At last I am out of the cavern. I am not free, but it is the beginning
of freedom.
On the point the forms of a few sentries stand out against the clear
sky, so motionless that they might be mistaken for pieces of the rock.
On the horizon to the west the position lights of the warship show in
a luminous line.
From a few gray patches discernable in the east, I calculate that it
must be about five o'clock in the morning.
_November 18_.--It is now light enough for me to be able to
complete my notes relating the details of my visit to Thomas Roch's
laboratory--the last lines my hand will trace, perhaps.
I have begun to write, and shall dot down the incidents of the attack
as they occur.
The light damp mist that hangs over the water soon lifts under the
influence of the breeze, and at last I can distinguish the warships.
There are five of them, and they are lying in a line about six miles
off, and consequently beyond the range of Roch's engines.
My fear that after passing in sight of the Bermudas the squadron would
continue on its way to the Antilles or Mexico was therefore unfounded.
No, there it is, awaiting broad daylight in order to attack Back Cup.
There is a movement on the coast. 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.
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