According to custom, we had left our chairs and were proceeding to the door at the further end of the saloon, in order to take our usual promenade, when a hail reached us from the deck above. Conrad's face—he was standing in front of us at the time—turned as pale as the cloth upon the table, and when he ordered us back to our cabins, a second or so later, it was in a voice so unlike his own that I scarcely recognised it. As for myself, a sudden, and peculiar, feeling of composure had come over me. I felt sure the vessel they were expecting was in sight, and that in a short time they would be on their way to board her, leaving us to meet, with what fortitude we might, the miserable death they had arranged for us.
To have let them have the least suspicion that we were aware of what they were about to do, would have been madness on our part, for in that case they would either have killed us outright, or have taken the precaution of making our cabins so secure, that we could not possibly escape from them in time. Once in my cabin I went to the port-hole and looked out. As I expected, I had interpreted the hail from deck aright, for, coming swiftly towards us, was a handsome vessel of the yacht type. Already, as I could tell from the revolutions of the screw, we had slackened our pace, and were doing but little more than crawl through the water. If we were to save ourselves we had not a moment to lose. Going to the bunk and procuring my gimlet, I set about the completion of my task with feverish energy. The blisters in the palm of my hand burnt like fire, my arm still ached from its morning exertion, but I kept steadily on, remembering that every turn of the little point was bringing us one revolution nearer safety. Only pausing now and again to look out of the port-hole, in order to note the vessel's progress, I continued the work until only some half-dozen holes were required to finish the task. In the saloon outside perfect silence reigned, and I could guess why—they were either preparing the machine, or making ready to leave the ship. It seemed to me that I could hear the ticking of the clock-work of the bomb. What if it were already in the stoke-hole, and had been running for half-an-hour? Another half-an-hour might elapse before I should be able to open the door. This thought sent the sweat of pure terror rolling down my face, and caused me to work with feverish haste. At last I could see the new-comer without moving from the door. She was still little more than a mile away, and was signalling our vessel. Overhead the tramp of feet was to be heard, followed by the whine of a rope running through a sheave. A moment later a boat was lowered, and lay for a moment in full view of my port-hole, before she disappeared.
By this time I had thrown caution to the winds, and was boring my holes right through the door, and out on the other side. I had just finished the last but one, and was about to withdraw the gimlet, when, without warning, the frail shaft broke off near the handle, and the little instrument, which a moment before had been our connecting link with life, lay at my feet as useless as a straw. I gazed at it for a moment, and then threw the handle from me with a gesture of despair. If I had not already done enough to make the door yield, my work would be of no avail. Suddenly a voice from the deck above called through the skylight in the saloon, "Conrad."
"Well?" cried the voice of Reiffenburg in answer from his cabin on the port side; "what is it?"
"What are you about that you do not come? Don't you know that the time is half gone?"
On hearing this, I sank back upon the locker almost beside myself with terror. My suspicions were correct after all. The machine had already been running for half-an-hour. A few seconds later a light step sounded in the saloon and went clattering up the ladder. I waited a few moments, and then, with agonizing curiosity, got on to my feet and looked out of the port-hole once more. I was just in time to see three boats leave the side, and push off in the direction of the stranger. Reiffenburg, Sargasta, and the man who had waited upon us, were in that nearest me; the rest were filled with the officers and crew. As they drew further away they looked back at our doomed vessel, while Reiffenburg, upon whose face I can quite imagine that devilish smile to be playing, took off his hat and waved it to us, as if in ironical farewell. Then I sprang off the locker, and, seizing the handle of the door, pulled with all my strength. To my horror it stood the test. I tried again, with the same result, and then fell back against the wash-hand-stand, hopeless, for the moment, to the very centre of my being. All the time a little voice within me was telling me that in the stoke-hole the wheels were going round remorselessly, ticking off the seconds that separated us from death. Not more than a couple of minutes could have elapsed since the men had deserted the ship, but to me they seemed like hours. Then, gathering all my strength together, for one great effort, I once more gave the door a terrific pull. This time I was more successful, for the wood cracked. Another crash followed, the door gave way under the strain, and I found myself stretched on my back upon the floor. I was free!
Regaining my feet I did not hesitate. I had arranged the whole plan in my mind beforehand, and did not waste a second considering what should be done. Shouting to my companions that I would free them in a few minutes, I rushed along the saloon, down the little alleyway, past the steward's cabin, and so on to the main-deck. Before a man could have counted twenty I was standing among the polished wheels and rods of the engine-room. "Heaven send they remained true of their decision to place it in the stoke-hole," I said to myself as I descended the narrow ladder that led to the furnace-room below.
Clutching it in my arms.
To face page 281.