rise to the suspicion that I was not altogether
irresponsible for the recent incident. Engineer Serko scrutinized me
sharply as though he would read my innermost thoughts.

"Mr. Serko," I observed, "by profession, as well as by inclination, I
am accustomed to reason upon everything. This is why I communicated to
you the result of my reasoning, which you can take into consideration
or not, as you like."

Thereupon we separate. But I fancy my lack of reserve may have excited
suspicions which may not be easy to allay.

From this interview, however, I gleaned a precious bit of information,
namely, that the dangerous zone of Roch's fulgurator is between five
and six miles off. Perhaps, during the next equinoctial tides,
another notice to this effect in another keg may also reach a safe
destination.

But how many weary months to wait before the orifice of the tunnel
will again be uncovered!

The rough weather continues, and the squalls are more violent than
ever. Is it the state of the sea that delays another campaign against
Back Cup? Lieutenant Davon certainly assured me that if his expedition
failed, if the _Sword_ did not return to St. George, another attempt
under different conditions would be made with a view to breaking up
this bandits' lair. Sooner or later the work of justice must be
done, and Back Cup be destroyed, even though I may not survive its
destruction.

Ah! why can I not go and breathe, if only for a single instant, the
vivifying air outside? Why am I not permitted to cast one glance over
the ocean towards the distant horizon of the Bermudas? My whole life
is concentrated in one desire: to get through the tunnel in the wall
and hide myself among the rocks. Perchance I might be the first to
catch sight of the smoke of a squadron heading for the island.

This project, alas! is unrealizable, as sentries are posted day and
night at each extremity of the passage. No one can enter it without
Engineer Serko's authorization. Were I to attempt it, I should risk
being deprived of my liberty to walk about the cavern, and even worse
might happen to me.

Since our last conversation, Engineer Serko's attitude towards me has
undergone a change. His gaze has lost its old-time sarcasm and is
distrustful, suspicious, searching and as stern as Ker Karraje's.

_November 17_.--This afternoon there was a great commotion in the
Beehive, and the men rushed out of their cells with loud cries.

I was reclining on my bed