The Island Mystery Part 25

When Gorman made up his mind to stay on Salissa he wrote three letters. One of them was to King Konrad Karl and was addressed to an hotel in Paris. He said briefly that the Donovans would not sell the island and that it was not the least use trying to arrange a marriage with the Queen. He advised the King to enjoy himself as much as he could in Paris and to spend his money before it was taken from him. He added a postscript.

"If the Emperor sends a man called von Moll to negotiate with you--a sort of naval officer who likes giving orders--ask him whether he had many casualties in his last sea battle."

His next letter was to Steinwitz. In it, too, he announced the complete failure of his mission.

"The fact is," he added, by way of explanation, "that these Americans don't know enough about your Emperor to be properly impressed. Could you send along a good-sized photo of him, in uniform if possible? I am sure it would have a great effect."

Then he wrote to Sir Bartholomew Bland-Potterton. Knowing how all members of our governing cla.s.ses delight in official fussiness he threw his letter into a telegraphic form.

"Things more complicated than antic.i.p.ated," he wrote. "Will Government recognize Salissa as independent state? Query att.i.tude President U. S. A. Urgent.--GORMAN."

He read over what he had written with extreme satisfaction. It pleased him to think that Steinwitz would immediately go out and buy an enormous photograph of the Emperor; that he would send it out to Salissa with perfect confidence in the effect it would produce. It was also pleasant to think of Konrad Karl and Madame Ypsilante making efforts to get rid of the remains of Donovan's money by scattering it about the streets of Paris. But his despatch to Bland-Potterton pleased him most of all. He imagined that gentleman, swollen with the consciousness of important news, dashing off to the Foreign Office in a taxi-cab, posing Ministers of State with unanswerable conundrums, very probably ruffling the calm waters of Washington with cablegrams of inordinate length and fierce urgency.

He rang the bell for Smith.

"I've just written some letters," he said; "will you send them off to the _Ida_ and ask Captain Wilson to have them posted when he arrives in London or earlier if he calls at any intermediate port."

"Yes, sir. Certainly, sir. Beg pardon, sir, but will you be staying on in the palace?"

"For a week or two, Smith."

"Thank you, sir. I'll make all arrangements. Your luggage will be fetched from the steamer. If you leave your keys with me I'll see to the unpacking."

Gorman had no keys.

"By the way, Smith, what's your Christian name?"

"Edward, sir."

"I asked," said Gorman, "because I'd a sort of idea that Captain von Moll called you Fritz last night."

"Very likely, sir. I didn't notice. It struck me, sir--I don't know whether you noticed it--that the German gentleman wasn't quite himself after dinner. He might have called me Fritz, mistaking me for some one else. I understand, sir, that Fritz is a common name in Germany."

"Very likely," said Gorman.

Smith left the room. In ten minutes he was back again.

"Luncheon is served, sir. In the small verandah at the south end of the palace. Shall I show you the way?"

He guided Gorman to the small verandah, a pleasant, shady place, opening off the room in which they had dined the night before.

"Is the Queen coming?" asked Gorman.

"I've sent a maid to inform her Majesty the luncheon is served, sir."

Smith stood ready for his duties at the end of the table. Gorman noticed that three places had been laid.

"Mr. Donovan coming?" he asked.

"No, sir. Mr. Donovan scarcely feels well enough. I'm expecting Mr.

Phillips, sir. He's with her Majesty."

"Ah," said Gorman. "They may be late."

They were late. A quarter of an hour late. Gorman guessed the reason at once. No formal announcement was made, but he felt certain that in the course of the morning they had arrived at a satisfactory understanding and were engaged to be married. Gorman felt satisfied that the Emperor's plan for the Queen's future was not quite hopeless.

Luncheon was a difficult meal for him. He did his best to keep up a conversation, but neither the Queen nor Phillips seemed capable of understanding what he said. If they answered him at all they said things which were totally irrelevant. For the most part they did not answer. They gazed at each other a good deal and Gorman detected Phillips trying to hold the Queen's hand under the table. Philips dropped his fork three times. The Queen looked very pretty, much prettier than she had the night before when she was angry with von Moll.

Gorman, in spite of his cynicism, is a kind-hearted man. It gave him a great deal of pleasure to see a girl and a boy in a condition of almost delirious happiness. But he felt that they ought not to be entirely selfish. They intended, apparently, to go off after luncheon, to a distant part of the island, accompanied by Kalliope, whom they could not well shake off. Gorman did not want to be left alone all the afternoon.

"What about going to that cave?" he said. "I'd rather like to find out what von Moll was doing there yesterday."

The Queen and Phillips looked at each other. They had done little less except look at each other since they came in to luncheon. But this time they looked with a new expression. Instead of fatuous felicity, their faces suggested disappointment.

"I think we ought to do it," Gorman went on. "That fellow may have been up to any kind of mischief. By the way, is his cave the one the cisterns are in?"

"Yes," said the Queen.

"That seems to me to settle it," said Gorman. "We certainly ought to take the matter up vigorously and at once."

"I suppose so," said Phillips.

Gorman was really anxious to find out what had been going on in the cave. The fact that von Moll had been acting under the Emperor's orders stimulated curiosity. It had been puzzling enough to discover, in England, that the Emperor was very anxious to remove the Donovans from the island, and was prepared to adopt all sorts of tortuous ways to get rid of them. It was much more puzzling to find a German naval officer engaged in storing large quant.i.ties of rubber tubing in a cave. Gorman confesses that he was utterly unable to make any sort of guess at the meaning of the affair. He was all the more anxious to begin his investigation.

The Queen and Phillips cheered up a little when the party started for the cave. Kalliope rowed, as usual. Gorman--all successful politicians are men of tact--settled himself in the bow of the boat. The Queen and Phillips were together in the stern and held each other's hands.

Gorman pretended to look at the scenery. Kalliope made no pretence at all. She watched the lovers with a sympathetic smile. She was in no way embarra.s.sed by them.

No one--I judge by Gorman's description--was ever more helplessly in love than Phillips. But even he was roused to other feelings when the boat grounded on the stony beach in the cave. He slipped his hand from the Queen's and sprang ash.o.r.e. Even from the boat, before crossing the steep stretch of stones, there were some interesting things to be seen. Von Moll had left his rubber tubing in three great coils in front of the cisterns. Gorman and the Queen followed Phillips. The three stood together and stared at the hose. Phillips estimated that there must have been three or four hundred yards of it. The ends of each coil were fitted with bra.s.s caps intended to screw together. Any one of them might have been screwed to the c.o.c.ks of the cisterns.

There were also many large packing-cases, stacked at the end of the row of cisterns. These were strong, well-made cases and carefully nailed up. The only tool possessed by the party was Phillips' clasp knife, a serviceable instrument for many purposes, but no use for opening well-secured packing-cases. Gorman fetched one of the iron rowlocks from the boat, but nothing could be done with it. The cases were very heavy. Gorman and Phillips together could not lift one. It seemed likely that they contained metal of some sort.

The cisterns stood exactly where the Queen and Phillips had seen them before. But now they were full instead of being empty. Phillips and then Gorman tapped them one after another. They were all full, up to the very tops. Phillips wasted no time in speculating about what they contained. The rubber hose was unintelligible. The packing-cases could not be opened. It was at all events possible to find out what the cisterns contained. Phillips turned on one of the taps. A thin, strongly smelling liquid streamed out.

"I know that smell," said the Queen. "It's--it's----"

It is extraordinarily difficult to recognize a smell in such a way as to say definitely what it belongs to. Phillips and Gorman sniffed.

Like the Queen they knew the smell but could not name it. It was Gorman who fixed it first.

"Petrol," he said.

"Of course," said the Queen. "I knew I recognized it."

"That's it," said Phillips. "I was thinking of Elliman's Embrocation; but it's petrol, of course."

"There must be gallons of it here," said Gorman. "Thousands of gallons."

Phillips, stretching his arms wide, began to make rough measurements of the cisterns.