As this thought flashed through my mind, Ker Karraje said:
“Very well, Serko, and if it becomes necessary some day to defend Back Cup and prevent any ship from approaching it——. It is true,” he went on, without finishing the reflection, “our retreat would have to have been discovered by accident—or by denunciation.”
“We have nothing to fear either from accident or denunciation,” affirmed Serko.
“By one of our band, no, of course not, but by Simon Hart, perhaps.”
“Hart!” exclaimed Serko. “He would have to escape first and no one can escape from Back Cup. I am, by the bye, interested in this Hart. He is a colleague, after all, and I have always suspected that he knows more about Roch’s invention than he pretends. I will get round him so that we shall soon be discussing physics, mechanics, and matters ballistic like a couple of friends.”
“No matter,” replied the generous and sensible Count d’Artigas, “when we are in full possession of the secret we had better get rid of the fellow.”
“We have plenty of time to do that, Ker Karraje.”
“If God permits you to, you wretches,” I muttered to myself, while my heart thumped against my ribs.
And yet, without the intervention of Providence, what hope is there for me?
The conversation then took another direction.