"It doesn't matter. It will be too late for any one to prevent its going off."
"That's true. There will be some excitement among those we have left behind, won't there?"
"Rather! How long do you reckon it will be before they hear of us?"
"The first news will get in at about midnight at earliest."
"That will be my doing."
"No, mine."
"Ha, ha! we'll settle that."
There was a pause here. Then I heard Muller's voice in a ghastly whisper, "There's only five minutes more."
How slowly the moments seemed to pass! I could count them by the throbbing of my heart.
"It'll make a sensation on land," said a voice.
"Yes, it will make a noise in the newspapers."
I raised my head and peered over the side of the boat. There seemed no hope, no help. Death stared me in the face, whether I did or did not give the alarm. The Captain had at last left the bridge. The deck was deserted, save for those two dark figures crouching in the shadow of the boat.
Flannigan had a watch lying open in his hand.
"Three minutes more," he said. "Put it down upon the deck."
"No, put it here on the bulwarks."
It was the little square box. I knew by the sound that they had placed it near the davit, and almost exactly under my head.
