The colleagues wrapped themselves well up and eagerly watched for the sight of land to the southward. At Uncle Prudent’s request Frycollin tried to pump the cook as to whither the engineer was bound, but what reliance could be placed on the information given by this Gascon? Sometimes Robur was an ex-minister of the Argentine Republic, sometimes a lord of the Admiralty, sometimes an ex-President of the United States, sometimes a Spanish general temporarily retired, sometimes a Viceroy of the Indies who had sought a more elevated position in the air. Sometimes he possessed millions, thanks to successful razzias in the aeronef, and he had been proclaimed for piracy. Sometimes he had been ruined by making the aeronef, and had been forced to fly aloft to escape from his creditors. As to knowing if he were going to stop anywhere, no! But if he thought of going to the moon, and found there a convenient anchorage, he would anchor there! “Eh! Fry! My boy! That would just suit you to see what was going on up there.” “I shall not go! I refuse!” said the Negro, who took all these things seriously. “And why, Fry, why? You might get married to some pretty bouncing Lunarian!” Frycollin reported this conversation to his master, who saw it was evident that nothing was to be learnt about Robur. And so he thought still more of how he could have his revenge on him. “Phil.” said he one day, “is it quite certain that escape is impossible?” “Impossible.” “Be it so! But a man is always his own property; and if necessary, by sacrificing his life—” “If we are to make that sacrifice.” said Phil Evans, “the sooner the better. It is almost time to end this. Where is the “Albatross” going? Here we are flying obliquely over the Atlantic, and if we keep on we shall get to the coast of Patagonia or Tierra del Fuego. And what are we to do then? Get into the Pacific, or go to the continent at the South Pole? Everything is possible with this Robur. We shall be lost in the end. It is thus a case of legitimate self-defence, and if we must perish—” “Which we shall not do.” answered Uncle Prudent, “without being avenged, without annihilating this machine and all she carries.” The colleagues had reached a stage of impotent fury, and were prepared to sacrifice themselves if they could only destroy the inventor and his secret. A few months only would then be the life of this prodigious aeronef, of whose superiority in aerial locomotion they had such convincing proofs! The idea took such hold of them that they thought of nothing else but how to put it into execution. And how? By seizing on some of the explosives on board and simply blowing her up. But could they get at the magazines? Fortunately for them, Frycollin had no suspicion of their scheme. At the thought of the “Albatross” exploding in midair, he would not have shrunk from betraying his master.