 Chapter one of Facing the Flag. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by John Thomas Cous, Vern Philius, John K. Thomas. Facing the Flag by Jules Verne. Translated by Cashel Hoey. Chapter one. Healthful House. The cart de visite received that day, June 15th, 189, by the director of the establishment of Healthful House, was a very neat one and simply bore, without escutcheon or coronet, the name Count d'Artigas. Below this name, in a corner of the cart, the following address was written in lead pencil. On board the schooner Eba, anchored off New Bern Pamlicle Sound. The capital of North Carolina, one of the 44 states of the Union at this epoch, is the rather important town of Raleigh, which is about 150 miles in the interior of the province. It is only to its central position that the city has become the seat of the state legislature, and there are others that equal and even surpass it in industrial and commercial importance, such as Wilmington, Charlotte, Fayetteville, Edmonton, Washington, Salisbury, Tarborough, Halifax, and New Bern. The latter town is situated on estuary of the Neuse River, which empties itself into Pamlicle Sound, a sort of vast maritime lake protected by a natural dike formed by the isles and islets of the Carolina coast. The director of Healthful House could never have imagined why the card should have been sent to him, had it not been accompanied by a note from the Count de Targas soliciting permission to visit the establishment. The personage in question hoped that the director would grant his request and announce that he would present himself in the afternoon accompanied by Captain Spade, commander of the schooner Eba. This desire to penetrate to the interior of the celebrated sanitarium, then in great request by the wealthy invalids of the United States, was natural enough on the part of a foreigner. Others who did not bear such a high sounding name as Count de Targas had visited it and had been unstinting in their compliments to the director. The latter therefore hastened to accord the authorization demanded and added that he would be honored to open the doors of the establishment to the Count de Targas. Healthful House, which contained a select personnel and was assured of the cooperation of the most celebrated doctors in the country, was a private enterprise. Independent of hospitals and Alms houses, but subjected to the surveillance of the state, it comprised all the conditions of comfort and celebrity essential to establishments of this description designed to receive an opulent clientele. It would have been difficult to find a more agreeable situation than that of Healthful House. On the landward slope of a hill extended a park of 200 acres planted with the magnificent vegetation that grows so luxuriously in that part of North America, which is equal in latitude to the Canary and Madera Islands. At the furthest limit of the park lay the wide estuary of the Neuse, swept by the cool breezes of Pamlico Sound and by the winds that blew from the ocean beyond the narrow Lido of the coast. Healthful House, where rich invalids were cared for under such excellent hygienic conditions, was more generally reserved for the treatment of chronic complaints, but the management did not decline to admit patients affected by mental troubles when the latter were not of an incurable nature. It thus happened, a circumstance that was bound to attract a good deal of attention to Healthful House, and which perhaps was the motive for the visit of the Count D'Artagos, that a person of worldwide notoriety had for 18 months been under special observation there. This person was a Frenchman named Thomas Roek, 45 years of age. He was, beyond question, suffering from some mental malady, but expert alienists admitted that he had not entirely lost the use of his reasoning faculties. It was only too evident that he had lost all notion of things as far as the ordinary acts of life were concerned. But in regards to subjects demanding the exercise of his genius, his sanity was unimpaired and unassailable. A fact which demonstrates how true is the dictum that genius and madness are often closely allied. Otherwise his condition manifested itself by complete loss of memory. The impossibility of concentrating his attention upon anything, lack of judgment, delirium, and incoherence. He no longer even possessed the natural animal instinct of self-preservation, and he had to be watched like an infant whom one never permits out of one sight. Therefore a warder was detailed to keep close watch over him by day and by night in pavilion number 17 at the end of Hellful House Park, which had been specially set apart for him. Ordinary insanity, when it is not incurable, can only be cured by moral means. Medicine and therapeutics are powerless, and their inefficacy has long been recognized by specialists. Were these moral means applicable to the case of Thomas Roche, one may be permitted to doubt it, even amid the tranquil and salubrious surroundings of Hellful House. As a matter of fact, the very symptoms of anesias, changes of temper, irritability, queer traits of character, melancholy, apathy, and repugnance for serious occupations were distinctly apparent. No treatment seemed capable of curing or even alleviating these symptoms. This was patent to all his medical attendance. It has been just a remark that madness is in excess of subjectivity. That is to say a state in which the mind accords too much to mental labor and not enough to outward impressions. In the case of Thomas Roche, this indifference was practically absolute. He lived but within himself, so to speak. A prey to a fixed idea which had brought him to the condition in which we find him. Could any circumstance occur to counteract it, to exteriorize him as it were? The thing was improbable, but it was not impossible. It is now necessary to explain how this Frenchman came to quit France, what motive attracted him to the United States, why the federal government had judged it prudent and necessary to intern him in the sanitarium, where every utterance that unconsciously escaped him during his crises were noted and recorded with minutest care. Eighteen months previously, the Secretary of the Navy at Washington had received a demand for an audience in regard to a communication that Thomas Roche desired to make to him. As soon as he glanced at the name, the Secretary perfectly understood the nature of the communication and the terms which would accompany it. An immediate audience was unhesitatingly accorded. Thomas Roche's notar idea was indeed such that, out of solicitude for the interests confided to his keeping and which he was bound to safeguard, he could not hesitate to receive the petitioner and listen to the proposals which the latter desired personally to submit to him. Thomas Roche was an inventor, an inventor of genius. Several important discoveries had brought him prominently to the notice of the world. Thanks to him, problems that had previously remained purely theoretical had received practical application. He occupied a conspicuous place in the front rank of the Army of Science. It will be seen how worry, deceptions, mortification, and the outrages with which he was overwhelmed by the cynical wits of the press combined to drive him to that degree of madness which necessitated his internment in healthful house. His latest invention in war engines bore the name of Roche's fulgurator. This apparatus possessed, if he was to be believed, such superiority over all others that the state which acquired it would become absolute master of earth and ocean. The deplorable difficulties inventors encounter in connection with their inventions are only too well known, especially when they endeavor to get them adopted by governmental commissions. Several of the most celebrated examples are still fresh in everybody's memory. It is useless to insist upon this point because there are sometimes circumstances underlying affairs of this kind upon which it is difficult to obtain any light. In regard to Thomas Roche, however, it is only fair to say that, as in the case of the majority of his predecessors, his pretensions were excessive. He placed such an exorbitant price upon his new engine that it was practically impossible to treat with him. This was due to the fact, and it should not be lost sight of, that in respect of previous inventions which had been most fruitful in result, he had been imposed upon with the greatest audacity. Being unable to obtain therefrom the profits which he had a right to expect, his temper had become soured. He became suspicious, would give up nothing without knowing just what he was doing, imposed conditions that were perhaps unacceptable, wanted his mere assertions accepted as sufficient guarantee, and, in any case, asked for such a large sum of money on account before condescending to furnish the test of practical experiment that his overtures could not be entertained. In the first place, he had offered the Fulgerator to France and made known the nature of it to the commission appointed to pass upon his proposition. The Fulgerator was a sort of auto-propulsive engine of peculiar construction charged with an explosive compose of new substances and which only produced its effect under the action of a def-flagrator that was also known. When this engine, no matter in what way it was launched, exploded, not unstriking the object aimed at, but several hundred yards from it, its action upon the atmospheric strata was so terrific that any construction, warship or floating battery within a zone of twelve thousand square yards would be blown to atoms. This was the principle of the shell launched by the Zelensky pneumatic gun with which experiments had already been made at the epoch, but its results were multiplied at least a hundred-fold. If, therefore, Thomas Roche's invention possessed this power, it assured the offensive and defensive superiority of his native country, but might not the inventor be exaggerating, notwithstanding that the tests of other engines he had conceived had proved incontestably that they were all he had claimed them to be. This experiment could alone show, and it was precisely here where the rub came in. Roche would not agree to experiment until the millions at which he valued his Fulgerator had first been paid to him. It is certain that a sort of disequilibrium had then occurred in his mental faculties. It was felt that he was developing a condition of mind that would gradually lead to definite madness. No government could possibly condescend to treat with him under the conditions he imposed. The French commission was compelled to break off all negotiations with him, and the newspapers, even those of the radical opposition, had to admit that it was difficult to follow up the affair. In view of the excess subjectivity, which was unceasingly augmenting in the profoundly disturbed mind of Thomas Roche, no one will be surprised at the fact that the cord of patriotism gradually relaxed until it ceased to vibrate. For the honour of human nature, be it said that Thomas Roche was by this time irresponsible for his actions. He preserved his whole consciousness only insofar as subjects bearing directly upon his invention were concerned. In this particular, he had lost nothing of his mental power. But in all that related to the most ordinary details of existence, his moral decrepitude increased daily and deprived him of complete responsibility for his acts. Thomas Roche's invention, having been refused by the commission, steps ought to have been taken to prevent him from offering it elsewhere. Nothing of the kind was done, and there a great mistake was made. The inevitable was bound to happen, and it did. Under great growing irritability, the sentiment of patriotism, which is the very essence of the citizen, who before belonging to himself belongs to his country, became extinct in the soul of the disappointed inventor. His thoughts turned towards other nations. He crossed the frontier, and forgetting the ineffacable past offered the fulgurator to Germany. There, as soon as his exorbitant demands were made known, the government refused to receive his communication. Besides, it so happened that the military authorities were just then absorbed by the construction of a new ballistic engine, and imagined they could afford to ignore that of the French inventor. As a result of this second rebuff, Roche's anger became coupled with hatred, an instinctive hatred of humanity, especially after his populair with the British Admiralty came to naught. The English, being practical people, did not at first repulse Thomas Roche. They sounded him and tried to get round him, but Roche would listen to nothing. His secret was worth millions, and these millions he would have, or they would not have his secret. The Admiralty had last declined to have anything more to do with him. It was in these conditions, when his intellectual trouble was growing daily worse, that he made a last effort by approaching the American government. That was about 18 months before this story opens. The Americans, being even more practical than the English, did not attempt to bargain for Roche's vulgarator, to which, in view of the French chemist's reputation, they attached exceptional importance. They rightly esteemed him a man of genius, and took the measures justified by his condition, prepared to indemnify him equitably later. As Thomas Roche gave only two visible proofs of mental alienation, the administration, in the very interest of his invention, judged it prudent to sequestrate him. As is already known, he was not confined in a lunatic asylum, but was conveyed to healthful house, which offered every guarantee for the proper treatment of his melody. Yet, though the most careful attention had been devoted to him, no improvement had manifested itself. Thomas Roche let it be again remarked, this point cannot be too often insisted upon, incapable, though he was of comprehending and performing the ordinary acts and duties of life, recovering all his powers when the field of his discoveries was touched upon. He became animated, and spoke with the assurance of a man who knows whereof he is discanting, and an authority that carried conviction with it. In the heat of his eloquence, he would describe the marvelous qualities of his vulgarator and the truly extraordinary effects it caused. As to the nature of the explosive and of the deflagrator, the elements of which the latter was composed, their manufacture and the way in which they were employed, he preserved complete silence, and all attempts to worm the secret out of him remained ineffectual. Once or twice, during the height of the paroxysms, to which he was occasionally subject, there had been reason to believe that his secret would escape him, and every precaution had been taken to note his slightest utterance, but Thomas Roche had each time disappointed his watchers. If he no longer preserved the sentiment of self-preservation, he at least knew how to preserve the secret of his discovery. Pavilion number 17 was situated in the middle of a garden that was surrounded by hedges, and here Thomas Roche was accustomed to take exercise under the surveillance of his guardian. This guardian lived in the same pavilion, slept in the same room with him, and kept constant watch upon him, never leaving him for an hour. He hung upon the lightest words uttered by the patient in the course of his hallucinations, which generally occurred in the intermediary state between sleeping and waking, watched and listened while he dreamed. This guardian was known as Gaiden. Shortly after this sequestration of Thomas Roche, having learned that an attendant speaking French fluently was wanted, he had applied a healthful house for the place, and had been engaged to look after the new inmate. In reality, the alleged Gaiden was a French engineer named Simon Hart, who for several years passed, had been connected with a manufacturing of chemical products in New Jersey. Simon Hart was 40 years of age. His high forehead was furrowed with the wrinkle that denoted the thinker, and was resolute, bearing denoted energy combined with tenacity, extremely well versed in the various questions relating to the perfecting of modern armaments. Hart knew everything that had been invented in the shape of explosives, of which there were over 1100 at that time, and was fully able to appreciate such a man as Thomas Roche. He firmly believed in the power of the latter's fulgurator, and had no doubt whatever that the inventor had conceived an engine that was capable of revolutionizing the condition of both offensive and defensive warfare on land and sea. He was aware that the demon of insanity had respected the man of science, and that in Roche's partially diseased brain, the flame of genius still burned brightly. Then it occurred to him that if, during Roche's crises, his secret was revealed, this invention of a Frenchman would be seized upon by some other country to the detriment of France. Impelled by a spirit of patriotism, he made up his mind to offer himself as Thomas Roche's guardian, by passing himself off as an American, thoroughly conversant with different language, in order that if the inventor did at any time disclose his secret, France alone should benefit thereby. On pretext of returning to Europe, he resigned his position at the New Jersey Manufactory, and changed his name so that none should know what had become of him. Thus it came to pass that Simon Hart, alias Gaiden, had been an attendant at Healthful House for fifteen months. It required no little courage on the part of a man of his position and education to perform the menial and exacting duties of an insane man's attendant. But, as has been before remarked, he was actuated by a spirit of the purest and noblest patriotism. The idea of depriving Roche of the legitimate benefits due to the inventor, if he succeeded in learning his secret, never for an instant entered his mind. He had kept the patient under the closest possible observation for fifteen months, yet had not been able to learn anything from him, or worm out of him a single reply to his questions that was of the slightest value. But he had become more convinced than ever of the importance of Thomas Roche's discovery, and was extremely apprehensive, lest the partial madness of the inventor should become general, or lest he should die during one of his paroxysms and carry his secret with him to the grave. This was Simon Hart's position, and this the mission to which he had wholly devoted himself in the interest of his native country. However, notwithstanding his deceptions and troubles, Thomas Roche's physical health, thanks to his vigorous constitution, was not particularly affected. A man of medium height, with a large head, high, wide forehead, strongly cut features, iron gray hair and mustache, eyes generally haggard, but which came piercing and imperious when illuminated by his dominant idea. That thin lips closely compressed as though to prevent the escape of a word that could betray his secret. Such was the inventor confined in one of the pavilions of healthful house, probably unconscious of his sequestration, and confided to the surveillance of Simon Hart the engineer, become gate in the water. End of chapter one, healthful house, Recording by John K. Thomas, John Cous, Vern Filias. HTTP www.validateyourlife.com or 1inthesamerecordings.com Chapter two of Facing the Flag. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by John Thomas Cous, John K. Smarski, Vern. Facing the Flag by Jules Verne. Translated by Cashel Hoey. Chapter two, Count Dartegas. Just who was this Count Dartegas? A Spaniard? So his name would appear to indicate. The stern of his schooner in letters of gold was the name Eba, which is of pure Norwegian origin. And had you asked him the name of the captain of the Eba, he would have replied Spade. And would doubtless have added that that of the boson was a frontut. And that of the ship's cook, Helum. All singularly dissimilar and indicating very different nationalities. Could any plausible hypothesis be deduced from the type presented by Count Dartegas? Not easily. The skin, his black hair, and the easy grace of his attitude denoted the Spanish origin, the ensemble of his person showed none of the racial characteristics peculiar to the natives of the Iberian Peninsula. He was a man of about 45 years of age, about the average height and robustly constituted. With his calm and haughty demeanor, he resembled an Hindu lord in whose blood might mingle that of the superb type of Malay. If he was not naturally of a cold temperament, he at least, with his imperious gestures of brevity, of speech, endeavored to make it appear that he was. As to the language usually spoken by him and his crew, it was one of those idioms current in the islands of the Indian Ocean and the Aegean seas. Yet when his maritime excursions brought him to the coasts of the old or new world, he spoke English with remarkable facility and with so slight an accent as to scarcely betray his foreign origin. None could have told anything about his past, nor even about his present life, nor from what source he derived his fortune. Obviously a large one, inasmuch as he was able to gratify his every whim and lived in the greatest luxury whenever he visited America, nor where he resided when at home, nor where was the port from which his schooner hailed and none would have ventured to question him upon any of these points so little disposed was he to be communicative. He was not the kind of man to give anything away or compromise himself in the slightest degree, even when interviewed by American reporters. All that was known about him was what was published in the papers when the arrival of the ABBA was reported in some port and particularly in the ports of the east coast of the United States where the schooner was accustomed to put in at regular periods to lay in provisions and stores for a lengthy voyage. She would take on board not only flour, biscuits, preserves, fresh and dried meat, livestock, wines, beers and spirits, but also clothing, household utensils, and objects of luxury, all the finest quality and highest price and which were paid for either in dollars, guineas, or other coins of various countries and denominations. Consequently, if no one knew anything about the private life of Count D'Artigas, he was nevertheless very well known in the various ports of the United States from the Florida Peninsula to New England. It is therefore no way surprising that the director of Healthful House should have felt greatly flattered by the Count's visit and have received him with every mark of honor and respect. It was the first time that schooner ABBA dropped anchor in the port of New Bern, and no doubt a mere whim of her owner had brought him to the mouth of the news. Otherwise, why should he have come to such a place? Certainly not to lay in stores, for Pamlico Sound offered neither the resources nor facilities to be found in such ports as Boston, New York, Dover, Savannah, Wilmington in North Carolina, and Charleston in South Carolina. What could he have procured with his piasters and banknotes in the small markets of New Bern? This chief town of Craven Country contained barely 6,000 inhabitants. Its commerce consisted principally in the exportation of grain, pigs, furniture, and naval munitions. Besides, a few weeks previously, the schooner had loaded up for some destination which, as usual, was unknown. Had this enigmatic personage then come solely for the purpose of visiting a helpful house? Very likely. There would have been nothing surprising in the fact, seeing that the establishment enjoyed a high and well-merited reputation. Or perhaps the count had been inspired by curiosity to meet Thomas Roche. This curiosity would have been legitimate and natural enough in view of the universal renown of the French inventor. Fancy, a mad genius who claimed that his discoveries were destined to revolutionize the methods of modern military art. As he had notified the director he would do, the Count of Dartegas presented himself in the afternoon at the door of a helpful house accompanied by Captain Spade, the commander of the EBA. In conformity with orders given, both were admitted and conducted to the office of the director. The latter received his distinguished visitor with M. Press Mall, placed himself at his disposal, and intimated his intention of personally conducting him over the establishment, not being willing to concede to anybody else the honor of being his Ciccerone. The count on his part was profuse in the expression of his thanks for the considerations extended to him. They went over the common rooms and private habitations of the establishment, the director prattling unceasingly about the care with which the patients were tended. Much better care if he was to be believed than they could possibly have had in the bosoms of their families, and priding himself upon the results achieved and which had earned for the place its well-merited success. The count Dartegas listened to his ceaseless chatter with apparent interest, probably in order the better to disassemble the real motive of his visit. However, after going the rounds for an hour, he ventured to remark, Have you not among your patients, sir, one annant whom there was a great deal of talk some time ago, and whose presence here contributed in no small measure to attract public attention to healthful house? You refer to Thomas Roche, I presume, count, quarry the director. Precisely that Frenchman, that inventor, whose mental condition is said to be very precarious. Very precarious count, and happily so perhaps. In my opinion, humanity has nothing to gain by his discoveries, the application of which would increase the already too numerous means of destruction. You speak wisely, sir, and I entirely agree with you. Real progress does not lie in that direction, and I regard as inimical to society all those who seek to follow it. But has this inventor entirely lost the use of his intellectual faculties? Entirely no, save as regards the ordinary things of life. In this respect, he no longer possesses either comprehension or responsibility. His genius as an inventor, however, remains intact. It has survived his moral degeneracy, and had his intense demands been complied with, I have no doubt he would have produced a new war engine, which the world can get along very well without. Very well, without, as you say, sir, re-accurred the Count Dartegas, and Captain Spade nodded approval. But you will be able to judge for yourself, Count, for here is the pavilion occupied by Thomas Roche. If his confinement is well justified from the point of view of public security, he is none the less treated with all the consideration due to him and the attention which his condition necessitates. Besides, healthful house is beyond the reach of indiscreet persons who might. The director completed the phrase with a significant motion of his head, which brought an imperceptible smile to the lips of the stranger. But, asked the Count, is Thomas Roche never left alone? Never, Count, never. He has a permanent attendant in whom we have implicit confidence, who speaks his language and keeps the closest possible watch upon him. If in some way or other some indication relative to his discovery were to escape him, it would be immediately noted down and its value would be passed upon by those competent to judge. Here, the Count Dartegas stole a rapid and meaningless glance at Captain Spade. Who responded with a gesture which said plainly enough, I understand. And had anyone observed the Captain during the visit, they could not have failed to remark that he examined with the greatest minuteness the portion of the park surrounding pavilion number 17 and the different paths leading to the ladder, probably in view of some prearranged scheme. The garden of the pavilion was near the high wall surrounding the property, from the foot of which, on the other side, the hill slope gently to the right bank of the news. The pavilion itself was a one-story building surmounted by a terrace in the Italian style. It contained two rooms and an anti-room with strongly barred windows. On each side and in rear of the habitation were clusters of fine trees, which were then in full leaf. In front was a cool green velvety lawn. Ornamented with shrubs and brilliantly tinted flowers, the whole garden extended over about half an acre and was reserved exclusively for the use of Thomas Roche, who was free to wander about it at pleasure under the surveillance of his guardian. When the Count Dartegas, Captain Spade, and the director entered the garden, the first person they saw was the Warder Gaiden, standing at the door of the pavilion. Unnoticed by the director, the Count Dartegas, I the attendant with singular persistence. It was not the first time that strangers had come to see the occupant of pavilion number 17, for the French inventor was justly regarded as the most interesting inmate of healthful house. Nevertheless, Gaiden's attention was attracted by the originality of the type presented by the two visitors, of whose nationality he was ignorant. If the name of the Count Dartegas was not familiar to him, he had never had occasion to meet that wealthy gentleman during the latter's sojourn in the eastern ports. He had therefore had no idea as to who the Count was. Neither was he aware that the schooner ever was then anchored at the entrance to the news at the foot of the hill upon which healthful house was situated. Gaiden, to men of the director, where is Thomas Roche? Yonder, replied the water, pointing to a man who was walking meditatively under the trees in rear of the pavilion. The Count Dartegas has been authorized to visit healthful house, the director explained, and does not wish to go away without having seen Thomas Roche, who was lately the subject of a good deal, too much discussion. And who would be talked about a great deal more at the Count had the federal government not taken the precaution to confine him in this establishment, a necessary precaution count, necessary as you observe, Mr. Director, it is better for the peace of the world that his secret should die with him. After having glanced at the Count Dartegas, Gaiden had not uttered a word, but preceding the two strangers he walked towards the clump of trees where the inventor was pacing back and forth. Thomas Roche paid no attention to them. He appeared to be oblivious to their presence. Meanwhile, Captain Spade, while being careful not to excite suspicion, had been minutely examining the immediate surroundings of the pavilion and the end of the park in which it was situated. From the top of the sloping alleys he could easily distinguish the peak of a mast which showed above the wall of the park. He recognized the peak at a glance as being that of the Ella and knew therefore that the wall at this part skirted the right bank of the noose. The Count Dartegas' whole attention was concentrated upon the French inventor. The latter's health appeared to have suffered in no way from his 18 months' confinement, but his queer attitude, his incoherent gestures, his haggard eye, and his indifference to what was passing around him testified only too plainly to the degeneration of his mental faculties. At length, Thomas Roche dropped into a seat and with the end of a switch traced in the sand of the alley the outline of a fortification. Then kneeling down, he made a number of little mounds that evidently intended to represent bastions. He next plucked some leaves from a neighboring tree and stuck them in the mounds like so many tiny flags. All this was done with the utmost seriousness and without any attention whatever being paid to the onlookers. It was the amusement of a child, but a child would have lacked this characteristic gravity. Is he then absolutely mad, demanded the Count D'Artigas who in spite of his habitual impassibility appeared to be somewhat disappointed? I warned you Count that nothing could be obtained from him. Couldn't he at least pay some attention to us? It would perhaps be difficult to induce him to do so. Then turning to the attendant, speak to him Gaiden, perhaps he will answer you. Oh, he will answer me right enough, sir, never fear, replied Gaiden. He went up to the inventor and touching him on the shoulder said gently, Thomas Roche. The latter raised his head and of the persons present he doubtless saw but his keeper though Captain Spade had come up and all formed a circle about him. Thomas Roche continued Gaiden speaking in English. Here are some visitors to see you, they are interested in your health, in your work. The last word alone seemed to rouse him from his indifference. My work, he replied, also in English, which he spoke like a native. Then taking a pebble between his index finger and bent thumb, as a boy plays at marbles, he projected it against one of the little sand heaps. It scattered and he jumped for joy. Blown to pieces, the bastion is blown to pieces. My explosive has destroyed everything at one blow, he shouted. The light of triumph flashing in his eyes. You see, to the director, addressing the Count D'Artigas, the idea of his invention never leaves him and it will die with him, affirmed the attendant. Couldn't you, Gaiden, get him to talk about his fulgurator? asked his chief. I will try to make sure he order me to do so, sir. Well, I do order you, for I think it might interest the Count D'Artigas. Certainly, a cent of the Count, whose physiognomy betrayed no sign of the sentiments which were agitating him, I ought to warn you that I risk bringing on another fit, observative Gaiden. You can drop the conversation when you consider it prudent. Tell Thomas Roche that a foreigner wishes to negotiate with him for the purchase of his fulgurator. But are you not afraid he may give his secret away? questioned the Count. He spoke with such vivacity that Gaiden could not restrain a glance of distrust, which, however, did not appear to disturb the equanimity of that impenetrable nobleman. No fear of that, said the order. No promise would induce him to divulge his secret until the millions he demands are counted into his hand, he will remain as mute as a stone. I don't happen to be carrying those millions about me, remarked the Count quietly. Gaiden again touched Roche on the shoulder and repeated, Thomas Roche, here are some foreigners who are anxious to acquire your invention. The madman started, my invention, he cried, my deflagurator, and his growing animation plainly indicated the imminence of the fit that Gaiden had been apprehensive about, and which questions of his character invariably brought on. How much will you give me for it? How much, continued Roche, how much, how much, ten million dollars, replied Gaiden. Ten millions, ten millions, a fulgurator ten million times more powerful than anything hitherto invented. Ten millions for an auto-propulsive projector, which, when it explodes, destroys everything in sight within a radius of over twelve thousand square yards. Ten millions for the only deflagrator that can provoke its explosion. Why, all the wealth of the world wouldn't suffice to purchase the secret of my engine, and rather than sell it at such a price I would cut my tongue in half with my teeth. Ten millions, when it is worth a billion, a billion, a billion. It was clear that Thomas Roche had lost all notion of things, and had Gaiden offered him ten billions the man-man would have replied in exactly the same manner. The Count Dartagas and Captain Spade had not taken their eyes off him. The Count was impassable as usual, though his brow had darkened. But the Captain shook his head in a manner that implied plainly, decidedly there was nothing to hope from this poor devil. After his outburst, Roche fled the garden crying hoarsely, billions, billions. Gaiden turned to the director and remarked, I told you how it would be. Then he rushed after his patient, caught him by the arm and led him without any attempt at resistance to the pavilion and closed the door. The Count Dartagas remained alone with the director, Captain Spade having trolled off again in the direction of the wall at the bottom of the park. You see, I was not guilty of exaggeration, Count, said the director, it is obvious to everyone that Thomas Roche is becoming daily worse. In my opinion, his case is a hopeless one. If all the money he asked for nothing could be got from him. Very likely, replied the Count, still if his pecuniary demands are supremely absurd, he has nonetheless invented an engine the power of which is infinite, one might say. That is the opinion expressed by competent persons, Count. But what he has discovered, ill, air, long he'd lost with himself in one of these fits becoming more frequent and intense. Very soon, even the motive of interest, the only sentiment that appears to have survived in his mind will become extinct. May have the sentiment of hatred will remain though, as Spade joined them at the garden gate. End of Chapter 2 Recording by John Thomas Cous www.validateyourlife.com or Now, Chapter 3 of Facing the Flag This is the Librebox Recording, all the Librebox Recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librebox.org Recording by John Thomas Cous Facing the Flag Ja Hill Chapter No. 3 Kidd knapped Spade were following the beach lined road that separated the healthful house estate from the right bank of the news. Both had taken leave of the director, the latter declaring himself greatly honored by their visit, and the former thanking him warmly for his courteous reception. A hundred dollar bill left as a tip for the staff of the establishment had certainly not belied the counter-reputation for generosity. He was, there would be no doubt about it, a foreigner of the highest distinction, if distinction be measured by generosity. Issuing by the gate at the main entrance to the healthful house, they had skirted the wall that surrounded the property, and which was high enough to preclude the possibility of climbing it. None a word passed between them for some time. The count was deep in thought and Captain Spade was not in the habit of addressing him without being first spoken to. At last, when they stood beneath the rear wall, beneath which, though it was not visible, the count knew pavilion number 17 was situated, he said, you managed, I presume, to thoroughly explore the place and are acquainted with every detail of it. Certainly count, replies Captain Spade, emphasizing the title. You're perfectly sure about it. Perfectly. I can go to the park with my eyes shut. If you still persist in carrying out your scheme, the pavilion can be easily reached. I do persist, Spade. Notwithstanding Thomas Roche's mental condition, notwithstanding his condition, and if we succeeded in carrying him off, that is my affair. When night comes on, I undertake to enter the park of healthful house, and then the pavilion garden without being seen by anybody. By the entrance gate? No, on this side. Yes, but on this side there is the wall, and you succeed in climbing it, how are you going to get over it again with Thomas Roche? What if the madman cries out, what if he should resist, what if his keeper gives the alarm? Don't worry yourself, in the least about that. We have only got to go in and come out by this door. Captain Spade pointed to a narrow door, lessen to the wall a few paces distant, and which was doubtless used by the staff of the establishment, when they had occasion to go out by the river. That is the way I proposed to go in. It's much easier than skilling the wall with a ladder. But the door is closed, it will open. Has it no bolts? Yes, but I shot them back while we were strilling about, and the director didn't notice what I had done. How are you going to open it? quarried the count going to the door. Here is the key, replied Spade, producing it. He had withdrawn it from the lock, where it happened to be when he had unbolted the door. Capital, exclaimed the count, it couldn't be better. The business will be easier than I expected. Let us get back to the schooner. At eight o'clock, one of the boats will put you ashore with five men. Yes, five men will do, said Captain Spade. There will be enough of them to affect our object, even if the keeper is aroused and it becomes necessary to put him out of the way. Put him out of the way, well, if it becomes necessary, of course he must. But it would be better to seize him, too, and bring him aboard the Eba. Who knows what, what, he has already learned a part of Rosh's secret. True. Besides, Thomas Rosh is used to him, and I don't propose to make him change his habitudes in any way. This observation was accompanied by such a significant smile that Captain Spade could entertain no doubt, as the roll reserved for the water of Hellful House. The plan to kidnap them both was thus settled, and appeared to have every chance of being successful. Unless, during the couple of hours of daylight that yet remained, it was noticed that the key of the door had been stolen and the bolts drawn back. Captain Spade and his men could at least count upon being able to enter the park, and the rest, the captain affirmed, would be easy enough. Thomas Rosh was the only patient in the establishment isolated and kept under special surveillance. All the other in Blitz lived in the main building, or occupied pavilions in the front of the park. The plan was to try and seize Rosh and Gaten separately, and bind and gag them before they could cry out. The Count Darticus and his companion wended their way to a creek where one of the Ebba's boats awaited them. The schooner was anchored two cable lengths from the shore. Her sails neatly rolled upon her yards, which were squared as neatly as those of a pleasure yacht, or of a man of war. At the peak of the main mist, a narrow red penant was generally swayed by the wind, which came in fitful puffs from the east. The Count and the captain jumped into the boat, and a few strokes of the oars brought them alongside the schooner. They climbed on deck, and going forward to the jibboon leaned over the starboard bulwark, and gazed at an object floating on the water, a few strokes ahead of the vessel. It was a small buoy that rocked by the ripple of the ebbing tide. Twilight gradually set in, and the outline of new burn, on the left bank of the sinuous noose, became more and more indistinct until it disappeared, and the deepening shades of the night, a mist set in from the sea. But though it obscured the moon, it brought no sign of rain. The lights gleamed out one by one in the houses of the town. The fishing smacks came slowly up the river to their anchorage, impelled by the oars of their crews, which struck the water with sharp, rhythmical strokes, and with their sails distended on the chance of catching an occasional puff of the dropping wind to help them along. A couple of steamers passed, sending up volumes of black smoke and mirrors of sparks from their double stacks, and lashing the water into foam with their powerful paddles. At eight o'clock, the Count D'Artigas appeared on the schooner's deck, accompanied by a man about 50 years of age, to whom he remarked, It is time to go, Circo. Very well, I will tell Spade, replied Circo. At that moment, the captain joined them. You had better get ready to go, said the Count, all is ready, but careful to prevent any alarm being given. An arranged matter so that no one will, for a minute, suspect that Thomas Roche and his keeper have been brought on board the Eba. They wouldn't find them if they came to look for them, observed Circo, shrugging his shoulders and laughing heartily as though he had perpetrated a huge joke. Nevertheless, it is better not to arouse their suspicion, said D'Artigas. The boat was lowered, and Captain Spade and five sailors took their places in it. Four of the latter got out the oars. The bowsen, effraundant, who was to remain in charge of the boat, went to the stern beside Captain Spade and took the tiller. Good luck, Spade, said Circo, with a smile, and don't make more noise about it than if you were a gallant caring off his lady love. I won't, unless that Gayden chap, we must have both Roche and Gayden, insists the Count D'Artigas. That is understood, replied Spade. The boat pushed off, and the sailors on the deck and the schooner watched it, so it was lost to sight in the darkness. Pending his return, no preparations for the Eba's departure was made. Perhaps there was no intention of quitting the port after the men had been kidnapped. Besides, how could the vessel have reached the open sea? Not a breath of air was now stirring, and in half an hour, the tide would be setting in again, and rising strongly and rapidly for several miles above New Bern. Anchored, as has already been said, a couple of cable links from the shore, the Eba might have been brought much nearer to it, for the water was deep enough. And this would have facilitated the task of the kidnappers when they returned from their expedition. If, however, the Count D'Artigas preferred to let the vessel stay where she was, he probably had his reasons. Not a soul was in sight on the bank, and the road, with its borders of beech trees, that skirted the wall of healthful house of state, was equally deserted. The boat was made fast to the shore. The captain Spade and his four sailors landed, leaving the boat in charge and disappeared amid the trees. When they reached the wall, Captain Spade stopped, and the sailors drew up on each side of the doorway. The captain had only to turn the key in the lock and push the door, unless one of the servants, noticing that the door was not secured as usual, had bolted it. In this event, their task would be an extremely difficult one. He wouldn't have succeeded in scaling the high wall. The captain put his ear to the keyhole and listened. Not a sound was to be heard in the park, not even a leaf rustling in the branches of the beaches under which they were standing. The surrounding country was wrapped in the profoundest silence. Captain Spade drew the key from his pocket, inserted it in the lock, and turned it noisesly. Then he cautiously pushed the door, which opened inward. Things were then just as he had left them, and no one had noticed the theft of the key. After assuring himself that nobody happened to be in the neighborhood of the Pavilion, the captain entered, followed by his men. The door was left wide open, so that they could beat a hurried and uninterrupted retreat in the case of necessity. The trees and bushes in this shady part of the park were very thick, and it was so dark that it would not have been easy to distinguish the Pavilion had not a light shown brightly in one of the windows. No doubt, this was the window of the room occupied by Roche and his guardian, Gaetan, seeing the latter never left the patient. Placed in his charge either by night or day, Captain Spade had expected to find him there. The party approached cautiously, taking the utmost precaution to avoid kicking a pebble or stepping on a twig, the noise of which might have revealed their presence. In this way, they reached the door of the Pavilion near which was the curtain window of the room in which the light was burning. But if the door was locked, how were they going to get in? Captain Spade must have asked himself. He had no key, and to attempt to effect an entrance through the window would be hazardous. For unless Gaetan could be prevented from giving the alarm, he would rouse the whole establishment. There was no help for it, however. The essential was to get possession of Roche. If they could kidnap Gaetan, too, in conformity with the intention of Count Dartegas, so much the better. If not, Captain Spade crept stealthily to the window, and standing on a tiptoe looked in. Through an aperture in the curtain, he could see all over the room. Gaetan was standing beside Thomas Roche, who had not yet recovered from the fit, with which he had been attacked during the Count Dartegas' visit. His condition necessitated special attention, and the water was ministering to the patient under the direction of a third person. The latter was one of the doctors attached to Healthful House, and had been at once sent to the Pavilion by the director when Roche's proxies came on. His presence, of course, ran into the situation more complicated, and the work of the kidnappers more difficult. Roche, fully dressed, was extended upon a sofa. He was now fairly calm. The proxies, which was abating, would be followed by several hours of torpor and exhaustion. Just as Captain Spade peeped through the window, the doctor was making preparation to leave. The captain heard him say to Gaetan that his, the doctor's presence, was not likely to be required any more that night, and that there was nothing to be done beyond following the instructions he had given. The doctor then walked towards the door, which, it will be remembered, was close to the window, in front of which Spade and his men were standing. If they remained where they were, they would not fail to be seen, not only by the doctor, but by the warder, who was accompanying him to the door. Before they made their appearance, however, the sailors at a sign from their chief had dispersed and hidden themselves behind the bushes, while Spade himself crouched in the shadow beneath the window. Luckily, Gaetan had not run the lamp with him, so that the captain was in no danger of being seen. As he was about to take leave of Gaetan, the doctor stopped on the staff and remarked, This is one of the worst attacks our patient has had. One or two more like that, and he will lose the little reason he still possesses. Just so, said Gaetan, I wonder that the director doesn't prohibit all visiters from entering the pavilion. Roche owes his present attack to a count dartagas, for whose amusement harmful questions were put to him. I will call the director's attention to the matter, respond to the doctor. He then descended the steps and Gaetan, leaving the door of a pavilion ajar, accompanied him to the end of the path. When they had gone, Captain Spade stood up and his men rejoined him. Had they not a better prophet by the chance, thus unexpectedly afforded them to enter the room and secure Roche, who was in a semi-comatose condition, and then await Gaetan's return and seize the water as he entered. This would have involved considerable risk. Gaetan, at a glance, would perceive that his patient was missing and raised an alarm. The doctor would come running back, the whole staff of healthful house would turn out, and Spade would not have time to escape with his precious prisoner and lock the door in the wall after him. He did not have much chance to deliberate about it, for the water was heard returning along the gravel path. Spade decided that the best thing to be done was to spring upon him as he passed and stifle his cries and overpower him before he could attempt to offer any resistance. The carrying off of the mad inventor would be easy enough in as much as he was unconscious and could not raise a finger to help himself. Gaetan came round a clump of bushes and approached the entrance to Pavilion. As he raised his foot to mount the steps, the foreshaylers sprung upon him, bore him backwards the ground, and had gagged him securely, bound him, handed foot and bandaged his eyes before he began to realize what had happened. Two of the men then kept guard over him while Captain Spade and the others entered the house. As the Captain had surmised, Thomas Roche had sunk into such a torpor that he could have heard nothing of what had been going on outside. Reclining at full length, with his eyes closed, he might have been taken for a dead man, but for his heavy breathing. There was no need either to bind or gag him. One man took him by the head and another by the feet and started off with him to the schooner. Captain Spade was the last to quit the house after extinguishing the lamp and closing the door behind him. In this way, there was no reason to suppose that the inmates would be missed before morning. Gaetan was carried off in the same way as Thomas Roche had been. The two remaining sailors lifted him up and bore him quietly but rapidly down the path to the door in the wall. The park was pitch dark. Not even a glimmer of the lights in the windows of Hellful House could be seen through the thick foliage. Arrived at the wall, Spade, who had led the way, stepped aside to allow the sailors with their burdens to pass through. Then followed and closed and locked the door. He put the key in his pocket, intending to throw it into the news and soon as they were safely on board the schooner. There was no one on the road nor in the bank of the river. The party made for the boat and found that Ephraundant, the Bosun, had made all ready to receive him. Thomas Roche and Gaetan were laid in the bottom of the boat and the sailors again took their places at the oars. Hurry up Ephraundant and cast off the painter or to the captain. The Bosun obeyed and pushed the boat off with his foot as he scrambled in. The men bent to their oars and rode rapidly to the schooner, which was easily distinguishable, having hung out a light at her mish and mast head. In two minutes they were alongside. The Count Dartegas was leaning on the bulwarks by the gangway. A right Spade he questioned. Yes sir, all right. Both of them, both the madman and his keeper, doesn't anybody know about it up at Hellful House? Not a soul. It was not likely that Gaetan, whose eyes and ears were bandaged, but who preserved all his sainte foie could have recognized the voices of the Count Dartegas and Captain Spade. Nor did he have the chance to. No attempt was immediately made to hoist him on board. He had been lying in the bottom of the boat alongside the schooner for fully half an hour, he calculated, before he felt himself lifted and then lowered, doubtless, to the bottom of the hold. The kidnapping, having been accomplished, it would seem that it only remained for the Eba to weigh anchor, descend the estuary and make her way out to sea through Pamlico Sound. Yet no preparations for departure were made. Was it not dangerous to stay where they were after their daring raid? Had the Count Dartegas hidden his prisoners so securely, as to preclude the possibility of their being discovered if the Eba, whose presence in proximity to Hellful House could not fail to excite suspicion, received a visit from the new Byrne police? However, this might have been an hour after the return of the expedition, every solo on board saved the watch. The Count Dartegas, Serco, and Captain Spade in their respective cabins and the crew in the forecastle were sound asleep. It was not till the next morning, and then very leisurely, that the Eba began to make preparations for her departure. From the extremity of New Byrne, Quay, the crew, might have been seen wholly stoning the deck, after which they loosened the reef lines under the direction of the frondant, the boson, hoisted in the boats and cleared the halyards. At eight o'clock, the Count Dartegas had not yet appeared on deck. His companion, Serco, the engineer, as he was called on board, had not quitted his cabin. Captain Spade was strolling quietly about giving orders. The Eba would have made a splendid racing yacht, though she had never participated in any of the yacht races, either on the North American or British coasts. The height of her masts, the extent of the canvas she carried, her shapely raking hull denoted her to be a craft of great speed, and her general line showed that she was also built to weather the roughest gales at sea. In a favorable wind, she would probably make twelve knots an hour. Notwithstanding these advantages, however, she must, in a dead calm, necessarily suffer from the same disadvantages as other sailing vessels, and it might have been supposed that the Count Dartegas would have preferred a steam yacht with which he could have gone anywhere at any time in any weather, but apparently he was satisfied to stick to the old method, even when he made his long trips across the Atlantic. On this particular morning, the wind was blowing gently from the west, which was very favorable to the Eba, and would enable her to stand straight out of the news, across Pamlico Sound, and through one of the inlets that led to the open sea. At 10 o'clock, the Eba was still rocking lazily at anchor. Her stem upstream and her cable tautened by the rapidly ebbing tide. The small buoy that on the previous evening had been moored near the schooner was no longer to be seen, and had doubtless been hoisted in. Certainly a gun boomed out, and a slight wreath of white smoke arose from the battery. It was answered by other reports from the guns of the chain of islands along the coast. At this moment, the Count Dartegas and engineer Circo appeared on deck. Captain Spade went to meet them. Guns barking, he said leconically. We expected it, replied Circo, shrugging your shoulders. They are signals to close the passes. What has that to do with us? Asked the Count Dartegas quietly. Nothing at all, said the engineer. They all, of course, knew that the alarm guns indicated that the disappearance of Thomas Roche and the Warder Gaiden from Healthful House had been discovered. At daybreak, the doctor had gone to pavilion number 17 to see how his patient had passed the night, and had found no one there. He immediately notified the director, who had the grounds thoroughly searched. It was then discovered that the door in rear of the park was unbolted, and that, though locked, the key had been taken away. It was evident that Roche and his attendant had been carried out that way. But who were the kidnappers? No one could possibly imagine. All that could be ascertained was that at half past seven on the previous night, one of the doctors had attended Thomas Roche, who was suffering from one of his fits. And when the medical man had left him, the invalid was in an unconscious condition. What had happened after the doctor took leave of Gaiden at the end of the garden path could not even be conjectured. The news of the disappearance was telegraphed to New Bern and then Sterale. On receipt of it, the governor had instantly wired orders that no vessel was to be allowed to quit Pemico Sound without having been first subjected to a most rigorous search. Another dispatch ordered the cruiser Falcon, which was stationed in the port, to carry out the governor's instructions in this respect. At the same time, measures were taken to keep a strict lookout in every town and village in the state. The count Dartagas could see the Falcon, which was a couple miles away to the east in the estuary, getting steam up and making hurried preparations to carry out her mission. It would take at least an hour before the warship could be gotten ready to steam out, and the schooner might by that time have gained a good start. Shall I weigh anchor, demanded Captain Spade? Yes, as we have a fair wind, but you can take your time about it, replied the count Dartagas. The passes of Pemico Sound will be under observation, observed engineer Circo, and no vessel will be able to get out without receiving a visit from gentlemen as inquisitive as they will be indiscreet. Never mind, get underway all the same, ordered the count. When the officers of the cruiser, or the custom house officers, have been over the Abba, the embargo will be raised. I shall be indeed surprised if we are not allowed to go about our business, with a thousand pardons for the liberty taken, and best wishes for a good voyage and speedy return, chuckled engineer Circo, following the phrase with a loud and prolonged laugh. When the news was received at New Bern, the authorities at first were puzzled to know whether the missing inventor and his keeper had fled or been carried off. As, however, Roche's flight could not have taken place without the connivance of Gaiden, this supposition was speedily abandoned. In the opinion of the director and management of Healthful House, the water was absolutely above suspicion. They must both then have been kidnapped. It can easily be imagined what a sensation the news caused in the town. What, the French inventor who had been so closely guarded had disappeared, and with him the secret of the wonderful fulgerator that nobody had been able to warm out of him? Might not the most serious consequences follow? Might not the discovery of the new engine be lost to America forever? If the Dearing Act had been perpetrated on behalf of another nation, might not that nation, having Thomas Roche and his power, be eventually able to extract from him what the federal government had vainly endeavored to obtain? And was it reasonable, was it permissible, to suppose for an instant that he had been carried off for the benefit of a private individual? Certainly not was the emphatic reply to the latter question, which was too ridiculous to be entertained. Therefore, the whole power of the state was employed in an effort to recover the inventor. In every county of North Carolina, a special surveillance was organized on every road, and at every railroad station, and every house in town and country was searched. Every port from Wilmington to Norfolk was closed, and no craft of any description could leave without being thoroughly overhauled. Not only the Cruiser Falcon, but every available cutter and launch was set out with orders to patrol panicle sound and board yachts, merchant vessels, and fishing smacks indiscriminately, whether anchored or not, and search them down to the Kielsen. Still, the crew of the Eba prepared calmly to weigh anchor, and the Count D'Artigas did not appear to be in the least concerned at the orders of the authorities and the consequences that would ensue if Thomas Roche and his keeper Gaten were found on board. At last, all was ready. The crew manned the capstone bars, the sails were hoisted, and the schooner glided gracefully through the water towards the sound. Twenty miles from New Bern, the estuary curves abruptly, and shoots off towards the northwest for about the same distance, gradually widening until it empties itself into Pamlico Sound. The latter is a vast expanse about 70 miles across from Swan Island to Roanoke. On the seaward side, stretches a chain of long and narrow islands, forming a natural breakwater north and south from Cape Lookout to Cape Hatteras, and from the latter to Cape Henry near Norfolk City in Virginia. Numerous beacons on the islands and islets form an easy guide for vessels at night seeking refuge from the Atlantic gales, and once inside the chain, they are certain of finding plenty of good anchoring grounds. Several passes afford an outlet from the sound to the sea. Beyond Swan Island Lighthouse is Ocracroak Inlet, and next is the Inlet of Hatteras. There are also three other known as Lagerhead Inlet, New Inlet, and Oregon Inlet. The Ocracoke was the one nearest the Eba, and she could make it without tacking. But the falcon was searching all vessels that passed through. This did not, however, make any particular difference, for by this time all the passes upon which the guns of the forts had been trained were guarded by government vessels. The Eba, therefore, kept on her way, neither trying to avoid nor offering to approach the searchers. She seemed to be merely a pleasure yacht out for a morning sail. No attempt had up to that time been made to accost her. Was she then specially privileged and to be spared the bother of being searched? Was the Count Dartagos considered too high and mighty a personage to be thus molested and delayed even for an hour? It was unlikely, for though he was regarded as a distinguished foreigner who lived the life of luxury, enjoyed by the favored of fortune, no one, as a matter of fact, knew who he was, nor whence he came, nor wither he was going. The schooner sped gracefully over the calm waters of the sound, her flag, a gold crescent in the angle of a red field, streaming proudly in the breeze. Count Dartagos was cozyly ensconced in a basket work chair on the afterdeck, conversing with engineer Circo and captain Spade. They don't seem in a hurry to board us, remark Circo. They can come whenever they think proper, said the Count, in a tone of supreme indifference. No doubt they are waiting for us at the entrance to the inlet, suggested captain Spade. Let them wait, granted the wealthy nobleman. Then he relapsed into his customary, unconcerned impassibility. Captain Spade's hypothesis was doubtless correct. The Falcon had as yet made no move towards the schooner, but would almost certainly do so as soon as the latter reached the inlet, and the Count would have to submit to a search of his vessel if he wished to reach the open sea. How was it then that he manifested such extraordinary unconcern? Were Thomas Roche and Gaiden so safely hidden that their hiding place could not possibly be discovered? The thing was possible, but perhaps the Count Dartegas would not have been so confident had he been aware that the Eba had been specially signaled to the warship and revenue cutters as a suspect. The Count's visit to healthful house on the previous day had now attracted particular attention to him and his schooner. Evidently at the time, the director could have had no reason to suspect the motive of his visit, but a few hours later Thomas Roche and his keeper had been carried off. No one else from outside had been near the pavilion that day. It was admitted that it would have been an easy matter for the Count's companion, while the former distracted the director's attention, to push back the bolts of the door in the wall and steal the key. Then the fact that the Eba was anchored in rear of, and only a few hundred yards from, the estate was in itself suspicious. Nothing would have been easier for the desperados than to enter by the door, surprise the victims, and carry them off to the schooner. These suspicions, neither the director nor the personal of the establishment had at first liked to give expression to, but when the Eba was seen to weigh anchor and head for the open sea, they appeared to be confirmed. They were communicated to the authorities of New Bern, who immediately ordered the commander of the falcon to intercept the schooner, to search her minutely, high and low, and from stern to stern, and on no account to let her proceed unless she was absolutely certain that Roche and Gaten were not on board. Assuredly, the Count D'Artigas could have had no idea that his vessel was the object of such stringent orders, but even if he had, it is questionable whether this superbly haughty and disdainful nobleman would have manifested any particular anxiety. Towards three o'clock the warship, which was cruising before the inlet, after having sensed search parties aboard a few fishing smacks, suddenly maneuvered to the entrance of the pass, and awaited the approaching schooner. The latter surely did not imagine that she could force a passage in spite of the cruiser, or escape from a vessel propelled by steam. Besides, had she attempted such a foolhardy trick, a couple of shots from the Falcon's guns would speedily have constrained her to lay two. Presently, a boat manned by two officers and ten sailors put off from the cruiser and rode towards the Eba, when there were only about half a cable's length off, one of the two men rose and waved a flag. That's a signal to stop, said engineer Circo. Precisely, marked Count D'Artigas, we shall have to lay two, then lay two. Captain Spade went forward and gave the necessary orders, and in a few minutes the vessel slackened speed, and was soon merely drifting with the tide. The Falcon's boat pulled alongside, and a man in the bows held onto her with a boat hook. The gangway was lowered by a couple of hands on the schooner, and the two officers, followed by eight of their men, climbed on deck. They followed the crew of the Eba, drawn up in line on the forecastle. The officer in command of the boarding party, a first lieutenant, advanced towards the owner of the schooner, and the following questions and answers were exchanged. The schooner belongs to the Count D'Artigas, to whom I presume I have the honor of speaking. Yes, sir. What is her name? The Eba. She is commanded by Captain Spade. What is his nationality? Hindu Mele. The officer scrutinized the schooner's flag while the Count D'Artigas added. Will you be good enough to tell me, sir, to what circumstance owe the pleasure to your visit on board my vessel? Orders have been received, replied the officer, to search every vessel now anchored in Pamico Sound, or which attempts to leave it. He did not deem it necessary to insist upon this point, since the Eba, above every other, was to be subjected to the bother of a rigorous examination. You, of course, sir, have no intention of refusing me permission to go over your schooner. I surely not, sir. My vessel is at your disposal, from peaks to villages. Only I should like to know why all the vessels, which happen to be in Pamico Sound today, are being subjected to this formality. I see no reason why you should not be informed. The Governor of North Carolina has been apprised that helpful house has been broken into, and two persons kidnapped, and the authorities merely wish to satisfy themselves that the persons carried off have not been embarked during the night. Is it possible, exclaimed the Count, feigning surprise, and who are the persons who have thus disappeared from helpful house? An inventor, a madman, and his keeper? A madman, sir. Do you, may I ask, refer to the Frenchman Thomas Roche? The same. The Thomas Roche whom I saw yesterday during my visit to the establishment, whom I questioned in presence of the director, who is seized with a violent paroxysm just as Captain Spade and I were leaving? The officer observed the stranger with the keenest attention, in an effort to surprise anything suspicious in his attitude or remarks. It is incredible, and as though he had just heard about the outrage for the first time, I can easily understand, sir, how uneasy the authorities must be. He went on, in view of Thomas Roche's personality, and I cannot but approve of the measures taken. I need hardly say that neither the French inventor nor his keeper is on board the EBA. However, you can assure yourself of the fact, by examining the schooner as minutely as you desire, Captain Spade show these gentlemen over the vessel. Then, saluting the lieutenant of the Falcon coldly, the Count Dartegas sink into his deck chair again and replaced his cigar between his lips while the two officers and eight sailors conducted by Captain Spade began their search. In the first place they descended the main hashway to the after saloon, a luxuriously appointed place filled with art optics of great value, hung with rich tapestries and the hangings, and wanescotted with costly woods. It goes without saying that this and the adjoining cabins were searched with a care that could not have been surpassed by the most experienced detectives. Moreover, Captain Spade assisted them by every means in his power, obviously anxious that they should not preserve the slightest suspicion of the EBA's owner. After the grand saloon and cabins, the elegant dining saloon was visited. Then the cook's galley, Captain Spade's cabin, and the quarters of the crew in the forecastle were overhauled, but no sign of Thomas Roche or Gayden was to be seen. Next, every inch of the hold, etc., was examined with the aid of a couple of lanterns, water kegs, wine, brandy, whiskey, and beer barrels, biscuit boxes, in fact, all the provision boxes and everything the hold contained, including the stock of coal, was moved and probed, and even the bilges were scrutinized, but all in vain. Evidently, the suspicion that the Count Dartegas had carried off the missing men was unfounded and unjust. Even a rat could not have escaped the notice of the vigilant searchers, leave alone two men. When they returned on deck, however, the officers, as a matter of precaution, looked into the boats, hanging on the davits, and punched the lower sails with the same result. It only remained for them, therefore, to take leave of the Count Dartegas. You must pardon us for having disturbed you, Monschur, the Count, said the Lieutenant. You were compelled to obey your order, gentlemen. It was merely a formality, of course, ventured the officer. By a slight inclination of the head, the Count signified that he was quite willing to accept this euphemism. I assure you, gentlemen, that I have had no hand in this kidnapping. We can no longer believe so, Monschur, the Count, and will withdraw. As you please, is the Eba now free to proceed, certainly? Then au revoir, gentlemen, au revoir, for I am an habitu of this coast, and shall soon be back again. I hope that ere my return, you will have discovered the author of the outrage, and have Thomas Roche safely back in helpful house. It is a consummation devoutly to be wished, in the interest of the United States, I might even say, of the whole world. The two officers courageously saluted the Count, who responded with a nod. Captain Spade accompanied them to the gangway, and they were soon making for the cruiser, which had steamed near to pick them up. Meanwhile, the breeze had freshened considerably, and when, at a sign from Dartegas, Captain Spade set sail again, the Eba skimmed swiftly through the inlet, and half an hour after was standing out to sea. For an hour, she continued steering east, northeast, and then the wind, being merely a land breeze, dropped, and the schooner lay becalmed, her shales limp, and her flag drooping like a wet rag. It seemed that it would be impossible for the vessel to continue her voyage that night, unless a breeze sprang up, and of this there was no sign. Since the schooner had cleared the inlet, Captain Spade had stood in the boughs gazing into the water, now to port, now to starboard, as if on the lookout for something. Presently, he shouted in a stentorian voice, furl sail, the sailors rushed to their ports, and in an instant the sails came rattling down and were furled. Was it count Dartegas's intention to wait there till daybreak? Brought a breeze with it? Presumably, all the sails would have remained hoisted to catch the faintest puff. A boat was lowered, and Captain Spade jumped into it, accompanied by a sailor who paddled it towards an object that was floating on the water a few yards away. This object was a small buoy, slimmer to that which had floated on the bosom of the noose, when the eba lay off hellful house. The buoy, with a tow line affixed to it, was lifted into the boat, that was then paddled to the bow of the Ella, from the deck of which another hosser was cast to the captain, who made it fast to the tow line of the buoy. Having dropped a ladder over board, the captain and the sailor returned to the ship and the boat was hoisted in. Almost immediately the hosser tottened, and the Ella, though not a state of canvas, had been set, sped off in an easly direction at a speed that could not have been less than ten knots an hour. Night was falling fast, and soon the rapidly receding lights among the American coast were lost in the mist on the horizon.