“Somewhat curiously, the Caribs did not come out to our boat to attack us. If they had we must have yielded easily.
“But we soon learned the reason why. They were treasure-mad. With our picks and shovels they had dug up the gold and were fighting over it like wolves.
“As darkness began to shut down the sea began to experience a strange motion. A dull, cannon-like roar came out of the west. Then we witnessed a terrible phenomenon.
“The waters rose like a mighty flood over the isle. At least that was the way it looked. But instead it was the isle which sank into the sea.”
Frank and Wade each drew a deep breath.
They had been intensely interested.
“Then,” continued Poole, “we had hard work to save the ship, but we made out to live through the vortex, and having fair weather worked the ship into the port of Havana.
“Here we sold her and returned to Paris. I separated from my companions. Monte Carlo drew me into its grip once more, and one night the devil aided me and I broke the bank.
“My first fate was to succumb to the treasure fever. I bought this yacht and fitted it out with a view to making a fighting vessel of it. This time I was bound to have means of defense in case of attack.
“My men are picked and trusty. They are all bound to me by the most powerful of oaths. I have every sort of diving apparatus aboard. In this manner I have hoped to recover the treasure. This is my story.”