Under these circumstances it will probably not take more than a week to complete the tunnel.

September 19.—­For some time past I have observed that the tide rises and falls twice every twenty-four hours, and that the ebb and flow produce a rather swift current through the submarine tunnel.  It is pretty certain therefore that a floating object thrown into the lagoon when the top of the orifice is uncovered would be carried out by the receding tide.  It is just possible that during the lowest equinoctial tides the top of the orifice is uncovered.  This I shall be able to ascertain, as this is precisely the time they occur.  To-day, September 19, I could almost distinguish the summit of the hole under the water.  The day after to-morrow, if ever, it will be uncovered.

Very well then, if I cannot myself attempt to get through, may be a bottle thrown into the lagoon might be carried out during the last few minutes of the ebb.  And might not this bottle by chance—­an ultra-providential chance, I must avow—­be picked up by a ship passing near Back Cup?  Perhaps even it might be borne away by a friendly current and cast upon one of the Bermudan beaches.  What if that bottle contained a letter?

I cannot get this thought out of my mind, and it works me up into a great state of excitement.  Then objections crop up—­this one among others:  the bottle might be swept against the rocks and smashed ere ever it could get out of the tunnel.  Very true, but what if, instead of a bottle a diminutive, tightly closed keg were used?  It would not run any danger of being smashed and would besides stand a much better chance of reaching the open sea.

September 20.—­This evening, I, unperceived, entered one of the store houses containing the booty pillaged from various ships and procured a keg very suitable for my experiment.

I hid the keg under my coat, and returned to the Beehive and my cell.  Then without losing an instant I set to work.  Paper, pen, ink, nothing was wanting, as will be supposed from the fact that for three months I have been making notes and dotting down my impressions daily.

I indite the following message: 

“On June 15 last Thomas Roch and his keeper Gaydon, or rather Simon Hart, the French engineer who occupied Pavilion No. 17, at Healthful House, near New-Berne, North Carolina, United States of America, were kidnapped and carried on board the schooner Ebba, belonging to the Count d’Artigas.  Both are now confined in the interior of a cavern which serves as a lair for the said Count d’Artigas—­who is really Ker Karraje, the pirate who some time ago carried on his depredations in the West Pacific—­and for about a hundred men of which his band is composed.

“When he has obtained possession of Roch’s fulgurator whose power is, so to speak, without limit, Ker Karraje will be in a position to carry on his crimes with complete impunity.