The manner of employing Roch’s fulgurator is, I believe, very simple indeed. The projectile2 in which it is used requires neither gun nor mortar3 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 invincible4.
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 perfectly5 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 detonations7.
“Has Back Cup been attacked?” was my first thought. “Has the schooner8 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 intervals9, 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 tug10 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 vessel11. 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 moored12 near the jetty. Thomas Roch is going to his laboratory, and Ker Karraje and Engineer Serko are tranquilly14 pacing backwards15 and forwards by the lake and chatting. The island therefore could not have been attacked during the night. Yet I was awakened16 by the report of cannon17, this I will swear.
At this moment Ker Karraje goes off towards his abode18 and Engineer Serko, smilingly ironical19, as usual, advances to meet me.
“Well, Mr. Simon Hart,” he says, “are you getting accustomed to your tranquil13 existence? Do you appreciate at their just merit the advantages of this enchanted20 grotto21? 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 delirium22, 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 plunge23 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 incited24 him to select such a mysterious retreat as this cavern25, 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 accomplices26, 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 Jersey27 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 whim28 of having me for a companion will cost you dear, some day or other,” I say to myself.
Then, abruptly29, 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 combustion30! Here we have an invention that will bring about a radical31 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 vengeance32!”
“Vengeance?—against whom?”
“Against all those who have made themselves his enemies by discouraging him, by spurning33 him, expelling him, by constraining34 him to go a-begging from country to country with an invention of incontestable superiority! Now all notion of patriotism35 is extinct in his soul. He has now but one thought, one ferocious36 desire: to avenge37 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 analogous38 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 situated39.
Luckily Engineer Serko has not remarked my reticence40, 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 apprehended41, 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
Join or Log In!
You need to log in to continue reading