He has just laid two glass phials upon the table, and holds a third in his hand. He holds it up to the light, and observes the limpidity of the liquid it contains.
I have half a mind to rush in, seize the tubes and smash them, but I reflect that he would have time to make some more of the stuff. Better stick to my first plan.
He raises his head, turns and gazes at me.
"Ah! it is you, Simon Hart!" he replies calmly, even indifferently.
He knows my name. Engineer Serko must have informed him that it was Simon Hart, and not Keeper Gaydon who was watching over him at Healthful House.
"Yes, as I know what your object was in undertaking such a position. You lived in hopes of surprising a secret that they would not pay for at its just value!"
Thomas Roch knows everything, and perhaps it is just as well, in view of what I am going to say.
"Well, you did not succeed, Simon Hart, and as far as this is concerned," he added, flourishing the phial, "no one else has succeeded, or ever will succeed."
As I conjectured, he has not, then, made known the composition of his deflagrator.
Looking him straight in the face, I reply:
"You know who I am, Thomas Roch, but do you know in whose place you are?"
That is what Ker Karraje has permitted him to believe. The inventor thinks he is at home in Back Cup, that the riches accumulated in this cavern are his, and that if an attack is made upon the place, it will be with the object of stealing what belongs to him! And he will defend it under the impression that he has the right to do so!
"Thomas Roch," I continue, "listen to me."
"What do you want to say to me, Simon Hart?"
"This cavern into which we have been dragged, is occupied by a band of pirates, and--"
Roch does not give me time to complete the sentence--I doubt even whether he has understood me.
"I repeat," he interrupts vehemently, "that the treasures stored here are the price of my invention. They have paid me what I asked for my fulgurator--what I was everywhere else refused--even in my own country--which is also yours--and I will not allow myself to be despoiled!"
What can I reply to such insensate assertions? I, however, go on:
"Thomas Roch, do you remember Healthful House?"
"Healthful House, where I was sequestrated after Warder Gaydon had been entrusted with the mission of spying upon me in order to rob me of my secret? I do, indeed."