Chapter 10

KER KARRAJE.

The cell in which I reside is about a hundred paces from the
habitation of the Count d'Artigas, which is one of the end ones of
this row of the Beehive. If I am not to share it with Thomas Roch, I
presume the latter's cell is not far off, for in order that Warder
Gaydon may continue to care for the ex-patient of Healthful House,
their respective apartments will have to be contiguous. However, I
suppose I shall soon be enlightened on this point.

Captain Spade and Engineer Serko reside separately in proximity to
D'Artigas' mansion.

Mansion? Yes, why not dignify it with the title since this habitation
has been arranged with a certain art? Skillful hands have carved an
ornamental façade in the rock. A large door affords access to it.
Colored glass windows in wooden frames let into the limestone
walls admit the light. The interior comprises several chambers, a
dining-room and a drawing-room lighted by a stained-glass window, the
whole being perfectly ventilated. The furniture is of various styles
and shapes and of French, English and American make. The kitchen,
larder, etc., are in adjoining cells in rear of the Beehive.

In the afternoon, just as I issue from my cell with the firm intention
of "obtaining an audience" of the Count d'Artigas, I catch sight of
him coming along the shore of the lagoon towards the hive. Either he
does not see me, or wishes to avoid me, for he quickens his steps and
I am unable to catch him.

"Well, he will have to receive me, anyhow!" I mutter to myself.

I hurry up to the door through which he has just disappeared and which
has closed behind him.

It is guarded by a gigantic, dark-skinned Malay, who orders me away in
no amiable tone of voice.

I decline to comply with his injunction, and repeat to him twice the
following request in my very best English:

"Tell the Count d'Artigas that I desire to be received immediately."

I might just as well have addressed myself to the surrounding rock.
This savage, no doubt, does not understand a word of English, for he
scowls at me and orders me away again with a menacing cry.

I have a good mind to attempt to force the door and shout so that the
Count d'Artigas cannot fail to hear me, but in all probability I shall
only succeed in rousing the wrath of the Malay, who appears to be
endowed with herculean strength. I therefore judge discretion to be
the better part of valor, and put off the explanation that is owing
to me--and which, sooner or later, I will have--to a more propitious
occasion.

I meander off in front of the Beehive towards the east, and my
thoughts revert to Thomas Roch. I am surprised that I have not seen