To his great surprise, Uncle Prudent had not even to push Frycollin's door. It was open.
He stepped into the doorway and looked around.
"Nobody here!" he said.
"Nobody!
Where can he be?" asked Phil Evans.
They went into the bow, thinking Frycollin might perhaps be asleep in the corner.
Still they found nobody.
"Has the fellow got the start of us?" asked Uncle Prudent.
"Whether he has or not," said Phil Evans, "we can't wait any longer.
Down you go."
Without hesitation the fugitives one after the other clambered over the side and, seizing the cable with hands and feet slipped down it safe and sound to the ground.
Think of their joy at again treading the earth they had lost for so long--at walking on solid ground and being no longer the playthings of the atmosphere!
They were staring up the creek to the interior of the island when suddenly a form rose in front of them.
It was Frycollin.
The Negro had had the same idea as his master and the audacity to start without telling him.
But there was no time for recriminations, and Uncle Prudent was in search of a refuge in some distant part of the island when Phil Evans stopped him.
"Uncle Prudent," said he. "Here we are safe from Robur.
He is doomed like his companions to a terrible death.
He deserves it, we know.
But if he would swear on his honor not to take us prisoners again --"
"The honor of such a man --"
Uncle Prudent did not finish his sentence.
There was a noise on the
"Albatross."
Evidently, the alarm had been given. The escape was discovered.
"Help!
Help!" shouted somebody.
It was the look-out man, who had got rid of his gag.
Hurried footsteps were heard on deck.
Almost immediately the electric lamps shot beams over a large circle.
"There they are!
There they are!" shouted Tom Turner.
The fugitives were seen.
At the same instant an order was given by Robur, and the suspensory screws being slowed, the cable was hauled in on board, and the "Albatross" sank towards the ground.
At this moment the voice of Phil Evans was heard shouting,
"Engineer Robur, will you give us your word of honor to leave us free on this island?"
"Never!" said Robur.
And the reply was followed by the report of a gun, and the bullet grazed Phil's shoulder.
"Ah! The brutes!" said Uncle Prudent.
Knife in hand, he rushed towards the rocks where the anchor had fixed itself.
The aeronef was not more than fifty feet from the ground.
In a few seconds the cable was cut, and the breeze, which had increased considerably, striking the
"Albatross" on the quarter, carried her out over the sea.
Chapter XX
THE WRECK OF THE ALBATROSS _____
It was then twenty minutes after midnight.
Five or six shots had been fired from the aeronef.
Uncle Prudent and Frycollin, supporting Phil Evans, had taken shelter among the rocks.
They had not been hit.
For the moment there was nothing to fear.