by Jules Verne
CHAPTER XIII.
GOD BE WITH IT.
_From August 29 to September 10_.--Thirteen days have gone by andthe _Ebba_ has not returned. Did she then not make straight for theAmerican coast? Has she been delayed by a buccaneering cruise in theneighborhood of Back Cup? It seems to me that Ker Karraje's onlydesire would be to get back with the sections of Roch's engines assoon as possible. Maybe the Virginian foundry had not quite finishedthem.
Engineer Serko does not display the least anxiety or impatience. Hecontinues to greet me with his accustomed ironical cordiality, andwith a kindly air that I distrust--with good reason. He affects to besolicitous as to my health, urges me to make the best of a bad job,calls me Ali Baba, assures me that there is not, in the whole world,such an enchanting spot as this Arabian Nights cavern, observes that Iam fed, warmed, lodged, and clothed, that I have no taxes to pay, andthat even the inhabitants of the favored principality of Monaco do notenjoy an existence more free from care.
Sometimes this ironical verbiage brings the blood to my face, and Iam tempted to seize this cynical banterer by the throat and choke thelife out of him. They would kill me afterwards. Still, what would thatmatter! Would it not be better to end in this way than to spend yearsand years amid these infernal and infamous surroundings? However,while there is life there is hope, I reflect, and this thoughtrestrains me.
I have scarcely set eyes upon Thomas Roch since the _Ebba_ went away.He shuts himself up in his laboratory and works unceasingly. If heutilizes all the substances placed at his disposition there will beenough to blow up Back Cup and the whole Bermudan archipelago with it!
I cling to the hope that he will never consent to give up the secretof his deflagrator, and that Engineer Serko's efforts to acquire itwill remain futile.
_September 3_.--To-day I have been able to witness with my own eyesthe power of Roch's explosive, and also the manner in which thefulgurator is employed.
During the morning the men began to pierce the passage through thewall of the cavern at the spot fixed upon by Engineer Serko, whosuperintended the work in person. The work began at the base, wherethe rock is as hard as granite. To have continued it with pickaxeswould have entailed long and arduous labor, inasmuch as the wall atthis place is not less than from twenty to thirty yards in thickness,but thanks to Roch's fulgurator the passage will be completed easilyand rapidly.
I may well be astonished at what I have seen. The pickaxes hardly madeany impression on the rock, but its disaggregation was effected withreally remarkable facility by means of the fulgurator.
A few grains of this explosive shattered the rocky mass and reduced itto almost impalpable powder that one's breath could disperse as easilyas vapor. The explosion produced an excavation measuring fully a cubicyard. It was accompanied by a sharp detonation that may be compared tothe report of a cannon.
The first charge used, although a very small one, a mere pinch, blewthe men in every direction, and two of them were seriously injured.Engineer Serko himself was projected several yards, and sustained somerather severe contusions.
Here is how this substance, whose bursting force surpasses anythinghitherto conceived, is employed.
A small hole about an inch and a half in length is pierced obliquelyin the rock. A few grains of the explosive are then inserted, but nowad is used.
Then Thomas Roch steps forward. In his hand is a little glass phialcontaining a bluish, oily liquid that congeals almost as soon as itcomes in contact with the air. He pours one drop on the entrance ofthe hole, and draws back, but not with undue haste. It takes a certaintime--about thirty-five seconds, I reckon--before the combination ofthe fulgurator and deflagrator is effected. But when the explosiondoes take place its power of disaggregation is such--I repeat--thatit may be regarded as unlimited. It is at any rate a thousand timessuperior to that of any known explosive.
Under these circumstances it will probably not take more than a weekto complete the tunnel.
_September 19_.--For some time past I have observed that the tiderises and falls twice every twenty-four hours, and that the ebb andflow produce a rather swift current through the submarine tunnel. Itis pretty certain therefore that a floating object thrown into thelagoon when the top of the orifice is uncovered would be carried outby the receding tide. It is just possible that during the lowestequinoctial tides the top of the orifice is uncovered. This I shall beable to ascertain, as this is precisely the time they occur. To-day,September 19, I could almost distinguish the summit of the hole underthe water. The day after to-morrow, if ever, it will be uncovered.
Very well then, if I cannot myself attempt to get through, may be abottle thrown into the lagoon might be carried out during the lastfew minutes of the ebb. And might not this bottle by chance--anultra-providential chance, I must avow--be picked up by a ship passingnear Back Cup? Perhaps even it might be borne away by a friendlycurrent and cast upon one of the Bermudan beaches. What if that bottlecontained a letter?
I cannot get this thought out of my mind, and it works me up into agreat state of excitement. Then objections crop up--this one amongothers: the bottle might be swept against the rocks and smashed ereever it could get out of the tunnel. Very true, but what if, insteadof a bottle a diminutive, tightly closed keg were used? It would notrun any danger of being smashed and would besides stand a much betterchance of reaching the open sea.
_September 20_.--This evening, I, unperceived, entered one of thestore houses containing the booty pillaged from various ships andprocured a keg very suitable for my experiment.
I hid the keg under my coat, and returned to the Beehive and my cell.Then without losing an instant I set to work. Paper, pen, ink, nothingwas wanting, as will be supposed from the fact that for three months Ihave been making notes and dotting down my impressions daily.
I indite the following message:
"On June 15 last Thomas Roch and his keeper Gaydon, or rather SimonHart, the French engineer who occupied Pavilion No. 17, at HealthfulHouse, near New-Berne, North Carolina, United States of America, werekidnapped and carried on board the schooner _Ebba_, belonging to theCount d'Artigas. Both are now confined in the interior of a cavernwhich serves as a lair for the said Count d'Artigas--who is really KerKarraje, the pirate who some time ago carried on his depredations inthe West Pacific--and for about a hundred men of which his band iscomposed.
"When he has obtained possession of Roch's fulgurator whose power is,so to speak, without limit, Ker Karraje will be in a position to carryon his crimes with complete impunity.
"It is therefore urgent that the states interested should destroy hislair without delay.
"The cavern in which the pirate Ker Karraje has taken refuge is in theinterior of the islet of Back Cup, which is wrongly regarded asan active volcano. It is situated at the western extremity of thearchipelago of Bermuda, and on the east is bounded by a range ofreefs, but on the north, south, and west is open.
"Communication with the inside of the mountain is only possiblethrough a tunnel a few yards under water in a narrow pass on the west.A submarine apparatus therefore is necessary to effect an entrance, atany rate until a tunnel they are boring through the northwestern wallof the cavern is completed.
"The pirate Ker Karraje employs an apparatus of this kind--thesubmarine boat that the Count d'Artigas ordered of the Cramps andwhich was supposed to have been lost during the public experiment withit in Charleston Bay. This boat is used not only for the purpose ofentering and issuing from Back Cup, but also to tow the schooner andattack merchant vessels in Bermudan waters.
"This schooner _Ebba_, so well known on the American coast, is keptin a small creek on the western side of the island, behind a mass ofrocks, and is invisible from the sea.
"The best place to land is on the west coast formerly occupied by thecolony of Bermudan fishers; but it would first be advisable to effecta breach in the side of the cavern by means of the most powerfulmelinite shells.
"The fact that Ker Karraje may be in the position to u
se Roch'sfulgurator for the defence of the island must also be taken intoconsideration. Let it be well borne in mind that if its destructivepower surpasses anything ever conceived or dreamed of, it extends overa zone not exceeding a mile in extent. The distance of this dangerouszone is variable, but once the engines have been set, the modificationof the distance occupies some time, and a warship that succeeds inpassing the zone has nothing further to fear.
"This document is written on the twentieth day of September at eighto'clock in the evening and is signed with my name
"THOMAS HART, Engineer."
The above is the text of the statement I have just drawn up. It saysall that is necessary about the island, whose exact situation ismarked on all modern charts and maps, and points out the expediencyof acting without delay, and what to do in case Ker Karraje is in theposition to employ Roch's fulgurator.
I add a plan of the cavern showing its internal configuration, thesituation of the lagoon, the lay of the Beehive, Ker Karraje'shabitation, my cell, and Thomas Roch's laboratory.
I wrap the document in a piece of tarpaulin and insert the package inthe little keg, which measures six inches by three and a half. Itis perfectly watertight and will stand any amount of knocking aboutagainst the rocks.
There is one danger, however, and that is, that it may be swept backby the returning tide, cast up on the island, and fall into the handsof the crew of the _Ebba_ when the schooner is hauled into her creek.If Ker Karraje ever gets hold of it, it will be all up with me.
It will be readily conceived with what anxiety I have awaited themoment to make the attempt: I am in a perfect fever of excitement,for it is a matter of life or death to me. I calculate from previousobservations that the tide will be very low at about a quarter tonine. The top of the tunnel ought then to be a foot and a half abovewater, which is more than enough to permit of the keg passing throughit. It will be another half hour at least before the flow sets inagain, and by that time the keg may be far enough away to escape beingthrown back on the coast.
I peer out of my cell. There is no one about, and I advance to theside of the lagoon, where by the light of a nearby lamp, I perceivethe arch of the tunnel, towards which the current seems to be settingpretty swiftly.
I go down to the very edge, and cast in the keg which contains theprecious document and all my hopes.
"God be with it!" I fervently exclaim. "God be with it!"
For a minute or two the little barrel remains stationary, and thenfloats back to the side again. I throw it out once more with all mystrength.
This time it is in the track of the current, which to my great joysweeps it along and in twenty seconds, it has disappeared in thetunnel.
Yes, God be with it! May Heaven guide thee, little barrel! May itprotect all those whom Ker Karraje menaces and grant that this band ofpirates may not escape from the justice of man!
