Our boat slowly headed nearer the center of the long vessel, where a flat expanse was visible, then came to a halt. A metal hatch was flung open, and two men came out. One of them threw us a length of rope. Massier and a mariner had come up from below, and the mariner caught the rope and drew us alongside the submarine.
The baron gestured with his hand toward ship. “The Nautilus will take us to the Isle of Wight. We shall be there by morning.”
I glanced at the huge vessel floating there and felt a sudden queasiness in my stomach. This must be an experimental craft: we would definitely be putting our lives in peril. I could think of no worse way of dying than being trapped underwater and slowly suffocating or drowning.
I tried to speak lightly. “I hate to be a killjoy, but might we not use more conventional transportation to the Isle? Why not follow the original plan of going by ferry?”
The baron gave me an incredulous look. “This will be much swifter and more comfortable.”
Holmes glanced at me, then at the baron. “There is, in fact, no need for Henry to accompany us. Why don’t you have your men take him and young Beautrelet back ashore, and we can go on without them?”
Lupin shook his head. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything!”
“I’m not going to be separated from you,” I said.
The baron’s smile had a harsh edge. “Perhaps there is a slight misunderstanding here. I, and I alone, am in charge of this search. I meant it when I said I would not let you out of my sight. Don’t force me to make threats involving my men and the use of force. Sufficient to say, I have chosen this submarine to take us to the Isle of Wight, and you will all accompany me without further ado.”
Holmes stared at me. “I still think you might make an exception for Henry. He is not essential.”
I forced myself to smile. “Not essential! I like that! No, as I said, I shall not be separated from you, Sherlock.”
He set his hand on my shoulder. “Bravo, Henry. I think the vessel is sound enough.”
“And so it is,” the baron said. “Although quite new, having been launched only a month ago, it performed superbly during its initial voyage. The Nautilus went out into the deep Atlantic for some tests. They took her down to 200 meters without problems.”
Holmes’s mouth twitched into a brief smile. “They? I take it you were not on board, then?”
“No. I was otherwise occupied.”
Holmes looked amused.
“Not that I had any misgivings! None in the least. As I said, she passed her tests with flying colors. Jules Verne has his submarine descending thousands of meters, but even with a double steel hull one cannot really go below two or three hundred without the pressure crushing the vessel. But enough of this—come aboard, gentlemen, and do consider yourselves as my honored guests.”
“Rather than captives,” Lupin murmured loud enough for everyone to hear.
The baron gave him a disapproving glance. “You should feel honored to be the first to see this submarine, which will truly change the history of the world. It is a technological marvel, and no country on earth has a vessel even remotely its equal.”
We followed him across a gangplank, and as we came to the large open hatch, I drew in my breath and tried to ignore my fears, especially the thought that this could be my last time above water in the open air and the light of day. I wondered, too, if I would ever see my beloved Michelle again.
The baron descended, and we followed: Holmes first, next Lupin, then me, and finally Massier. The metal stairway down was very steep, almost closer to a ladder, and I clutched the rail tightly.
We gathered in small metal chamber with a hallway branching in either direction, and more stairs going down further below. The two men, standing nearby, were big and rough-looking. One had a long scar on his cheek, and his nose looked as if it had been broken. They wore uniforms modeled after those of the French Navy, dark blue blouses and trousers, as well as a beret-like blue hat with a pompom on top. The atmosphere seemed heavy and had even more of a stench than that of the other boat, a stale mixture of sweat and tobacco smoke. Technical marvel the ship might be, but the air circulation would seem to have room for improvement.
“Secure the hatch,” the baron said.
One of the men climbed up the stairs, grasped about for a handle, then lowered the hatch. He used both hands to turn a metal wheel to secure it in place.
The baron turned to us. “I shall have the captain get us underway, and then, if you would like, I can give you a quick tour of the ship before dinner.”
“Excellent,” Holmes said.
Lupin grinned and spoke in the high-pitched theatrical Beautrelet voice. “Oh, this is all so very exciting!”
One of the sailors stared at him as if he were daft.
Both hallways were lit up by interspersed glowing white domes, no doubt powered by electricity, and the floors and walls were of some dark polished wood. We started down the corridor toward the front of the submarine, and passed several substantial doors of metal, which must be watertight.
Massier paused before one of them. “I take it you no longer need me.”
The baron’s lips twitched briefly. “No.” He withdrew his watch. “We shall dine in an hour at the usual time, 7:30 P.M.”
Massier nodded, then opened the door and stepped inside what must be his cabin.
We continued on, until we came to another stairway. We went up, one by one, and crowded into a small circular room with four round windows set at ninety-degree intervals. A thin, grim-looking man wearing a navy jacket with gold buttons and a peaked cap, both much like the baron’s, clearly did not like having so many visitors in his domain. Nor did the stout sailor at his side. Besides the many gauges, dials, and various levers, a bulky bronze mechanism stood atop a metal shaft. Before the front window was a tall ornate wooden wheel with a brass center and eight wooden handles around the rim. Its purpose was obvious enough.
“Take her down, Didier, and then head northwest. We’re going to the Isle of Wight. We can plot the exact course once we’re underway.”
Didier gave a curt sort of nod, then flipped one lever, then a second. He grasped a brass metal horn and spoke into it. “All hands prepare for submersion.”
Again I could see a big dial with M marked on it for meters. It had gradations which went from 0 to 500. The interval between 300 and 500 was colored red. Obviously 300 meters must be the maximum advisable depth for the submarine. Once again, I saw the water rise up in the round windows as we sank, and soon there were only circles of wavery greenish-yellow at the ports, dimming even as we sank. Didier pulled down a lever, and the water at the windows was suddenly illuminated from some external light source. He stopped our descent at only about ten meters.
Again he spoke into the tube. “Battery room, bring us up to eight knots.” At his side was a big wooden stand with an enormous compass, two large metal balls on either side of it. A distant rumble started up, something which could be felt underfoot as well as heard. Didier turned the wheel, bringing us slowly about until the compass dial pointed between north and west.
“Why is the compass set between those two large metal spheres?” I asked Holmes.
“That is called a binnacle, Henry, and those two balls compensate for the interference caused by the metal hull of the submarine.” Holmes glanced overhead. “And unless I am much mistaken, that is a periscope you have there, monsieur le baron.”
“Very good, Monsieur Holmes. Your knowledge of naval vessels is most impressive.”
“What is the periscope for?” Lupin asked.
“It allows us to see above the water when we are submerged,” the baron replied. His smile became rather gloating. “It also allows us to aim.”
Holmes frowned. “Aim with what?”
“Ah, well, rather than answering that directly, let me show you. We shall commence our tour of the ship there—fittingly enough, at its most forward point.”
We descended from the pilot house, and continued on down another level below the wooden corridor. “The ship has two decks, the second one being more well-furnished for the officers and passengers, while the bottom one is for the crew and operations.” Indeed, the hallway was again lit up, but everything was of made of metal down here, a maze of pipes and wires lining the walls. The floor itself was a metal grate.
The baron opened a nearby door, and we found ourselves in a tall room with a narrow opening down the middle. On either side, rising to the ceiling high above, were stacked eight long metal tubes, each over a foot and a half in diameter and perhaps fifteen feet long, with fins and a propellor at one end. There was a sort of inclined plane beneath each of the two stacks where a tube rested, and at the far wall were two round metal hatches to what must be some sort of loading chambers. A large sign proclaimed in red letters, INTERDICTION DE FUMER—no smoking.
Lupin shook his head. “I’ll be damned—torpedoes!” The voice was not quite right, but he added, sounding more like Beautrelet. “Who could have ever imagined such a thing?”
Holmes said nothing but looked grim.
The baron was smiling. “Nemo’s Nautilus would ram ships to sink them. That was all well and good in the old days with wooden hulls, but to ram a modern naval warship with its thick armored steel hull would greatly threaten the integrity of this vessel. Instead we can remain at a distance and fire a torpedo. One of these can deal with even the thickest battleship’s hull.”
“What on earth do you intend to do with all of these!” I was dismayed.
“All in good time, Dr. Vernier. I shall tell you more about my plans at dinner.”
“I suppose they must use gun cotton as their explosive,” Holmes said.
The baron nodded. “Exactly. In a very dense configuration. But come along, let me show you the rest of the ship.”
We started down the corridor. Unlike the hallway above, this was one was quite constricting. and I felt faintly claustrophobic. We went by two sailors, and in each case, they had to squeeze against the wall, and we could only pass by in single file. Both wore the same navy-blue uniform, and neither of them looked very happy to see us. As we proceeded toward the stern, the rumbling and vibration from the engines grew louder.
The baron paused before a doorway. “This is the crew’s quarters.” He gave Lupin a contemptuous smile. “You will be spending the night here, Monsieur Beautrelet.”
The chamber was a long narrow one, and all was gray metal. Narrow bunks made up with brown blankets were stacked three high, and metal lockers lined one wall. Two men were lying on the beds.
Lupin laughed. “How charming! I cannot wait.”
The baron was obviously irritated by this response.
We continued on. At the end of the corridor were big metal doors to either side, and the baron opened the one to the left. We saw rows of iron-gray metal rectangular cuboids about six feet tall; a jungle of wires connected all the units and then ran along the wall to disappear fore and aft. We stepped inside. A hum could be almost more felt, rather than heard, because the steady thrum of the nearby engines was so loud, and the air had an acrid smell.
“This is one of the battery rooms.” The baron had to speak very loudly to be heard. “The other one is just across from this one. We have, in effect, two gigantic batteries, each with two hundred and fifty cells. They can power the ship for a maximum of about forty-eight hours at moderate speeds, but after that, we must surface. By then, our air supply is also compromised. The rotary electric motor which turns our propeller can then run off steam power from coal, even as the batteries are being recharged. As a practical matter, this means we typically travel submerged during the daylight when someone might spot us, and at night we voyage on the surface. That, in fact, is what we shall do tonight. Soon it will be quite dark, and the Nautilus will surface and make most of our journey to the Isle of Wight on the open sea.”
Holmes glanced about the humming banks of battery cells; the air in the room was noticeably warmer than in the corridor. “Do these batteries employ an electrolyte of potassium hydroxide with electrodes of zinc and copper oxide? That, I believe, is the plan for the latest French submarine under construction.”
“Very good, Monsieur Holmes! You are well informed, indeed, but no, that is much more primitive technology! Recharging would be impossible. These are lead-acid batteries, employing electrodes of lead and lead sulfate, with an electrolyte of sulfuric acid in water.”
We went back into the corridor, and the baron closed the door, then went to the one at the end of the corridor. “Beyond here is the engine room. As I said, when the batteries are offline, a coal-fired boiler provides electric power for the rotary motor. Of course, in that case, we have to vent smoke and exhaust via a stack. It is rather deafening in here, I’m afraid. I can let you have a quick look, but I don’t think we shall want to go inside.”
He spun a metal wheel, then opened what was by far the largest door yet. A blast of heat struck us, and the thrum became deafening, and was accompanied by a rhythmic clanging. Inside the dimly lit room was another great maze of wires and pipes, often very thick pipes, running all along the walls and ceiling. A brawny bare-chested sailor stood with a shovel near a coal bin and a furnace, while another man was by a complex instrument panel. A huge shaft ran through one side of the room, and large wheels with gears and pulleys were all turning, buzzing, and whirring at different speeds.
The baron gave us an inquisitive glance, but even Holmes seemed unenthusiastic about entering the engine room. The baron closed the door and turned the wheel. The relative silence was a relief.
“Let us go up a deck, and you will see the more comfortable parts of the ship.”
We went back down the corridor and followed him up a staircase. We started along the more spacious, upper deck hallway, and the interspersed ceiling lights brought out the dark wooden grain of the polished floors and walls. The noise from the engines became quieter. The baron opened another large door with a wheel, again, and we stepped into a dramatically different room, one appropriate for some elegant town house. A fantastical oriental carpet of many colors was on the floor, the massive sofas and chairs were of red-brown leather or velvet, the end tables and bookcases of dark oak, and to either side, two large oval windows gave a view of the ocean depths. A beautiful tall-case clock of inlaid wood, its pendulum swinging regularly, looked to be a close relative to those at the Château de l’Aiguille.
“This is the salon,” the baron said.
Holmes looked about. “Obviously this is modeled after Verne’s Nautilus.”
“Certainly, although the room is somewhat smaller. His took up two decks’ worth, while mine is only on one deck.”
“And what are the exact dimensions of your submarine? Do they match those of Verne’s Nautilus?”
“Almost. His submarine was seventy meters long, with a beam of eight meters, while mine is sixty-five by nine.”
“Close indeed. And tell me: what speed is this vessel capable of?”
“She can do ten knots submerged, and twenty knots on the surface.”
Holmes was clearly surprised. “That is faster than the latest battleships. HMS Victoria will only do about sixteen.”
“By now you should understand that this vessel has no equal amongst modern navies.”
The baron went to one of the windows and pulled a lever. Immediately light illuminated the greenish depths, and we could see a school of big reddish fish sweep by. The water flickered and danced, undulating, as the submarine sped along.
Holmes gave a brusque nod. “Most impressive indeed.”
Lupin was smiling. “I never thought I would live to see such a sight.”
I said nothing. I was still thinking about those torpedoes at the front of the ship.
“Come along, messieurs. A few last rooms, and then we shall have our supper.”
Next door, to our right, was the dining room, and a large table had been set with an elegant linen tablecloth, fine patterned blue and white china plates and silverware; to the left, in the steam-filled galley, a chef and his assistant were hard at work. We continued down the hallway, passing the central stairway up to the top deck. The baron showed us two cozy well-furnished guest rooms where Holmes and I would spend the night. Next came the captain’s cabin, and finally, near the very end, was a huge room reserved for the baron himself. An oaken four-poster bed dominated the chamber, and nearby were a matching wardrobe and desk, and a well-stacked bookcase. It certainly seemed a world apart from the austere metallic quarters for the crew below.
We returned to the dining room to find Massier standing before the sideboard, a snifter of brandy held in one large hand, while the other stroked thoughtfully at his full dark beard. The glowing overhead electric lights set in a crystal chandelier gleamed on his broad sloping cranium. He had changed into his dark blue suit.
A big man in a blue sailor’s uniform came into the room. He was nearly as tall as Holmes and me, but much brawnier, with broad shoulders and gigantic, powerful-looking hands. His reddish-brown hair was trimmed almost to a shadow over his ears, and only an inch or two sprouted up on top. His lips were very thin and pressed tightly together. He gave us a wary look.
“What would you like to drink?” he asked.
The baron frowned. “What would you like to drink, messieurs.”
The man scowled. “Messieurs. What do you want?”
We told him, and he poured us each an aperitif, then disappeared back into the galley. The baron shook his head. “I must apologize. He is only a coarse sailor, not an appropriately trained servant. I shall be bringing some of my regular staff along when I undertake a longer voyage.”
“I have noticed,” Holmes said, “that your crew are rather—how should I say it?—unsavory-looking. I suspect you did not hire regular mariners but men with a more checkered past.”
“Very good, Monsieur Holmes! You are the master of euphemism. That is exactly the case. I wanted men who would absolutely follow my orders, come what may.”
Holmes’s faint smile was without humor. “Men, so to speak, without any moral scruples whatsoever.”
The baron looked amused and gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. “You understand me, I see.”
“All too well, I think.”
The baron soon guided us to our places at the beautifully set table. I unfolded a large linen napkin and laid it over my lap. The big sailor soon appeared bearing plates with steaming pieces of meat, pork by the smell of it, as well as mashed potatoes and green beans. The chef in his white apron also came in and poured red wine into our elaborate goblets. After we had all been served, the baron looked about, then took up his glass.
“Rather primitive fare compared to what I would serve you in Paris, but my Nautilus is still not completely furnished. I hope to do better in the future! I give you a toast, gentlemen: to the great treasure of France. May it soon be ours!”
There was some clinking of glasses, but clearly none of us shared the baron’s enthusiasm. We set to, and I ate rather mechanically, without much appetite. The pork was good, but hardly the equal of that we had eaten at the château only a few days past. Somehow it seemed an eternity ago. Holmes and Lupin asked the baron questions about the submarine, but I remained silent, as did Massier. He regarded the baron through languid half-closed eyes with a sort of faint contempt.
The baron explained how, as with the fictional Nautilus, parts of the submarine had been constructed all around the world. Then it was assembled on a small island off the French coast, “whose location must, of course, remain a secret.”
Holmes had finished eating and sat back in his chair. “It must have cost you a true fortune. You spent every penny you had and borrowed all that you could.”
The baron swished his wine in its glass, admiring its color, then took a sip. “I’m afraid it has bankrupted me, but it was worth it, as you can see. The result is a masterpiece of engineering and technology, a submarine as far advanced for its time as Nemo’s was for 1870. Fiction has become—as you have seen—reality.”
“Of course, marvelous as your submarine is, the perpetually charged batteries of the novel are not possible. You can only be submerged for a day or two.”
The baron shrugged. “True enough. Perhaps someday someone will find a truly perpetual power source, but until then… Besides, it does not exactly matter. If we surface at night, we can still remain hidden.”
“And I believe you said that diving to the very bottom of the ocean is also not possible?”
“Unfortunately not. My top engineer and I did all the calculations. Even a double steel-alloy hull like this one cannot support depths much below three hundred meters. Again, I am certain that someday these problems will be resolved. We shall continue our research. Who knows what the future may bring?”
“And do you wish to circumnavigate the globe like Nemo?” Lupin asked.
“Eventually, yes, although because of the ship’s limitations I don’t think it will be possible to make it to the South Pole! All the same, messieurs, we live at the dawn of an amazing age of science and technology. Indeed, my Nautilus is proof enough of that! And la belle France will be at the forefront of the new age. I shall see to it.”
I regarded him warily. “And so you will share your discoveries with the world?”
“Eventually, yes.”
Holmes and I exchanged a glance. We had both remarked his use of the word eventually.
“Nemo was content to have only one submarine,” Holmes said. “I suspect you have grander plans.”
The baron laughed. “Very good, Monsieur Holmes! This ship is only the predecessor of a fleet to come.”
I was frowning. “But you said it cost a fortune.”
“So it did, Doctor. But I hope to soon have another fortune—a much greater one.”
Holmes swirled his own wine, then took a sip. “The treasure of France, you mean.”
“Exactly.” He laughed again. “Come now, Monsieur Holmes, you did not ever really believe I would surrender it, did you? That was only a polite fiction between the two of us.”
Holmes smiled faintly. “Yes, I suppose it was.”
“So you plan to steal the treasure?” I said. “To steal the treasure of the people of France?”
“Come now, Dr. Vernier—it is not the treasure of the people. It is the great treasure of the kings of France!”
“But that is outrageous! I would not have thought you capable of such a theft!” Lupin spoke with the high whiny Beautrelet voice, and while he might have fooled the baron, I knew he was only acting again.
“I don’t much care what you think, Beautrelet. If you behave, I shall set you ashore on the Isle of Wight. If not…” He shrugged. “But you, Monsieur Holmes—if you would like, you could accompany me on the first extended voyage of the Nautilus. As I indicated, she passed her shakedown cruise with flying colors. You could see her in action. I’ve tried the torpedo on a stationary target of my own, an old ship destined for the scrapheap, but I haven’t used them against a real warship. That will be one of my first endeavors.”
I stared at him. “You want to sink a warship?”
“Of course! What do you think the point of the torpedoes is? Unfortunately for you English, Monsieur Holmes, you have the most advanced ships, so it is against your navy that I must prove myself. I hope to sink a battleship, either the Victoria or the Trafalgar. I have not quite made up my mind which one yet.”
“And you—you would kill the entire crew?” My voice shook.
“That is the point of sinking a ship, is it not?”
“But why would you do such a thing!”
He stared at me. “That, too, is obvious, is it not? It is to prove that my ship is the master of the oceans, that none can stand against me.” He was smiling amiably and looked about. “But I see everyone has finished eating. I have an excellent port there on the sideboard. And would you care for a cigar? I have some superb Cubans.”
I could only stare at him, but Holmes said, “I would gladly sample one of your cigars.”
“And I,” Lupin said.
The baron gave him a contemptuous look. “I suppose you are old enough to smoke one.” He stood up, then went to the sideboard and brought over a tray with the port and some glasses. Next came a wooden box with the cigars. He began to pour the port.
“Would you care for some, Dr. Vernier?”
“I don’t want anything.”
“A pity.”
“I still cannot believe it.” My voice trembled again. “That you would sink a ship just to prove… What is the point of it all? Why must you be the master of the blasted seas?”
The baron gave a mock weary sigh and glanced at Holmes. “Is he always this obtuse? I would think it is rather obvious, Dr. Vernier. You know that the blood of the Bourbons flows in my veins, do you not?” He lit his cigar.
I stared at him, then shrugged. “What of it?”
“What of it!” He was briefly angry, then smiled. “What of it? I was born into the nobility—into a royal tradition that goes back centuries.” He sat up very straight. “Do you think I enjoy seeing my family humiliated and ignored, passed over by imbeciles? All these pretenders to the throne, worthless cretins, and this foolish Republic unable to do anything, a feeble reed swaying in the wind? And the Prussians—growing in strength, growing in dominance! Left unchecked, they will try again to conquer France—to humiliate us once more. No, no, I shall never allow it!”
He had grown quite red in the face. He drew in deeply on the cigar, calming himself. “You see, I do care about my country, after all.”
Holmes and Lupin were staring at him. Holmes had just cut off the end of the cigar, and now he lit it. “I take it you plan on remedying the situation.”
The baron sat back in his chair and tapped his cigar end on the edge of his dinner plate, knocking ash into some congealed pork fat. “Yes, certainly. France achieved greatness under Louis the Fourteenth and under Napoleon Bonaparte—and again, to a much lesser degree, under Louis Napoleon—but it has never lasted. My empire will be more permanent, a dynasty that will endure. My submarines will ensure its future.”
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. “Your empire?”
“Yes. Once I rule the seas, it will be a simple matter to overthrow the Republic. The people will welcome me with open arms. The throne is rightfully mine, after all. France will be happy to have a king again, especially an all-powerful one. The Mediterranean will be mine, the Atlantic will be mine, and the riches I can command will make it possible to raise a great army—my army. My engineers also have ideas for new weapons of war. Soon we will be invincible. My conquests will surpass even those of Bonaparte. Someday soon the French flag will fly over every capital of Europe.”
He was smiling happily again. “It is interesting. I have long reflected upon what flag I shall use. I considered abandoning the tricolor entirely. After all, it is associated with the Revolution and the Republics. All the same, it has a certain sentimental appeal to the French. I think I shall do what Napoleon did: keep the tricolor, but embellish it with my own symbol in the center. I’ll bring back the crown and the three golden fleur-de-lis of the Louis. Yes, it will be a combination of the old and the new!”
Holmes and I exchanged another look. Massier had said almost nothing, but he was smiling faintly. He had not been exaggerating in his appraisal of the baron. I think we all understood that the man was quite mad.
“I suspect you have your campaign all planned out,” Holmes said.
“Indeed I do! It begins—regrettably, I fear, from your point of view—with the subjugation of the British navy. But for her navy, England is a rather small and insignificant island on the outskirts of Europe. As for the Germans…”
The baron went on at length to describe his plans for conquest. Holmes and Lupin asked a few occasional questions, but I merely listened in disbelief at what I was hearing. Gradually I was caught up in what he was saying, and I had to remind myself that making yourself king of France and conquering all of Europe could not be quite so simple!
At last the baron withdrew his watch, then stood up. “It is after nine and time that we surfaced. I must see to it with the captain.” He regarded Massier rather warily. “Come along, Louis. And you, gentlemen, you can retire to the salon and relax there until bedtime. I believe you all know where your sleeping quarters are.” He smiled contemptuously at Lupin. “You can choose any free bunk in the crew’s quarters. We shall make good speed on the surface, and even before dawn we shall be off the Isle of Wight by these Needles.”
The two men left. Holmes, Beautrelet, and I regarded each other. I spoke first. “He is completely insane, is he not?”
“Not much doubt of that,” Lupin said. “He sounded eerily like I did this afternoon when I made my claim to be the royal heir to the throne. I was a Bourbon too! He was practically quoting some of my best lines.”
“Mad he may be,” Holmes said, “but if he finds the treasure and manages to build a fleet of submarines like this one, he might indeed destroy the Royal Navy and command the seas.”
I shook my head. “Let us hope we cannot find it—or that it does not amount to much.”
We went to the salon, and we were there as the submarine gradually rose to the surface. Shortly after, the distant thrum of the engines increased in volume, and we knew we were well underway.
I was rather tired out—it had been quite a day—and Holmes and I soon went to our cabins. A large nightshirt and robe had been laid out on my bed. I undressed, put them on, and got under the sheets. Exhausted I might be, but I could not sleep. When I put my head down on the pillow, I could feel the faint vibration of the ship’s hull, and the hum of the engines was louder. But that was not what kept me awake. I was only too aware that I was in an experimental vessel out for just the second time, and who knew how reliable it really was? At least we were no longer underwater, where it might be crushed by pressure and sink.
Also troubling me was the baron’s obvious insanity. I have seen patients I thought were normal, who suddenly and casually revealed themselves to be completely crazy. Sometimes the line between madness and sanity seems very narrow, and one might easily slip across it. The fact that there are simply no effective medical treatments whatsoever makes such a diagnosis truly frightening. And asylums, by and large, are dreadful places.
Even more troubling was the idea that the baron might succeed in his objectives! If he did manage to build a fleet of submarines, he would truly be unstoppable. He could blackmail the nations of the world into paying him to keep the ocean lanes open, and with all that wealth, he might indeed manage to make himself king of France. The damage he might do seemed… limitless.
After tossing and turning for a while, I got out of bed and went out into the hallway. The door to Holmes’s room was ajar, and light was streaming into the hallway. I glanced inside. He was seated in a chair near the desk, still dressed.
“So you cannot sleep, Henry?” he asked. “Come in and join me.” He gestured at the other chair. “I wish I had my pipe and a pouch of shag. A good smoke always helps me think, but it is just as well. The air in here is foul enough without that.”
“So it is. That was perhaps one reason I was restless. The air seems somehow inadequate, and faintly dirty.”
“I can only imagine what it must be like if they remain underwater into a second day.”
I ran my fingers through my hair, then lowered my hand. “Whatever are we going to do, Sherlock? We must somehow stop him.”
Holmes’s mouth twisted into a brief grimace. “Indeed we must. This truly is a marvelous vessel, and it is far beyond those of any European navy. All the same—if I could blow it to smithereens, I would gladly do so.”
I smiled faintly. “Preferably when we are not on board.”
He smiled back. “Yes. Preferably.” His smile faded. “But if the opportunity arises to sabotage this ship…” He noticed my expression. “Don’t worry, Henry! I would wait until you and Lupin are no longer on board.”
“Would you actually accept his invitation to join him on his voyage?”
“If that is what it takes.”
I shook my head. “Now I shall never sleep!”
He gave my forearm a quick squeeze. “Come now, somehow I do not think that it will come to that. This case has certainly been one surprise after another. I had surmised that he might have been spending money on some colossal naval construction, but all the same—never in my wildest imagination did I expect to be traveling this evening by submarine to the Isle of Wight! We shall just have to wait and see, Henry. The treasure is still a wild card. I am certain more surprises are in store for us.”