Three or four pirates emerge from the rocks, the sentries are recalled and draw in, and the entire band is soon assembled.

They do not seek shelter inside the cavern, knowing full well that the ships can never get near enough for the shells of the big guns to reach, the island.
I run no risk of being discovered, for only my head protrudes above the hole in the rock and no one is likely to come this way.

The only thing that worries me is that Serko, or somebody else may take it into his head to see if I am in my cell, and if necessary to lock me in, though what they have to fear from me I cannot conceive.
At twenty-five minutes past seven: Ker Karraje, Engineer Serko and Captain Spade advance to the extremity of the point, where they sweep the north-western horizon with their telescopes.

Behind them the six trestles are installed, in the grooves of which are Roch's autopropulsive engines.
Thirty-five minutes past seven: Smoke arises from the stacks of the warships, which are getting under way and will soon be within range of the engines.
Horrible cries of joy, salvos of hurrahs--howls of wild beasts I might more appropriately say--arise from the pirate horde.
At this moment Engineer Serko quits Ker Karraje, whom he leaves with Captain Spade, and enters the cavern, no doubt to fetch Thomas Roch.
When Ker Karraje orders the latter to launch his engines against the ships will he remember what I told him?
Will not his crime appear to him in all its horror?
Will he refuse to obey?
No, I am only too convinced of the contrary.

It is useless to entertain any illusion on the subject.