“You mean to tell me, then, to my face,” I hissed, “that your voyage with me was simply part of the scheme to obtain possession of the Caribas, and that you intend to add her to your infamous aggregation?”

Far from being displeased with my ferocity, the young man appeared to be delighted.

“You will be able to restrain your feelings before long. Life here is not so bad as you think. You will find our government a rigid but not a burdensome one. Our taxes are light and our social obligations are few.”

“What is to become of my crew?” I demanded, still chafing with rage.

“That is a matter that will have to be left entirely to the Chief Kantoon, who dwells upon a ship at a distance from here, in the interior of his floating nation. Some time is required to reach his sacred community in a small boat. It is a very tortuous and laborious trip to make, through an intricate network of small canals, an inland sea, like that of Japan, at the further side of which is moored his floating palace. Good Sargasson commanders visit him once a year. I have never looked upon his face but once. I am only a child of this people. I have been among them for five years. I was making a voyage from Bermuda to the Canary Islands in a schooner. I was taken ill with smallpox. The heartless captain put me in a small boat and set me adrift. I became delirious, then unconscious, and after several days was picked up by the Sargassons, nursed back to life, and have been their willing slave ever since. I owe my life to them.”

“But what is to become of my officers and crew?” I demanded.

Gray’s manner changed entirely, and I had no occasion to complain of his frankness.

“Those taken alive,” he began, “will be given the alternative of assisting in the navigation of the ship to this neighborhood, after which they must join our community, or suffer ‘the mercy of extinction.’ With the Sargassons there is only one way of insuring themselves against the vindictiveness of the world. Nobody is ever allowed to escape from here. Yes, I know what you are thinking. You are about to retort that I was allowed to revisit the United States. You are right in suggesting an explanation of my conduct.”

“I certainly would like to know how you came to be sent to the United States to involve me in this terrible misfortune,” I interrupted, with as much scorn as I could put into my voice. “I would not believe anything you may tell me, however. You are certainly a contemptible fellow, and I am surprised that even the ‘Sargassons,’ as you call them, could be induced to repose any confidence in you.”

Without noticing my contemptuous language, Gray continued: “It was not until I had been put to the supreme test, which you will some day understand, that I was permitted to return to the United States. I went only after taking the most solemn and sacred oath that can be administered to a mortal. Besides, you must remember that I really owe my life to these people. They rescued me from inevitable death after my own countrymen, who were followers of my own religion and supposed to possess all the humanity that it inculcates, had abandoned me to the sea in a heartless and disgraceful manner. Their conduct to me on this occasion would have been sufficient, did nothing else draw me to this strange race, to link my fortune to theirs. I am a Sargasson, now, before everything else in the world. I have forsworn my country, my mother, my friendships; and my fidelity to the people of the Floating Continent could not be shaken by any blandishment or threats. You will some day, perhaps, understand what these ties are that attach me so strongly to a life that is unnatural and, until one is inured to it, uncomfortable. I sincerely hope that the time may come speedily when you will be fully reconciled to your destiny, and even experience emotions of gratitude to me for having been an instrument in the hands of The Grand Kantoon—​who rules the sea, and the air, and whose missionary I was. At present I am sorry for you, because I know how wretchedly you feel. I am sorry for your friends and family at home, who will sorrow for you. But there are worse fates than yours. The span of life among us here is reasonably long. You possess a constitution of iron that has grown sturdy under stress of heavy weather, unremitting toil and unrequited zeal. Here your ability and your courage will find recognition, and no honor in the gift of the Sargassons is beyond your reach. Be advised, therefore, by me, the apparent cause of your present condition, and accept the inevitable, just as we all accept unwilling life at birth, and just as you must accept the inevitable fate of man, death.”