All that I have ever heard about this famous pirate recurs to me--his existence when he skimmed the Southern Seas, the useless expeditions organized by the maritime powers to hunt him down.

The unaccountable loss of so many vessels in the Atlantic during the past few years is attributable to him.

He had merely changed the scene of his exploits.

It was supposed that he had been got rid of, whereas he is continuing his piratical practices in the most frequented ocean on the globe, by means of the tug which is believed to be lying at the bottom of Charleston Bay.
"Now," I say to myself, "I know his real name and that of his lair--Ker Karraje and Back Cup;" and I surmise that if Engineer Serko has let me into the secret he must have been authorized to do so.

Am I not meant to understand from this that I must give up all hope of ever recovering my liberty?
Engineer Serko had manifestly remarked the impression created upon me by this revelation.