the day. You forget that on
the pretext of insanity, I was thrown into a dungeon. Yes, it was a
pretext; for my reason has never left me, even for an hour, as you can
see from what I have accomplished since I am free."

"Free! Do you imagine you are free, Thomas Roch? Are you not more
closely confined within the walls of this cavern than you ever were at
Healthful House?"

"A man who is in his own home," he replies angrily, "goes out as he
likes and when he likes. I have only to say the word and all the doors
will open before me. This place is mine. Count d'Artigas gave it to me
with everything it contains. Woe to those who attempt to attack it.
I have here the wherewithal to annihilate them, Simon Hart!" The
inventor waves the phial feverishly as he speaks."

"The Count d'Artigas has deceived you," I cry, "as he has deceived so
many others. Under this name is dissembled one of the most formidable
monsters who ever scoured the Pacific and Atlantic oceans. He is a
bandit steeped in crime--he is the odious Ker Karraje!"

"Ker Karraje!" echoes Thomas Roch.

And I wonder if this name has not impressed him, if he remembers
who the man is who bears it. If it did impress him, it was only
momentarily.

"I do not know this Ker Karraje," he says, pointing towards the door
to order me out. "I only know the Count d'Artigas."

"Thomas Roch," I persist, in a final effort, "the Count d'Artigas and
Ker Karraje are one and the same person. If this man has purchased
your secret, it is with the intention of ensuring impunity for his
crimes and facilities for committing fresh ones. He is the chief of
these pirates."

"Pirates!" cries Roch, whose irritation increases the more I press
him. "The real pirates are those who dare to menace me even in this
retreat, who tried it on with the _Sword_--for Serko has told me
everything--who sought to steal in my own home what belongs to me,
what is but the just price of my discovery."

"No, Thomas Roch, the pirates are those who have imprisoned you in
this cavern of Back Cup, who will utilize your genius to defend it,
and who will get rid of you when they are in entire possession of your
secrets!"

Thomas Roch here interrupts me. He does not appear to listen to what I
say. He has a fixed idea, that of vengeance, which has been skilfully
worked upon by Engineer Serko, and in which his hatred is concentrated
to the exclusion of everything else.

"The bandits," he hisses, "are those who