"We must embark. The time is joost right. A day sooner and the egsperiment would haf been spoilt; but now"--he laughed--"let the island sink, we do not care. We must embark hastily." "It'll take a man long time to carry down all your things, Perfessor." "Oh, led them go! The eruption has alretty swallowed them oop. The lava iss by now a foot deep in the valley. Before long it flows here, so we must embark." "But you've lost all them vallyable things, Perfessor," said Handy Solomon. "Now, I call that hard luck." Dr. Schermerhorn snapped his fingers. "They do not amoundt to that!" he cried. "Here, here, in this leetle box iss all the treasure! Here iss the labour of ten years! Here iss the _Laughing Lass_, and the crew, and all the equipmendt comprised. Here iss the world!" "I'm a plain seaman, Perfessor, and I suppose I got to believe you; but she's a main small box for all that." "With that small box you can haf all your wishes," asserted the Professor, still in the German lyric strain over his triumph. "It iss the box of enchantments. You haf but to will the change you would haf taig place--it iss done. The substance of the rocks, the molecule--all!" "Could a man make diamonds?" asked Pulz abruptly. I could hear the sharp intake of the men's breathing as they hung on the reply. "Much more wonderful changes than that it can accomplish," replied the doctor, with an indulgent laugh. "That change iss simple. Carbon iss coal; carbon iss diamond. You see? One has but to change the form, not the substance." "Then it'll change coal to diamonds?" asked Handy Solomon. "Yes, you gather my meanings--" I heard a sharp squeak like a terrified mouse. Then a long, dreadful silence; then two dull, heavy blows, spaced with deliberation. A moment later I caught a glimpse of Handy Solomon bent forward to the labour of dragging a body toward the sea, his steel claw hooked under the angle of the jaw as a man handles a fish. Pulz came and threw off my bonds and gag. "Come along!" said he. All kept looking fearfully toward the arroyo. A dense white steam marked its course. The air was now heavy with portent. Successive explosions, some light, some severe, shook the foundations of the island. Great rocks and boulders bounded down the hills. The flashes of lightning had become more frequent. We moved, exaggerated to each other's vision by the strange light, uncouth and gigantic. "Let's get out of this!" cried Thrackles.