Anger almost mastered me. I wanted to cry out “So be it! Keep your silence! I know who you are, just as I know your machine, recognized at Madison, at Boston, at Lake Kirdall. Yes; it is you, who have rushed so recklessly over our roads, our seas and our lakes! Your boat is the ‘Terror’ and you her commander, wrote that letter to the government. It is you who fancy you can fight the entire world. You, who call yourself the Master of the World!” And how could he have denied it! I saw at that moment the famous initials inscribed upon the helm! Fortunately I restrained myself; and despairing of getting any response to my questions, I returned to my seat near the hatchway of my cabin. For long hours, I patiently watched the horizon in the hope that land would soon appear. Yes, I sat waiting! For I was reduced to that! Waiting! No doubt, before the day closed, the “Terror” must reach the end of Lake Erie, since she continued her course steadily to the northeast. XIV. NIAGARA The hours passed, and the situation did not change. The steersman returned on deck, and the captain, descending, watched the movement of the engines. Even when our speed increased, these engines continued working without noise, and with remarkable smoothness. There was never one of those inevitable breaks, with which in most motors the pistons sometimes miss a stroke. I concluded that the “Terror,” in each of its transformations must be worked by rotary engines. But I could not assure myself of this. For the rest, our direction did not change. Always we headed toward the northeast end of the lake, and hence toward Buffalo. Why, I wondered, did the captain persist in following this route? He could not intend to stop at Buffalo, in the midst of a crowd of boats and shipping of every kind. If he meant to leave the lake by water, there was only the Niagara River to follow; and its Falls would be impassable, even to such a machine as this. The only escape was by the Detroit River, and the “Terror” was constantly leaving that farther behind. Then another idea occurred to me. Perhaps the captain was only waiting for night to return to the shore of the lake. There, the boat, changed to an automobile, would quickly cross the neighboring States. If I did not succeed in making my escape, during this passage across the land, all hope of regaining my liberty would be gone. True, I might learn where this Master of the World hid himself. I might learn what no one had yet been able to discover, assuming always that he did not dispose of me at one time or another—and what I expected his “disposal” would be, is easily comprehended.