Facing the Flag, Jules Verne [novel24 TXT] 📗

Ker Karraje, the pirate. He cannot be aware that he has given up a part of his invention to such a bandit. I must open his eyes to the fact that he will never be able to enjoy his millions, that he is a prisoner in Back Cup, and will never be allowed to leave it, any more than I shall. Yes, I will make an appeal to his sentiments of humanity, and point out to him what frightful misfortunes he will be responsible for if he does not keep the secret of his deflagrator.”

All this I had said to myself, and was preparing to carry out my resolution, when I suddenly felt myself seized from behind.

Two men held me by the arms, and another appeared in front of me.

Before I had time to cry out the man exclaimed in English:

“Hush! not a word! Are you not Simon Hart?”

“Yes, how did you know?”

“I saw you come out of your cell.”

“Who are you, then?”

“Lieutenant Davon, of the British Navy, of H.M.S. Standard, which is stationed at the Bermudas.”

Emotion choked me so that it was impossible for me to utter a word.

“We have come to rescue you from Ker Karraje, and also propose to carry off Thomas Roch,” he added.

“Thomas Roch?” I stammered.

“Yes, the document signed by you was found on the beach at St. George⁠—”

“In a keg, Lieutenant Davon, which I committed to the waters of the lagoon.”

“And which contained,” went on the officer, “the notice by which we were apprised that the island of Back Cup served as a refuge for Ker Karraje and his band⁠—Ker Karraje, this false Count d’Artigas, the author of the double abduction from Healthful House.”

“Ah! Lieutenant Davon⁠—”

“Now we have not a moment to spare, we must profit by the obscurity.”

“One word, Lieutenant Davon, how did you penetrate to the interior of Back Cup?”

“By means of the submarine boat Sword, with which we have been making experiments at St. George for six months past.”

“A submarine boat!”

“Yes, it awaits us at the foot of the rocks. And now, Mr. Hart, where is Ker Karraje’s tug?”

“It has been away for three weeks.”

“Ker Karraje is not here, then?”

“No, but we expect him back every day⁠—every hour, I might say.”

“It matters little,” replied Lieutenant Davon. “It is not after Ker Karraje, but Thomas Roch, we have come⁠—and you also, Mr. Hart. The Sword will not leave the lagoon till you are both on board. If she does not turn up at St. George again, they will know that I have failed⁠—and they will try again.”

“Where is the Sword, Lieutenant?”

“On this side, in the shadow of the bank, where it cannot be seen. Thanks to your directions, I and my crew were able to locate the tunnel. We came through all right, and ten minutes ago rose to the surface of the lake. Two men landed with me. I saw you issue from the cell marked on your plan. Do you know where Thomas Roch is?”

“A few paces off. He has just passed me, on his way to his laboratory.”

“God be praised, Mr. Hart!”

“Amen, Lieutenant Davon.”

The lieutenant, the two men and I took the path around the lagoon. We had not gone far when we perceived Thomas Roch in front of us. To throw ourselves upon him, gag him before he could utter a cry, bind him before he could offer any resistance, and bear him off to the place where the Sword was moored was the work of a minute.

The Sword was a submersible boat of only twelve tons, and consequently much inferior to the tug, both in respect of dimensions and power. Her screw was worked by a couple of dynamos fitted with accumulators that had been charged twelve hours previously in the port of St. George. However, the Sword would suffice to take us out of this prison, to restore us to liberty⁠—that liberty of which I had given up all hope. Thomas Roch was at last to be rescued from the clutches of Ker Karraje and Engineer Serko. The rascals would not be able to utilize his invention, and nothing could prevent the warships from landing a storming party on the island, who would force the tunnel in the wall and secure the pirates!

We saw no one while the two men were conveying Thomas Roch to the Sword, and all got on board without incident. The lid was shut and secured, the water compartments filled, and the Sword sank out of sight. We were saved!

The Sword was divided into three watertight compartments. The after one contained the accumulators and machinery. The middle one, occupied by the pilot, was surmounted by a periscope fitted with lenticular portholes, through which an electric search-lamp lighted the way through the water. Forward, in the other compartment, Thomas Roch and I were shut in.

My companion, though the gag which was choking him had been removed, was still bound, and, I thought, knew what was going on.

But we were in a hurry to be off, and hoped to reach St. George that very night if no obstacle was encountered.

I pushed open the door of the compartment and rejoined Lieutenant Davon, who was standing by the man at the wheel. In the after compartment three other men, including the engineer, awaited the lieutenant’s orders to set the machinery in motion.

“Lieutenant Davon,” I said, “I do not think there is any particular reason why I should stay in there with Roch. If I can help you to get through the tunnel, pray command me.”

“Yes, I shall be glad to have you by me, Mr. Hart.”

It was then exactly thirty-seven minutes past eight.

The search-lamp threw a vague light through the water ahead of the Sword. From where we were, we had to cross the lagoon through its entire length to get to the tunnel. It would be pretty difficult to fetch it, we knew, but, if necessary, we could hug the sides of the lake until we located it. Once outside the tunnel