocking caused by the weight of my body was succeeded shortly
afterwards by a further rocking--which I attribute to the embarking of
a second person. Can there be room for doubt that it was Thomas
Roch? As far as he was concerned they would not have had to take the
precaution of gagging him, or of bandaging his eyes, or of binding
him. He must still have been in a state of prostration which precluded
the possibility of his making any resistance, or even of being
conscious of what was being done. The proof that I am not deceiving
myself is that I could smell the unmistakable odor of ether. Now,
yesterday, before taking leave of us, the doctor administered a few
drops of ether to the invalid and--I remember distinctly--a little of
this extremely volatile substance fell upon his clothing while he was
struggling in his fit. There is therefore nothing astonishing in the
fact that this odor should have clung to him, nor that I should have
distinguished it, even beneath the bandages that covered my face.
Yes, Thomas Roch was extended near me in the boat. And to think that
had I not returned to the pavilion when I did, had I delayed a few
minutes longer, I should have found him gone!
Let me think. What could have inspired that Count d'Artigas with the
unfortunate curiosity to visit Healthful House? If he had not been
allowed to see my patient nothing of the kind would have happened.
Talking to Thomas Roch about his inventions brought on a fit of
exceptional violence. The director is primarily to blame for not
heeding my warning. Had he listened to me the doctor would not have
been called upon to attend him, the door of the pavilion would have
been locked, and the attempt of the band would have been frustrated.
As to the interest there could have been in carrying off Thomas Roch,
either on behalf of a private person or of one of the states of the
Old World, it is so evident that there is no need to dwell upon it.
However, I can be perfectly easy about the result. No one can possibly
succeed in learning what for fifteen months I have been unable to
ascertain. In the condition of intellectual collapse into which my
fellow-countryman has fallen, all attempts to force his secret from
him will be futile. Moreover, he is bound to go from bad to worse
until he is hopelessly insane, even as regards those points upon which
he has hitherto preserved his reason intact.
After all, however, it is less about Thomas Roch than myself that I
must think just now, and this is what I have experienced, to resume
the thread of my adventure where I dropped it:
After more rocking caused by our captors jumping into it, the boat
is rowed off. The distance must be very short, for a minute after we
bumped against something. I surmise that this something must be
the hull of a ship, and that we have run alongside. There is some
scurrying and excitement. Indistinctly through my bandages I can hear
orders being given and a confused murmur of voices that lasts for
about five minutes, but I cannot distinguish a word that is said.
The only thought that occurs to me now is that they will hoist me on
board and lower me to the bottom of the hold and keep me there till
the vessel is far out at sea. Obviously they will not allow either
Thomas Roch or his keeper to appear on deck as long as she remains in
Pamlico Sound.
My conjecture is correct. Still gagged and bound I am at last lifted
by the legs and shoulders. My impression, however, is that I am not
being raised over a ship's bulwark, but on the contrary am being
lowered. Are they going to drop me overboard to drown like a rat, so
as to get rid of a dangerous witness? This thought flashes into my
brain, and a quiver of anguish passes through my body from head to
foot. Instinctively I draw a long breath, and my lungs are filled with
the precious air they will speedily lack.
No, there is no immediate cause for alarm. I am laid with comparative
gentleness upon a hard floor, which gives me the sensation of metallic
coldness. I am lying at full length. To my extreme surprise, I find
that the ropes with which I was bound have been untied and loosened.
The tramping about around me has ceased. The next instant I hear a
door closed with a bang.
Where am I? And, in the first place, am I alone? I tear the gag from
my mouth, and the bandages from my head.
It is dark--pitch dark. Not a ray of light, not even the vague
perception of light that the eyes preserve when the lids are tightly
closed.
I shout--I shout repeatedly. No response. My voice is smothered. The
air I breathe is hot, heavy, thick, and the working of my lungs will
become difficult, impossible, unless the store of air is renewed.
I extend my arms and feel about me, and this is what I conclude:
I am in a compartment with sheet-iron walls, which cannot measure more
than four cubic yards. I can feel that the walls are of bolted plates,
like the sides of a ship's water-tight compartment.
I can feel that the entrance to it is by a door on one side, for the
hinges protrude somewhat. This door must open inwards, and it is
through here, no doubt, that I was carried in.
I place my ear to the door, but not a sound can be heard. The silence
is as profound as the obscurity--a strange silence that is only broken
by the sonorousness of the metallic floor when I move about. None of
the dull noises usually to be heard on board a ship is perceptible,
not even the rippling of the water along the hull. Nor is there the
slightest movement to be felt; yet, in the estuary of the Neuse, the
current is always strong enough, to cause a marked oscillation to any
vessel.
But does the compartment in which I am confined, really belong to
a ship? How do I know that I am afloat on the Neuse, though I was
conveyed a short distance in a boat? Might not the latter, instead of
heading for a ship in waiting for it, opposite Healthful House, have
been rowed to a point further down the river? In this case is it not
possible that I was carried into the cellar of a house? This would
explain the complete immobility of the compartment. It is true that
the walls are of bolted plates, and that there is a vague smell of
salt water, that odor -sui generis- which generally pervades the
interior of a ship, and which there is no mistaking.
An interval, which I estimate at about four hours, must have passed
since my incarceration. It must therefore be near midnight. Shall I be
left here in this way till morning? Luckily, I dined at six o'clock,
which is the regular dinner-hour at Healthful House. I am not
suffering from hunger. In fact I feel more inclined to sleep than
to eat. Still, I hope I shall have energy enough to resist the
inclination. I will not give way to it. I must try and find out what
is going on outside. But neither sound nor light can penetrate this
iron box. Wait a minute, though; perhaps by listening intently I may
hear some sound, however feeble. Therefore I concentrate all my vital
power in my sense of hearing. Moreover, I try--in case I should
really not be on -terra firma---to distinguish some movement, some
oscillation of my prison. Admitting that the ship is still at anchor,
it cannot be long before it will start--otherwise I shall have to give
up imagining why Thomas Roch and I have been carried off.
At last--it is no illusion--a slight rolling proves to me, beyond a
doubt, that I am not on land. We are evidently moving, but the motion
is scarcely perceptible. It is not a jerky, but rather a gliding
movement, as though we were skimming through the water without effort,
on an even keel.
Let me consider the matter calmly. I am on board a vessel that was
anchored in the Neuse, waiting under sail or steam, for the result of
the expedition. A boat brought me aboard, but, I repeat, I did not
feel that I was lifted over her bulwarks. Was I passed through a
porthole? But after all, what does it matter? Whether I was lowered
into the hold or not, I am certainly upon something that is floating
and moving.
No doubt I shall soon be let out, together with Thomas Roch, supposing
them to have locked him up as carefully as they have me. By being let
out, I mean being accorded permission to go on deck. It will not be
for some hours to come, however, that is certain, for they won't want
us to be seen, so that there is no chance of getting a whiff of fresh
air till we are well out at sea. If it is a sailing vessel, she must
have waited for a breeze--for the breeze that freshens off shore at
daybreak, and is favorable to ships navigating Pamlico Sound.
It certainly cannot be a steamer. I could not have failed to smell the
oil and other odors of the engine-room. And then I should feel
the trembling of the machinery, the jerks of the pistons, and the
movements of the screws or paddles.
The best thing to do is to wait patiently. I shan't be taken out of
this hole until to-morrow, anyway. Moreover, if I am not released,
somebody will surely bring me something to eat. There is no reason to
suppose that they intend to starve me to death. They wouldn't have
taken the trouble to bring me aboard, but would have dropped me to the
bottom of the river had they been desirous of getting rid of me. Once
we are out at sea, what will they have to fear from me? No one could
hear my shouts. As to demanding an explanation and making a fuss, it
would be useless. Besides, what am I to the men who have carried us
off? A mere hospital attendant--one Gaydon, who is of no consequence.
It is Thomas Roch they were after. I was taken along too because I
happened to return to the pavilion at the critical moment.
At any rate, no matter what happens, no matter who our kidnappers may
be, no matter where we are taken, I shall stick to this resolution: I
will continue to play my role of warder. No one, no! none, can suspect
that Gaydon is Simon Hart, the engineer. There are two advantages in
this: in the first place, they will take no notice of a poor devil
of a warder, and in the second, I may be able to solve the mystery
surrounding this plot and turn my knowledge to profit, if I succeed in
making my escape.
But whither are my thoughts wandering? I must perforce wait till we
arrive at our destination before thinking of escaping. It will be time
enough to bother about that when the occasion presents itself. Until
then the essential is that they remain ignorant as to my identity, and
they cannot, and shall not, know who I am.
I am now certain that we are going through the water. But there is one
thing that puzzles me. It is not a sailing vessel, neither can it be a
steamer. Yet it is incontestably propelled by some powerful machine.
There are none of the noises, nor is there the trembling that
accompanies the working of steam engines. The movement of the vessel
is more continuous and regular, it is a sort of direct rotation that
is communicated by the motor, whatever the latter may be. No mistake
is possible: the ship is propelled by some special mechanism. But what
is it?
Is it one of those turbines that have been spoken of lately, which,
fitted into a submerged tube, are destined to replace the ordinary
screw, it being claimed that they utilize the resistance of the water
better than the latter and give increased speed to a ship?
In a few hours' time I shall doubtless know all about this means of
locomotion.
Meanwhile there is another thing that equally puzzles me. There is not
the slightest rolling or pitching. How is it that Pamlico Sound is so
extraordinarily calm? The varying currents continuously ruffle the
surface of the Sound, even if nothing else does.
It is true the tide may be out, and I remember that last night
the wind had fallen altogether. Still, no matter, the thing is
inexplicable, for a ship propelled by machinery, no matter at what
speed she may be going, always oscillates more or less, and I cannot
perceive the slightest rocking.
Such are the thoughts with which my mind is persistently filled.
Despite an almost overpowering desire to sleep, despite the torpor
that is coming upon me in this suffocating atmosphere, I am resolved
not to close my eyes. I will keep awake till daylight, and there will
be no daylight for me till it is let into my prison from the outside.
Perhaps even if the door were open it would not penetrate to this
black hole, and I shall probably not see it again until I am taken on
deck.
I am squatting in a corner of my prison, for I have no stool or
anything to sit upon, but as my eyelids are heavy and I feel somnolent
in spite of myself, I get up and walk about. Then I wax wrathful,
anger fills my soul, I beat upon the iron walls with my fists, and
shout for help. In vain! I hurt my hands against the bolts of the
plates, and no one answers my cries.
Such conduct is unworthy of me. I flattered myself that I would remain
calm under all circumstances and here I am acting like a child.
The absence of any rolling or lurching movement at least proves that
we are not yet at sea. Instead of crossing Pamlico Sound, may we not
be going in the opposite direction, up the River Neuse? No! What would
they go further inland for? If Thomas Roch has been carried off from
Healthful House, his captors obviously mean to take him out of the
United States--probably to a distant island in the Atlantic, or to
some point on the European continent. It is, therefore, not up the
Neuse that our maritime machine, whatever it may be, is going, but
across Pamlico Sound, which must be as calm as a mirror.
Very well, then, when we get to sea I shall soon, know, for the vessel
will rock right enough in the swell off shore, even though there be
no wind,--unless I am aboard a battleship, or big cruiser, and this I
fancy can hardly be!
But hark! If I mistake not--no, it was not imagination--I hear
footsteps. Some one is approaching the side of the compartment where
the door is. One of the crew no doubt. Are they going to let me out at
last? I can now hear voices. A conversation is going on outside the
door, but it is carried on in a language that I do not understand. I
shout to them--I shout again, but no answer is vouchsafed.
There is nothing to do, then, but wait, wait, wait! I keep repeating
the word and it rings in my ears like a bell.
Let me try to calculate how long I have been here. The ship must have
been under way for at least four or five hours. I reckon it must be
past midnight, but I cannot tell, for unfortunately my watch is of no
use to me in this Cimmerian darkness.
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548
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