"How?"
The visitor, his business at an end, rose.
"That is simple, a twist of the hand, unless the combination is true, releases a quart of acid, any of the corrosive acids will serve."
Merville bent his head in thought. Presently he saw a flaw in the invention. "Suppose they don't touch the lock?" he asked. "Suppose they burn out the side of the safe—it can be done, I believe—what then?"
Ambrose Sault gave that soft laugh of his. "The sides will be hollow, and filled from the inside of the safe, with water pumped in at a pressure. Cut through the safe, and the water escapes and releases a plunger that brings about the same result—the contents of the safe are destroyed."
"You are a strange creature—the strangest I have met. I don't understand you," Merville shook his head. "I hope you will hurry with that safe." As Sault was at the door he asked: "Where did Moropulos find you, Sault?"
The man turned. "He found me in the sea," he said. "Moropulos was trading in those days. He had a sloop—pearl smuggling, I think. I thought he had told you. I never make any secret about it."
"In the sea—for heavens sake what do you mean? Where?"
"Ten miles off the Isle of Pines. I got away from Noumea in a boat. Noumea is the capital of New Caledonia. I and three Canaques—they were under sentence for cannibalism. We ran into a cyclone and swamped, just as we were trying to make the sloop which was standing in to the lee of the island. Moropulos took me on board and the natives; when he found that I was a convict—"
"A convict—a French convict!"