The Island Mystery Part 24

Gorman listened with every appearance of deference and docility, while von Moll explained the Prussian way of dealing with people like the Irish.

The Queen could not cut the dinner short. Smith had provided many courses and it was impossible to skip any of them. But at the earliest possible moment she got up and left the room. Gorman closed the door behind her and then drew his chair close to that on which von Moll was sitting. Smith brought in coffee and liqueurs. Gorman took the brandy bottle off the tray and set it on the table at von Moll's elbow. Smith made an effort to recover the bottle and carry it away.

He seemed to think that von Moll had had enough to drink. Gorman was of the same opinion, but he did not allow Smith to carry off the brandy bottle. He thought that von Moll might be very interesting if he took rather more than enough to drink. When Smith, after hovering about for some time, left the room, Gorman refilled von Moll's gla.s.s.

"Silly little thing, Miss Donovan," he said, in a confidential tone.

"That is so," said von Moll.

"In Germany," said Gorman, "you put that sort of young person into her place at once, I suppose."

"In Germany," said von Moll, "she would not exist."

He spoke with ponderous gravity. Gorman was pleased to see that he was becoming more ponderous as he drank gla.s.s after gla.s.s of brandy.

"That cave incident, for instance," said Gorman. "I call it cheek her trying to get into the cave when you had sentries posted outside to stop her. By the way, what had you in the cave that you didn't want her to see? A girl?"

Von Moll leered in a most disgusting manner. Gorman poured him out another gla.s.s of brandy.

"You naval men," he said, "you're always the same. No girl can resist you. But, I say, you'd really better keep it dark about that man of yours getting his teeth knocked out. If there were any kind of inquiry and it came out about your being in the cave with one of the island girls----"

"There was no girl in the cave," said von Moll.

"Come now! I won't give you away. Between ourselves. We are both men of the world."

"I have said. There was no girl."

"Oh well," said Gorman, "I suppose you were writing poetry and didn't want to be disturbed. What was it? An ode to the Fatherland, 'Oh, Deutschland, Deutschland!'--that kind of thing."

Von Moll strongly suspected that Gorman was laughing at him again. It seemed almost incredible that any one would dare to do such a thing, but Gorman was plainly an irresponsible person.

"I was," said von Moll, "carrying out the orders of the Emperor."

"The Emperor again," said Gorman. "But this time it won't do. It really won't. You can't expect me to believe that the Emperor sent you all the way to Salissa to write poetry in a cave."

"There was no poetry. The Emperor's orders were not about poetry. They were about----"

Von Moll stopped abruptly and winked at Gorman with drunken solemnity.

"I don't give your Emperor credit for much intelligence," said Gorman, "but he must surely have more sense than to give orders of any kind about a cave in an out-of-the-way potty little island like this. Why can't you tell the truth, von Moll?"

Von Moll straightened himself in his chair and glared at Gorman. His eyes were wide open, so wide that a rim of white showed all round the pupils. His forehead was deeply wrinkled. His nostrils were distended.

"_Gott in Himmel!_" he said, "you doubt my word."

Gorman chuckled. Von Moll was decidedly amusing when partially drunk.

His glare--he continued to glare in the most ferocious manner--was a most exciting thing to see.

"There is no use looking at me like that," said Gorman. "I shan't fight. I never do. I'm not that kind of man. The fact is I don't like fighting."

"I believe it," said von Moll.

He spoke with a sneer, a heavily accentuated sneer. It was more like the sneer of the villain of old-fashioned melodrama than anything Gorman had ever seen.

"If you want a sc.r.a.p," said Gorman, "really want it, you know, you ought to knock up Phillips on your way back to your boat. He's the first officer of the _Ida_. He'll take you on. He's six foot one and weighs about fourteen stone. He'll simply wipe the floor with you; so unless you're really keen on fighting some one you'd perhaps better leave him alone."

"I stay here no longer," said von Moll.

He rose and crossed the room quite steadily, but putting his feet down with extreme care. He reached the door and bowed to Gorman.

Gorman leaned back in his chair and lit a cigar. He had enjoyed the evening. He had also found out something that he wanted to know. The Emperor really did intend to make use of the island of Salissa in some way. He wondered whether the cave which the Queen had been forbidden to enter was the same cave which contained the iron cisterns.

The Queen, sitting at her window, heard von Moll leave the house and go down the steps towards the landing place. Smith was with him, seeing him safely to the boat which waited for him.

"So," said von Moll, "I telegraph to Berlin and I forward your letters."

He spoke in German, but he spoke very deliberately, p.r.o.nouncing each word carefully. The Queen had no difficulty in understanding what he said. Smith replied in a much lower tone. She could not hear him.

"_Ach_," said von Moll, "the old man is a fool, good. And the girl--do you know, Fritz, I think I shall marry the girl!"

The Queen shut her window. She had no wish to hear more of von Moll's plans. She was insulted and very angry. It was not until she thought the matter over coolly next day that it occurred to her as strange that von Moll should have addressed Smith as Fritz. The man's Christian name was Edward.

CHAPTER XVIII

I am uncomfortably aware that this history of recent events in Salissa is sadly deficient in the matter of dates. I am not to blame. If I could I should date each chapter accurately. Unfortunately, not one of the people chiefly concerned kept a diary. They all remember events very well and are most willing to describe them for me, but they cannot remember exactly when things happened. I am therefore particularly pleased to be able at this point to give two definite dates. The _Ida_ arrived at Salissa with Gorman on board on July 8.

She left again on July 11. I dragged this information out of Captain Wilson. He no longer has access to the _Ida's_ log-books. They pa.s.sed into Steinwitz' hands and disappeared when his office was closed at the outbreak of war. But Captain Wilson kept a private notebook. He referred to it, with considerable reluctance, when I pressed him.

Taking these two dates as fixed, we are able to say for certain that von Moll reached the island during the night of July 7 and 8, ten days after the Serajevo a.s.sa.s.sinations. He was occupied with his business in the cave all day of July 8. He left Salissa early on July 9. He might easily have made any one of three or four ports on the mainland before evening that day. A telegram sent to Berlin might have been in the hands of some responsible person that night. Smith's letters would follow at once by a special messenger. We may take it that the Emperor's secret service agents, perhaps the Emperor himself, knew on July 10 that the island would not be resold to King Konrad Karl.

The sailing of the _Ida_ so soon as three days after her arrival puzzled me at first. Captain Wilson would say nothing except that he obeyed orders. As a matter of fact he seems to have worried everybody until he got the order he wanted. The _Ida_ carried very little cargo to the island on her second voyage and was unloaded in a few hours.

Captain Wilson received from the Queen the lists she had prepared of tools, engines and material for carrying out her schemes of improvement. He was given a few letters by Donovan and by Smith. Then there was no reason why he should not start.

Nor was there any reason why Gorman should not have gone with him. It was, indeed, plainly Gorman's duty to get back to England as quickly as possible. His mission had completely failed. The Queen would not sell the island. She would certainly not marry Konrad Karl. Ireland was at the moment pa.s.sing through a crisis, and Gorman, as one of her statesmen, ought to have been at hand with advice. But Gorman--he owes a good deal of his attractiveness to this--never allows himself to be hampered by words like "ought" and "duty."

An Irish crisis is an interesting thing; but it is by no means uncommon, and the details are always more or less the same. The affairs of Salissa had certain novel features which were exceedingly attractive and Gorman had never before had an opportunity of mixing himself up in foreign politics. English statesmen, especially Liberals, who regard Ireland with serious intensity of feeling, offer great opportunities to men of Gorman's temperament. But he thought that still more amus.e.m.e.nt might be obtained by playing politics with people like Steinwitz, von Moll, and the immensely pompous Emperor.

Donovan was anxious that Gorman should stay on the island. He listened, reluctantly, to all the Queen had to tell him. He heard about the cisterns in the cave. He was told of von Moll's mysterious activities, of Smith's suspicious conduct, of the Emperor's fixed determination to get the island back for Konrad Karl. He professed to regard the whole business as a bore.

"Buried treasure, pirate h.o.a.rds and other mysteries," he said, "have no kind of attraction for me. I feel sort of discouraged when they bubble up round me. You're young, Daisy, and naturally inclined to romantic joys. Just you b.u.t.t in and worry round according to your own fancy. There's only one thing I'd rather you didn't do. Don't get interfering in any serious way with Smith. Smith's a valuable man."

Later on he spoke to Gorman.

"As a public man," he said, "your time has got value. You're wanted, Gorman, and that's a fact. The cause of Ireland is a sacred trust and I'm not speaking against it; but if a subscription to the party funds would set you free for a month----Now can another patriot be hired at a reasonable salary to take your place? If he can, you name the figure and I'll write the cheque. The fact is, it'll be a mighty convenient thing to me if you'll take hold of things here. Daisy's dead set on unearthing mysteries. I don't say there aren't any mysteries. There may be. But it doesn't suit me to be wrapped up in them. Then I understand that one of your European monarchs is fidgeting round, wanting to take this island off my hands. Daisy says he's an Emperor.

Now I won't have emperors worrying me. I've never gone in for emperors to any extent, and I'm not inclined to begin now. I'm a plain American citizen with democratic principles and a disordered heart. I'd be obliged to you, Gorman, if you'd stay here and kind of elbow off that Emperor when he intrudes. There's only one point about which I'd like you to be careful. I mentioned it to Daisy. She tells me that Smith answers to the name of Fritz and she regards that as a suspicious circ.u.mstance. Now, it doesn't matter a cent to me whether Smith calls himself Fritz or Leonardo da Vinci or Ivanovitch Ivanokoff. So long as he isn't signing cheques one name is as good as another. And if Smith writes letters to the Emperor--that's what Daisy says--I don't see that it hurts me any. Every man has his own little pleasures, and in a free country he oughtn't to be hindered in the pursuit. I've known men who collected stamps. It seemed foolish to me, but it didn't interfere with me. Same thing with Smith. I don't happen to care about writing letters to emperors, but Smith does. See?"

Gorman did not want to worry or annoy Smith in any way. He recognized the man's value. His mind was more actively curious than Donovan's. He wanted to know what was going on, what von Moll had been doing, what the Emperor aimed at, what Smith's real business was, but he also appreciated, no less than Donovan, good food, comfort and smooth service. He liked to be sure that his wants would be supplied, his wishes antic.i.p.ated, his habits intelligently studied. Without Smith life on Salissa would be robbed of a great deal which made it attractive.