The colonel, signing to his guests to follow, led the way
to the apartment occupied jointly by himself and the major,

which, although only a kind of casemate hollowed in the rock,
nevertheless wore a general air of comfort. Major Oliphant

accompanied them, and all four having taken their seats,
the conversation was commenced.

Irritated and disgusted at all the cold formalities,
Hector Servadac resolved to leave all the talking to the count;

and he, quite aware that the Englishmen would adhere to the fiction
that they could be supposed to know nothing that had transpired

previous to the introduction felt himself obliged to recapitulate
matters from the very beginning.

"You must be aware, gentlemen," began the count, "that a most
singular catastrophe occurred on the 1st of January last.

Its cause, its limits we have utterly failed to discover,
but from the appearance of the island on which we find you here,

you have evidentlyexperienced its devastating consequences."
The Englishmen, in silence, bowed assent.

"Captain Servadac, who accompanies me," continued the count,
"has been most severely tried by the disaster. Engaged as he was

in an important mission as a staff-officer in Algeria--"
"A French colony, I believe," interposed Major Oliphant, half shutting

his eyes with an expression of supreme indifference.
Servadac was on the point of making some cutting retort,

but Count Timascheff, without allowing the interruption to be noticed,
calmly continued his narrative:

"It was near the mouth of the Shelif that a portion of Africa, on that
eventful night, was transformed into an island which alone survived;

the rest of the vast continent disappeared as completely as if it
had never been."

The announcement seemed by no means startling to the phlegmatic colonel.
"Indeed!" was all he said.

"And where were you?" asked Major Oliphant.
"I was out at sea, cruising in my yacht; hard by; and I look upon

it as a miracle, and nothing less, that I and my crew escaped
with our lives."

"I congratulate you on your luck," replied the major.
The count resumed: "It was about a month after the great disruption

that I was sailing--my engine having sustained some damage in the shock--
along the Algerian coast, and had the pleasure of meeting with my

previous acquaintance, Captain Servadac, who was resident upon the island
with his orderly, Ben Zoof."

"Ben who?" inquired the major.
"Zoof! Ben Zoof!" ejaculated Servadac, who could scarcely shout

loud enough to relieve his pent-up feelings.
Ignoring this ebullition of the captain's spleen, the count went on to say:

"Captain Servadac was naturally most anxious to get what news he could.
Accordingly, he left his servant on the island in charge of his horses,

and came on board the _Dobryna_ with me. We were quite at a loss to know
where we should steer, but decided to direct our course to what previously

had been the east, in order that we might, if possible, discover the colony
of Algeria; but of Algeria not a trace remained."

The colonel curled his lip, insinuating only too plainly that to him
it was by no means surprising that a French colony should be wanting

in the element of stability. Servadac observed the supercilious look,
and half rose to his feet, but, smothering his resentment, took his seat

again without speaking.
"The devastation, gentlemen," said the count, who persistently refused

to recognize the Frenchman's irritation, "everywhere was terrible
and complete. Not only was Algeria lost, but there was no trace of Tunis,

except one solitary rock, which was crowned by an ancient tomb of one
of the kings of France--"

"Louis the Ninth, I presume," observed the colonel.
"Saint Louis," blurted out Servadac, savagely.

Colonel Murphy slightly smiled.
Proof against all interruption, Count Timascheff, as if he had not heard it,

went on without pausing. He related how the schooner had pushed her way
onwards to the south, and had reached the Gulf of Cabes; and how she had

ascertained for certain that the Sahara Sea had no longer an existence.
The smile of disdain again crossed the colonel's face;

he could not conceal his opinion that such a destiny for the work
of a Frenchman could be no matter of surprise.

"Our next discovery," continued the count, "was that a new coast
had been upheaved right along in front of the coast of Tripoli,

the geologicalformation of which was altogether strange, and which
extended to the north as far as the proper place of Malta."

"And Malta," cried Servadac, unable to control himself any longer;
"Malta--town, forts, soldiers, governor, and all--has vanished

just like Algeria."
For a moment a cloud rested upon the colonel's brow, only to give

place to an expression of decided incredulity.
"The statement seems highly incredible," he said.

"Incredible?" repeated Servadac. "Why is it that you doubt my word?"
The captain's rising wrath did not prevent the colonel from replying coolly,

"Because Malta belongs to England."
"I can't help that," answered Servadac, sharply; "it has gone

just as utterly as if it had belonged to China."
Colonel Murphy turned deliberately away from Servadac,

and appealed to the count: "Do you not think you may have made
some error, count, in reckoning the bearings of your yacht?"

"No, colonel, I am quite certain of my reckonings; and not only can
I testify that Malta has disappeared, but I can affirm that a large

section of the Mediterranean has been closed in by a new continent.
After the most anxiousinvestigation, we could discover only one narrow

opening in all the coast, and it is by following that little channel
that we have made our way hither. England, I fear, has suffered grievously

by the late catastrophe. Not only has Malta been entirely lost,
but of the Ionian Islands that were under England's protection,

there seems to be but little left."
"Ay, you may depend upon it," said Servadac, breaking in upon

the conversation petulantly, "your grand resident lord high
commissioner has not much to congratulate himself about in

the condition of Corfu."
The Englishmen were mystified.

"Corfu, did you say?" asked Major Oliphant.
"Yes, Corfu; I said Corfu," replied Servadac, with a sort

of malicious triumph.
The officers were speechless with astonishment.

The silence of bewilderment was broken at length by Count Timascheff
making inquiry whether nothing had been heard from England,

either by telegraph or by any passing ship.
"No," said the colonel; "not a ship has passed; and the cable is broken."

"But do not the Italian telegraphs assist you?" continued the count.
"Italian! I do not comprehend you. You must mean the Spanish, surely."

"How?" demanded Timascheff.
"Confound it!" cried the impatient Servadac. "What matters whether

it be Spanish or Italian? Tell us, have you had no communication
at all from Europe?--no news of any sort from London?"

"Hitherto, none whatever," replied the colonel; adding with a
stately emphasis, "but we shall be sure to have tidings from

England before long."
"Whether England is still in existence or not, I suppose,"

said Servadac, in a tone of irony.
The Englishmen started simultaneously to their feet.

"England in existence?" the colonel cried. "England! Ten times
more probable that France--"

"France!" shouted Servadac in a passion. "France is not an island that
can be submerged; France is an integral portion of a solid continent.

France, at least, is safe."
A scene appeared inevitable, and Count Timascheff's efforts to conciliate

the excited parties were of small avail.
"You are at home here," said Servadac, with as much calmness

as he could command; "it will be advisable, I think,
for this discussion to be carried on in the open air."

And hurriedly he left the room. Followed immediately by the others,
he led the way to a level piece of ground, which he considered