Face au drapeau. English

by Jules Verne

  CHAPTER X.

  KER KARRAJE.

  The cell in which I reside is about a hundred paces from thehabitation of the Count d'Artigas, which is one of the end ones ofthis row of the Beehive. If I am not to share it with Thomas Roch, Ipresume the latter's cell is not far off, for in order that WarderGaydon may continue to care for the ex-patient of Healthful House,their respective apartments will have to be contiguous. However, Isuppose I shall soon be enlightened on this point.

  Captain Spade and Engineer Serko reside separately in proximity toD'Artigas' mansion.

  Mansion? Yes, why not dignify it with the title since this habitationhas been arranged with a certain art? Skillful hands have carved anornamental facade in the rock. A large door affords access to it.Colored glass windows in wooden frames let into the limestonewalls admit the light. The interior comprises several chambers, adining-room and a drawing-room lighted by a stained-glass window, thewhole being perfectly ventilated. The furniture is of various stylesand shapes and of French, English and American make. The kitchen,larder, etc., are in adjoining cells in rear of the Beehive.

  In the afternoon, just as I issue from my cell with the firm intentionof "obtaining an audience" of the Count d'Artigas, I catch sight ofhim coming along the shore of the lagoon towards the hive. Either hedoes not see me, or wishes to avoid me, for he quickens his steps andI am unable to catch him.

  "Well, he will have to receive me, anyhow!" I mutter to myself.

  I hurry up to the door through which he has just disappeared and whichhas closed behind him.

  It is guarded by a gigantic, dark-skinned Malay, who orders me away inno amiable tone of voice.

  I decline to comply with his injunction, and repeat to him twice thefollowing request in my very best English:

  "Tell the Count d'Artigas that I desire to be received immediately."

  I might just as well have addressed myself to the surrounding rock.This savage, no doubt, does not understand a word of English, for hescowls at me and orders me away again with a menacing cry.

  I have a good mind to attempt to force the door and shout so that theCount d'Artigas cannot fail to hear me, but in all probability I shallonly succeed in rousing the wrath of the Malay, who appears to beendowed with herculean strength. I therefore judge discretion to bethe better part of valor, and put off the explanation that is owingto me--and which, sooner or later, I will have--to a more propitiousoccasion.

  I meander off in front of the Beehive towards the east, and mythoughts revert to Thomas Roch. I am surprised that I have not seenhim yet. Can he be in the throes of a fresh paroxysm?

  This hypothesis is hardly admissible, for if the Count d'Artigas is tobe believed, he would in this event have summoned me to attend to theinventor.

  A little farther on I encounter Engineer Serko.

  With his inviting manner and usual good-humor this ironical individualsmiles when he perceives me, and does not seek to avoid me. If heknew I was a colleague, an engineer--providing he himself really isone--perhaps he might receive me with more cordiality than I have yetencountered, but I am not going to be such a fool as to tell him whoand what I am.

  He stops, with laughing eyes and mocking mouth, and accompanies a"Good day, how do you do?" with a gracious gesture of salutation.

  I respond coldly to his politeness--a fact which he affects not tonotice.

  "May Saint Jonathan protect you, Mr. Gaydon!" he continues in hisclear, ringing voice. "You are not, I presume, disposed to regretthe fortunate circumstance by which you were permitted to visit thissurpassingly marvellous cavern--and it really is one of the finest,although the least known on this spheroid."

  This word of a scientific language used in conversation with a simplehospital attendant surprises me, I admit, and I merely reply:

  "I should have no reason to complain, Mr. Serko, if, after having hadthe pleasure of visiting this cavern, I were at liberty to quit it."

  "What! Already thinking of leaving us, Mr. Gaydon,--of returning toyour dismal pavilion at Healthful House? Why, you have scarcely hadtime to explore our magnificent domain, or to admire the incomparablebeauty with which nature has endowed it."

  "What I have seen suffices," I answer; "and should you perchance betalking seriously I will assure you seriously that I do not want tosee any more of it."

  "Come, now, Mr. Gaydon, permit me to point out that you have not yethad the opportunity of appreciating the advantages of an existencepassed in such unrivalled surroundings. It is a quiet life, exemptfrom care, with an assured future, material conditions such as are notto be met with anywhere, an even climate and no more to fear from thetempests which desolate the coasts in this part of the Atlantic thanfrom the cold of winter, or the heat of summer. This temperate andsalubrious atmosphere is scarcely affected by changes of season. Herewe have no need to apprehend the wrath of either Pluto or Neptune."

  "Sir," I reply, "it is impossible that this climate can suit you, thatyou can appreciate living in this grotto of----"

  I was on the point of pronouncing the name of Back Cup. Fortunately Irestrained myself in time. What would happen if they suspected thatI am aware of the name of their island, and, consequently, of itsposition at the extremity of the Bermuda group?

  "However," I continue, "if this climate does not suit me, I have, Ipresume, the right to make a change."

  "The right, of course."

  "I understand from your remark that I shall be furnished with themeans of returning to America when I want to go?"

  "I have no reason for opposing your desires, Mr. Gaydon," EngineerSerko replies, "and I regard your presumption as a very naturalone. Observe, however, that we live here in a noble and superbindependence, that we acknowledge the authority of no foreign power,that we are subject to no outside authority, that we are thecolonists of no state, either of the old or new world. This is worthconsideration by whomsoever has a sense of pride and independence.Besides, what memories are evoked in a cultivated mind by thesegrottoes which seem to have been chiselled by the hands of the godsand in which they were wont to render their oracles by the mouth ofTrophonius."

  Decidedly, Engineer Serko is fond of citing mythology! Trophoniusafter Pluto and Neptune? Does he imagine that Warder Gaydon ever heardof Trophonius? It is clear this mocker continues to mock, and I haveto exercise the greatest patience in order not to reply in the sametone.

  "A moment ago," I continue shortly, "I wanted to enter yon habitation,which, if I mistake not, is that of the Count d'Artigas, but I wasprevented."

  "By whom, Mr. Gaydon?"

  "By a man in the Count's employ."

  "He probably had received strict orders about it."

  "Possibly, yet whether he likes it or not, Count d'Artigas will haveto see me and listen to me."

  "Maybe it would be difficult, and even impossible to get him to doso," says Engineer Serko with a smile.

  "Why so?"

  "Because there is no such person as Count d'Artigas here."

  "You are jesting, I presume; I have just seen him."

  "It was not the Count d'Artigas whom you saw, Mr. Gaydon."

  "Who was it then, may I ask?"

  "The pirate Ker Karraje."

  This name was thrown at me in a hard tone of voice, and Engineer Serkowalked off before I had presence of mind enough to detain him.

  The pirate Ker Karraje!

  Yes, this name is a revelation to me. I know it well, and whatmemories it evokes! It by itself explains what has hitherto beeninexplicable to me. I now know into whose hands I have fallen.

  With what I already knew, with what I have learned since my arrival inBack Cup from Engineer Serko, this is what I am able to tell about thepast and present of Ker Karraje:

  Eight or nine years ago, the West Pacific was infested by pirateswho acted with the greatest audacity. A band of criminals of variousorigins, composed of escaped convicts, military and naval deserters,etc., operated with incredible audacity under the orders of aredoubtable chief. The nucleu
s of the band had been formed by menpertaining to the scum of Europe who had been attracted to New SouthWales, in Australia, by the discovery of gold there. Among thesegold-diggers, were Captain Spade and Engineer Serko, two outcasts,whom a certain community of ideas and character soon bound together inclose friendship.

  These intelligent, well educated, resolute men would most assuredlyhave succeeded in any career. But being without conscience orscruples, and determined to get rich at no matter what cost, derivingfrom gambling and speculation what they might have earned by patientand steady work, they engaged in all sorts of impossible adventures.One day they were rich, the next day poor, like most of thequestionable individuals who had hurried to the gold-fields in searchof fortune.

  Among the diggers in New South Wales was a man of incomparableaudacity, one of those men who stick at nothing--not even atcrime--and whose influence upon bad and violent natures isirresistible.

  That man's name was Ker Karraje.

  The origin or nationality or antecedents of this pirate were neverestablished by the investigations ordered in regard to him. He eludedall pursuit, and his name--or at least the name he gave himself--wasknown all over the world, and inspired horror and terror everywhere,as being that of a legendary personage, a bogey, invisible andunseizable.

  I have now reason to believe that Ker Karraje is a Malay. However, itis of little consequence, after all. What is certain is that he waswith reason regarded as a formidable and dangerous villain who hadmany crimes, committed in distant seas, to answer for.

  After spending a few years on the Australian goldfields, where he madethe acquaintance of Engineer Serko and Captain Spade, Ker Karrajemanaged to seize a ship in the port of Melbourne, in the provinceof Victoria. He was joined by about thirty rascals whose number wasspeedily tripled. In that part of the Pacific Ocean where piracy isstill carried on with great facility, and I may say, profit, thenumber of ships pillaged, crews massacred, and raids committed incertain western islands which the colonists were unable to defend,cannot be estimated.

  Although the whereabouts of Ker Karraje's vessel, commanded by CaptainSpade, was several times made known to the authorities, all attemptsto capture it proved futile. The marauder would disappear among theinnumerable islands of which he knew every cove and creek, and it wasimpossible to come across him.

  He maintained a perfect reign of terror. England, France, Germany,Russia and America vainly dispatched warships in pursuit of thephantom vessel which disappeared, no one knew whither, after robberiesand murders that could not be prevented or punished had been committedby her crew.

  One day this series of crimes came to an end, and no more was heard ofKer Karraje. Had he abandoned the Pacific for other seas? Would thispirate break out in a fresh place? It was argued that notwithstandingwhat they must have spent in orgies and debauchery the pirate and hiscompanions must still have an enormous amount of wealth hidden in someplace known only to themselves, and that they were enjoying theirill-gotten gains.

  Where had the band hidden themselves since they had ceased theirdepredations? This was a question which everybody asked and none wasable to answer. All attempts to run them to earth were vain. Terrorand uneasiness having ceased with the danger, Ker Karraje's exploitssoon began to be forgotten, even in the West Pacific.

  This is what had happened--and what will never be known unless Isucceed in escaping from Back Cup:

  These wretches were, as a matter of fact, possessed of great wealthwhen they abandoned the Southern Seas. Having destroyed their shipthey dispersed in different directions after having arranged to meeton the American continent.

  Engineer Serko, who was well versed in his profession, and was aclever mechanic to boot, and who had made a special study of submarinecraft, proposed to Ker Karraje that they should construct one ofthese boats in order to continue their criminal exploits with greatersecrecy and effectiveness.

  Ker Karraje at once saw the practical nature of the proposition, andas they had no lack of money the idea was soon carried out.

  While the so-called Count d'Artigas ordered the construction of theschooner _Ebba_ at the shipyards of Gotteborg, in Sweden, he gave tothe Cramps of Philadelphia, in America, the plans of a submarine boatwhose construction excited no suspicion. Besides, as will be seen, itsoon disappeared and was never heard of again.

  The boat was constructed from a model and under the personalsupervision of Engineer Serko, and fitted with all the knownappliances of nautical science. The screw was worked with electricpiles of recent invention which imparted enormous propulsive power tothe motor.

  It goes without saying that no one imagined that Count d'Artigas wasnone other than Ker Karraje, the former pirate of the Pacific, andthat Engineer Serko was the most formidable and resolute of hisaccomplices. The former was regarded as a foreigner of noble birth andgreat fortune, who for several months had been frequenting the portsof the United States, the _Ebba_ having been launched long before thetug was ready.

  Work upon the latter occupied fully eighteen months, and when the boatwas finished it excited the admiration of all those interested inthese engines of submarine navigation. By its external form, itsinterior arrangements, its air-supply system, the rapidity with whichit could be immersed, the facility with which it could be handled andcontrolled, and its extraordinary speed, it was conceded to be farsuperior to the _Goubet,_ the _Gymnote_, the _Zede_, and other similarboats which had made great strides towards perfection.

  After several extremely successful experiments a public test was givenin the open sea, four miles off Charleston, in presence of severalAmerican and foreign warships, merchant vessels, and pleasure boatsinvited for the occasion.

  Of course the _Ebba_ was among them, with the Count d'Artigas,Engineer Serko, and Captain Spade on board, and the old crew as well,save half a dozen men who manned the submarine machine, which wasworked by a mechanical engineer named Gibson, a bold and very cleverEnglishman.

  The programme of this definite experiment comprised various evolutionson the surface of the water, which were to be followed by an immersionto last several hours, the boat being ordered not to rise again untila certain buoy stationed many miles out at sea had been attained.

  At the appointed time the lid was closed and the boat at firstmanoeuvred on the surface. Her speed and the ease with whichshe turned and twisted were loudly praised by all the technicalspectators.

  Then at a signal given on board the _Ebba_ the tug sank slowly outof sight, and several vessels started for the buoy where she was toreappear.

  Three hours went by, but there was no sign of the boat.

  No one could suppose that in accordance with instructions receivedfrom the Count d'Artigas and Engineer Serko this submarine machine,which was destined to act as the invisible tug of the schooner, wouldnot emerge till it had gone several miles beyond the rendezvous.Therefore, with the exception of those who were in the secret, no oneentertained any doubt that the boat and all inside her had perishedas the result of an accident either to her metallic covering ormachinery.

  On board the _Ebba_ consternation was admirably simulated. On boardthe other vessels it was real. Drags were used and divers sent downalong the course the boat was supposed to have taken, but it couldnot be found, and it was agreed that it had been swallowed up in thedepths of the Atlantic.

  Two days later the Count d'Artigas put to sea again, and inforty-eight hours came up with the tug at the place appointed.

  This is how Ker Karraje became possessed of the admirable vesselwhich was to perform the double function of towing the schooner andattacking ships. With this terrible engine of destruction, whose veryexistence was ignored, the Count d'Artigas was able to recommence hiscareer of piracy with security and impunity.

  These details I have learned from Engineer Serko, who is very proud ofhis handiwork,--and also very positive that the prisoner of Back Cupwill never be able to disclose the secret.

  It will easily be realized how powerful was the offensive weaponKer Karraje
now possessed. During the night the tug would rush at amerchant vessel, and bore a hole in her with its powerful ram. Atthe same time the schooner which could not possibly have excited anysuspicion, would run alongside and her horde of cutthroats would pouron to the doomed vessel's deck and massacre the helpless crew, afterwhich they would hurriedly transfer that part of the cargo that wasworth taking to the _Ebba_. Thus it happened that ship after shipwas added to the long list of those that never reached port and wereclassed as having gone down with all on board.

  For a year after the odious comedy in the bay of Charleston KerKarraje operated in the Atlantic, and his wealth increased to enormousproportions. The merchandise for which he had no use was disposed ofin distant markets in exchange for gold and silver. But what was sadlyneeded was a place where the profits could be safely hidden pendingthe time when they were to be finally divided.

  Chance came to their aid. While exploring the bottom of the sea inthe neighborhood of the Bermudas, Engineer Serko and Driver Gibsondiscovered at the base of Back Cup island the tunnel which led to theinterior of the mountain. Would it have been possible for Ker Karrajeto have found a more admirable refuge than this, absolutely safe as itwas from any possible chance of discovery? Thus it came to pass thatone of the islands of the Archipelago of Bermuda, erstwhile the hauntof buccaneers, became the lair of another gang a good deal more to bedreaded.

  This retreat having been definitely adopted, Count d'Artigas and hiscompanions set about getting their place in order. Engineer Serkoinstalled an electric power house, without having recourse to machineswhose construction abroad might have aroused suspicion, simplyemploying piles that could be easily mounted and required but metalplates and chemical substances that the _Ebba_ procured during hervisits 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 atbreak of day it was because she had been scuttled by the tug, boardedby the cut-throat band on the _Ebba_, and sunk with all on board afterbeing pillaged. The bales and things that I had seen on the schoonerwere a part of her cargo, and all unknown to me the gallant ship waslying at the bottom of the broad Atlantic!

  How will this adventure end? Shall I ever be able to escape fromBack Cup, denounce the false Count d'Artigas and rid the seas of KerKarraje's pirates?

  And if Ker Karraje is terrible as it is, how much more so will hebecome if he ever obtains possession of Roch's fulgurator! His powerwill be increased a hundred-fold! If he were able to employ this newengine of destruction no merchantman could resist him, no warshipescape total destruction.

  I remain for some time absorbed and oppressed by the reflections withwhich the revelation of Ker Karraje's name inspires me. All that Ihave ever heard about this famous pirate recurs to me--his existencewhen he skimmed the Southern Seas, the useless expeditions organizedby the maritime powers to hunt him down. The unaccountable loss of somany vessels in the Atlantic during the past few years is attributableto him. He had merely changed the scene of his exploits. It wassupposed that he had been got rid of, whereas he is continuing hispiratical practices in the most frequented ocean on the globe, bymeans of the tug which is believed to be lying at the bottom ofCharleston Bay.

  "Now," I say to myself, "I know his real name and that of hislair--Ker Karraje and Back Cup;" and I surmise that if Engineer Serkohas let me into the secret he must have been authorized to do so. Am Inot meant to understand from this that I must give up all hope of everrecovering my liberty?

  Engineer Serko had manifestly remarked the impression created upon meby this revelation. I remember that on leaving me he went towards KerKarraje's habitation, no doubt with the intention of apprising him ofwhat had passed.

  After a rather long walk around the lagoon I am about to return to mycell, when I hear footsteps behind me. I turn and find myself face toface with the Count d'Artigas, who is accompanied by Captain Spade.He glances at me sharply, and in a burst of irritation that I cannotsuppress, I exclaim:

  "You are keeping me here, sir, against all right. If it was to waitupon Thomas Roch that you carried me off from Healthful House, Irefuse 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--answerme, Ker Karraje!" I shout.

  "The Count d'Artigas is Ker Karraje," he coolly replies, "just asWarder Gaydon is Engineer Simon Hart; and Ker Karraje will neverrestore to liberty Engineer Simon Hart, who knows his secrets."