Face au drapeau. English

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Face au drapeau. English Page 12

by Jules Verne


  CHAPTER XII.

  ENGINEER SERKO'S ADVICE.

  Thomas Roch has started work and spends hours and hours in a woodenshed on the left bank of the lagoon that has been set apart as hislaboratory and workshop. No one enters it except himself. Does heinsist upon preparing the explosive in secret and does he intend tokeep the formula thereof to himself? I should not wonder.

  The manner of employing Roch's fulgurator is, I believe, very simpleindeed. The projectile in which it is used requires neither gun normortar to launch it, nor pneumatic tube like the Zalinski shell. It isautopropulsive, it projects itself, and no ship within a certain zonewhen the engine explodes could escape utter destruction. With such aweapon as this at his command Ker Karraje would be invincible.

  _From August 11 to August 17_.--During the past week Thomas Roch hasbeen working without intermission. Every morning the inventor goes tohis laboratory and does not issue therefrom till night. I have made noattempt to stop him or speak to him, knowing that it would be uselessto do so.

  Although he is still indifferent to everything that does not touchupon his work he appears to be perfectly self-possessed. Why should henot have recovered his reason? Has he not obtained what he has so longsought for? Is he not at last able to carry out the plans he formedyears and years ago?

  _August 18_.--At one o'clock this morning I was roused by severaldetonations.

  "Has Back Cup been attacked?" was my first thought. "Has the schoonerexcited suspicion, and been chased to the entrance to the passes? Isthe island being bombarded with a view to its destruction? Has justiceat last overtaken these evil-doers ere Thomas Roch has been ableto complete the manufacture of his explosive, and before theautopropulsive engine could be fetched from the continent?"

  The detonations, which are very violent, continue, succeeding eachother at regular intervals, and it occurs to me that if the schoonerhas been destroyed, all communication with the bases of supply beingimpossible, Back Cup cannot be provisioned.

  It is true the tug would be able to land the Count d'Artigas somewhereon the American coast where, money being no object, he could easilybuy or order another vessel. But no matter. If Back Cup is onlydestroyed before Ker Karraje has Roch's fulgurator at his disposal Ishall render thanks to heaven.

  A few hours later, at the usual time, I quit my cell. All is quiet atthe Beehive. The men are going about their business as usual. The tugis moored near the jetty. Thomas Roch is going to his laboratory, andKer Karraje and Engineer Serko are tranquilly pacing backwards andforwards by the lake and chatting. The island therefore could not havebeen attacked during the night. Yet I was awakened by the report ofcannon, this I will swear.

  At this moment Ker Karraje goes off towards his abode and EngineerSerko, smilingly ironical, as usual, advances to meet me.

  "Well, Mr. Simon Hart," he says, "are you getting accustomed toyour tranquil existence? Do you appreciate at their just merit theadvantages of this enchanted grotto? Have you given up all hope ofrecovering 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 bereleased."

  "What! Mr. Hart, separate ourselves from a man whom we all esteem--andI from a colleague who perhaps, in the course of Thomas Roch's fits ofdelirium, has learned some of his secrets? You are not serious!"

  So this is why they are keeping me a prisoner in Back Cup! Theysuppose that I am in part familiar with Roch's invention, and theyhope to force me to tell what I know if Thomas Roch refuses to give uphis secret. This is the reason why I was kidnapped with him, and whyI have not been accommodated with an involuntary plunge in the lagoonwith a stone fastened to my neck. I see it all now, and it is just aswell to know it.

  "Very serious," I affirm, in response to the last remark of myinterlocutor.

  "Well," he continues, "if I had the honor to be Simon Hart, theengineer, I should reason as follows: 'Given, on the one hand, thepersonality of Ker Karraje, the reasons which incited him to selectsuch a mysterious retreat as this cavern, the necessity of the saidcavern being kept from any attempt to discover it, not only in theinterest 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 thefact that I know the real name of the Count d'Artigas and in whatmysterious safe he keeps his riches--'"

  "Riches stolen, and stained with blood, Mr. Serko."

  "'Riches stolen and stained with blood,' if you like--'I oughtto understand that this question of liberty cannot be settled inaccordance with my desires.'"

  It is useless to argue the point under these conditions, and I switchthe conversation on to another line.

  "May I ask," I continue, "how you came to find out that Gaydon, thewarder, was Simon Hart, the engineer?"

  "I see no reason for keeping you in ignorance on the subject, my dearcolleague. It was largely by hazard. We had certain relations with themanufactory in New Jersey with which you were connected, and which youquitted suddenly one day under somewhat singular circumstances. Well,during a visit I made to Healthful House some months before the Countd'Artigas went there, I saw and recognized you."

  "You?"

  "My very self, and from that moment I promised myself the pleasure ofhaving you for a fellow-passenger on board the _Ebba_."

  I do not recall ever having seen this Serko at Healthful House, butwhat 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 todisclose the secret of his fulgurator?"

  "Yes, Mr. Hart. We paid millions for it. But millions, you know, arenothing to us. We have only the trouble of taking them! Therefore wefilled all his pockets--covered him with millions!"

  "Of what use are these millions to him if he is not allowed to enjoythem 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 thepresent. While engines are being constructed from his plans overyonder in America, he is preparing his explosive with chemicalsubstances with which he has been abundantly supplied. He! he! What aninvention it is, this autopropulsive engine, which flies throughthe air of its own power and accelerates its speed till the goal isreached, thanks to the properties of a certain powder of progressivecombustion! Here we have an invention that will bring about a radicalchange 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 tovibrate 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 bydiscouraging him, by spurning him, expelling him, by constraininghim to go a-begging from country to country with an invention ofincontestable superiority! Now all notion of patriotism is extinct inhis soul. He has now but one thought, one ferocious desire: to avengehimself upon those who have denied him--and even upon all mankind!Really, Mr. Hart, your governments of Europe and America committed astupendous blunder in refusing to pay Roch the price his fulgurator isworth!"

  And Engineer Serko describes enthusiastically the various advantagesof the new explosive which, he says, is incontestably superior to anyyet invented.

  "And what a destructive effect it has," he adds. "It is analogous tothat of the Zalinski shell, but is a hundred times more powerful, andrequires no machine for f
iring it, as it flies through the air on itsown wings, so to speak."

  I listen in the hope that Engineer Serko will give away a part of thesecret, 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 ofhis explosive?"

  "Yes, Mr. Hart--if it is all the same to you--and we shall shortlyhave considerable quantities of it stored in a safe place."

  "But will there not be a great and ever-impending danger inaccumulating large quantities of it? If an accident were to happen itwould 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 inaddition to being acquainted with the Count d'Artigas' real name Ialso 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 notburn unless subjected to a special deflagrator. Neither fire nor shockwill 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 isconcluded. Therefore, I repeat, no danger is to be apprehended, andyou 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! Afew more years of good business and we shall divide the profits, whichwill be large enough to enable each one of us to live as he thinksproper and enjoy life to the top of his bent--after the dissolutionof the firm of Ker Karraje and Co. I may add that though there isno danger of an explosion, we have everything to fear from adenunciation--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 bedone with you!"

  It will be admitted that these words are not exactly calculated toreassure me. However, a lot of things may happen ere then. I havelearned one good thing from this conversation, and that is that ifThomas Roch has sold his explosive to Ker Karraje and Co., he hasat any rate, kept the secret of his deflagrator, without which theexplosive is of no more value than the dust of the highway.

  But before terminating the interview I think I ought to make a verynatural observation to Mr. Serko.

  "Sir," I say, "you are now acquainted with the composition of ThomasRoch's explosive. Does it really possess the destructive power thatthe inventor attributes to it? Has it ever been tried? May you nothave 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 inour affairs, and am able to reassure you. The other night we madea series of decisive experiments. With only a few grains of thissubstance 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 youthat our expectations have been answered. The effects of the explosivesurpass anything that could have been imagined. A few thousand tons ofit would burst our spheroid and scatter the fragments into space. Youcan be absolutely certain that it is capable of destroying no matterwhat vessel at a distance considerably greater than that attained bypresent projectiles and within a zone of at least a mile. The weakpoint in the invention is that rather too much time has to be expendedin regulating the firing."

  Engineer Serko stops short, as though reluctant to give any furtherinformation, but finally adds:

  "Therefore, I end as I began, Mr. Hart. Resign yourself to theinevitable. Accept your new existence without reserve. Give yourselfup to the tranquil delights of this subterranean life. If one is ingood health, one preserves it; if one has lost one's health, onerecovers 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 mewith a friendly gesture, like a man whose good intentions meritappreciation. But what irony there is in his words, in his glance, inhis 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 ofRoch's auto-propulsive engine. It is probable that it always bursts atthe same distance, and that beyond the zone in which the effects ofthe fulgurator are so terrible, and once it has been passed, a ship issafe from its effects. If I could only inform the world of this vitalfact!

  _August 20_.--For two days no incident worth recording has occurred. Ihave explored Back Cup to its extreme limits. At night when the longperspective of arched columns are illuminated by the electric lamps, Iam almost religiously impressed when I gaze upon the natural wondersof this cavern, which has become my prison. I have never given up hopeof finding somewhere in the walls a fissure of some kind of which thepirates are ignorant and through which I could make my escape. It istrue that once outside I should have to wait till a passing ship hovein sight. My evasion would speedily be known at the Beehive, and Ishould soon be recaptured, unless--a happy thought strikes me--unlessI could get at the _Ebba's_ boat that was drawn up high and dry on thelittle sandy beach in the creek. In this I might be able to make myway to St. George or Hamilton.

  This evening--it was about nine o'clock--I stretched myself on a bedof sand at the foot of one of the columns, about one hundred yards tothe east of the lagoon. Shortly afterwards I heard footsteps, thenvoices. Hiding myself as best I could behind the rocky base of thepillar, 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 theirconversation in English--which is the language generally used in BackCup. 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 inthat Virginian foundry."

  "And when they are here," observed Engineer Serko, "I will piece themtogether and fix up the frames for firing them. But beforehand, thereis 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 timecould squeeze, a hole easy enough to block, and the outside end ofwhich 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 ofgetting out besides the submarine tunnel. We never know what thefuture 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 therock to such fine powder that we shall be able to blow it away withour breath," Serko replied.

  It can easily be imagined with what interest and eagerness I listenedto this. Here was a ray of hope. It. was proposed to open upcommunication with the outside by a tunnel in the wall, and this heldout 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 BackCup and prevent any ship from approaching it----. It is true," he wenton, without finishing the reflection, "our retreat would have to havebeen 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 canescape from Back Cup. I am, by the bye, interested in this Hart. He isa colleague, after all, and I have always suspected that he kn
ows moreabout Roch's invention than he pretends. I will get round him so thatwe shall soon be discussing physics, mechanics, and matters ballisticlike a couple of friends."

  "No matter," replied the generous and sensible Count d'Artigas, "whenwe are in full possession of the secret we had better get rid of thefellow."

  "We have plenty of time to do that, Ker Karraje."

  "If God permits you to, you wretches," I muttered to myself, while myheart thumped against my ribs.

  And yet, without the intervention of Providence, what hope is therefor me?

  The conversation then took another direction.

  "Now that we know the composition of the explosive, Serko," said KerKarraje, "we must, at all cost, get that of the deflagrator fromThomas Roch."

  "Yes," replied Engineer Serko, "that is what I am trying to do.Unfortunately, however, Roch positively refuses to discuss it. Stillhe has already made a few drops of it with which those experimentswere made, and he will furnish as with some more to blow a holethrough the wall."

  "But what about our expeditions at sea?" queried Ker Karraje.

  "Patience! We shall end by getting Roch's thunderbolts entirely in ourown 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 withouthaving seen me--very luckily for me, I guess. If Engineer Serko spokeup somewhat in defence of a colleague, Ker Karraje is apparentlyanimated with much less benevolent sentiments in regard to me. On theleast suspicion they would throw me into the lake, and if I ever gotthrough the tunnel, it would only be as a corpse carried out by theebbing tide.

  _August 21_.--Engineer Serko has been prospecting with a view topiercing the proposed passage through the wall, in such a way that itsexistence will never be dreamed of outside. After a minute examinationhe decided to tunnel through the northern end of the cavern aboutsixty feet from the first cells of the Beehive.

  I am anxious for the passage to be made, for who knows but what it maybe the way to freedom for me? Ah! if I only knew how to swim, perhapsI should have attempted to escape through the submarine tunnel, assince it was disclosed by the lashing back of the waters by the whalein 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 mustbe partly uncovered. At the full and new moon, when the sea attainsits maximum depression below the normal level, it is possible that--Imust satisfy myself about this.

  I do not know how the fact will help me in any way, even if theentrance to the tunnel is partly uncovered, but I cannot afford tomiss 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 fetchthe sections of Thomas Roch's engines. Before embarking, the Countconverses long and earnestly with Engineer Serko, who, apparently, isnot going to accompany him on this trip, and is evidently giving himsome recommendations, of which I may be the object. Then, havingstepped 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. Iconclude that it has gone to tow the schooner, and perhaps to destroyany merchant vessels that may come in their way.

  It cannot, however, be absent very long, as the trip to America andback will not take more than a week.

  Besides, if I can judge from the calm atmosphere in the interior ofthe cavern, the _Ebba_ must be favored with beautiful weather. Thisis, in fact, the fine season in this part of the world. Ah! if only Icould break out of my prison!

 

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