“I can’t help that,” answered Servadac, sharply; “it has gone just as utterly as if it had belonged to China.”
Colonel Murphy turned deliberately away from Servadac, and appealed to the count: “Do you not think you may have made some error, count, in reckoning the bearings of your yacht?”
“No, colonel, I am quite certain of my reckonings; and not only can I testify that Malta has disappeared, but I can affirm that a large section of the Mediterranean has been closed in by a new continent. After the most anxious investigation, we could discover only one narrow opening in all the coast, and it is by following that little channel that we have made our way hither. England, I fear, has suffered grievously by the late catastrophe. Not only has Malta been entirely lost, but of the Ionian Islands that were under England’s protection, there seems to be but little left.”
“Ay, you may depend upon it,” said Servadac, breaking in upon the conversation petulantly, “your grand resident lord high commissioner has not much to congratulate himself about in the condition of Corfu.”
The Englishmen were mystified.
“Corfu, did you say?” asked Major Oliphant.
“Yes, Corfu; I said Corfu,” replied Servadac, with a sort of malicious triumph.
The officers were speechless with astonishment.
The silence of bewilderment was broken at length by Count Timascheff making inquiry whether nothing had been heard from England, either by telegraph or by any passing ship.
“No,” said the colonel; “not a ship has passed; and the cable is broken.”