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"Nothing would give me greater pleasure."
The lieutenant clapped his hands, and an orderly appeared.
"Some wine, ice, and cigarettes," he commanded. He engaged d.i.c.k instantly in conversation as to the prospects of war in South Africa, and was obviously desirous not to discuss personal matters. He was a decent fellow, and an enthusiastic admirer of the British soldier, of whom he had seen a good deal during a visit to Aden, so the talk did not flag till the clatter of hoofs through the vaulted gateway announced the advent of a carriage.
The Governor, a fat, unhealthy-looking man, whose seamed brow and puffy eyelids suggested that negotiations with King Menelek did not const.i.tute the highest form of diplomatic happiness, was pleased to be explicit when d.i.c.k was introduced to him, and he found that the Englishman spoke French.
"After consultation with the Government advocate," he said, "I have decided to release Mr. Fenshawe, whose arrest was due to his persistent defense of Baron Franz von Kerber's undertaking. The latter must remain in custody, and I warn you, and intend to give the same warning to all persons on board your vessel, that a gunboat is patrolling the coast with the most positive instructions to sink the _Aphrodite_ if any attempt be made to land on Italian territory, elsewhere than at a recognized port."
His Excellency had cultivated the habit of plain speaking, which is an essential part of all dealings with Abyssinians. Royson did not attempt to answer him. He asked if Mr. Fenshawe would be set at liberty forthwith, and was a.s.sured that the Governor's own carriage would convey both Mr. Fenshawe and himself to the hotel within a few minutes.
The big little man then vanished, and d.i.c.k soon had the satisfaction of seeing Irene's grandfather escorted to the inner courtyard by a file of soldiers.
It was a singular meeting between the two. Though the yacht-owner was white with anger, he was manifestly pleased at finding Royson there.
"Ah," he said, extending his hand, "I am glad to see you. Does Miss Fenshawe know of this outrage?"
"No, sir. I think not. Indeed, I am almost positive she has not heard of it."
"Then why are you here?"
"Mrs. Haxton sent me with a message to Baron von Kerber."
"Mrs. Haxton probably guessed what would happen. Some scoundrel named Alfieri, who has tried more than once to steal my poor friend's secret, has gained the ear of the Italian foreign minister. Trumped-up allegations have led to cabled orders for von Kerber's arrest, and these wretched organ-grinders in uniform would have lodged every one of us in prison if they dared. Unhappily, the Baron is an Austrian subject, and there will be considerable delay before I can secure his freedom. We must make for Aden at once. I will not trust the cable from Ma.s.sowah. By Jove, I have been a supporter of peace all my life, Mr.
Royson, but it is a lucky thing for this thieves' den that I have not an armed ship now at my disposal, or I would blow their fort out of its foundations."
The older man little knew how this outburst affected Royson. The reference to Alfieri was absolutely staggering. No up-to-date battleship could have demolished the Ma.s.sowah fortress so effectually as Mr. Fenshawe's outspoken wrath crumbled the edifice of doubt built by circ.u.mstances in Royson's mind.
"Things have taken an extraordinary turn, sir," said he, feeling it inc.u.mbent on him to say something.
"They will turn an Italian Governor out of his position before I have done with them," was the determined answer. "Come, Mr. Royson, let us leave this man-trap. I came here In good faith, and I quit the place with the resolution that never again shall I entrust myself to the vagaries of any Jack-in-office who thinks he can browbeat a man of my repute like one of the wretched natives whom he misrules."
Royson had some difficulty in persuading his irate employer to enter the Governor's carriage. Mr. Fenshawe only yielded to the plea that it was a stiff walk to the hotel, and his granddaughter would be consumed with anxiety if any alarming news had reached her meanwhile.
The coachman took them by an open road facing the harbor. The sight of the _Aphrodite_ lying at anchor, trimly elegant in white paint and neatly-furled sails, and sporting the ensign of a famous yacht club, led d.i.c.k to ask if his companion knew that an Italian gunboat was on the lookout for her.
"Oh, yes. His Excellency spared me no details," said Mr. Fenshawe, smiling sarcastically. "If I were a few years younger, and we had no women on board, I would not allow any threats of that sort to hinder me, and I am much mistaken in my officers and men if they refused to back me up. But, as it is, we can do nothing. That is what galls me, my complete helplessness."
"We have no heavy guns, I admit," said d.i.c.k, casting to the winds all thought of leaving the ship under present conditions, "but we have arms and ammunition in plenty to make it hot work for any one in Ma.s.sowah to stop us once we are ash.o.r.e."
The other sighed, whether on account of his vanished youth or the impracticable nature of the scheme, it is hard to say.
"Our weapons are meant only for defense," he said. "Von Kerber wished to guard against Arab hostility--that is all. But I do not despair of obtaining redress from Rome. Surely it cannot be known there that I am the leader of this expedition. It is so wildly absurd to treat _me_ as a filibuster. Why, Mr. Royson, the Italian Archeological Society elected me an honorary vice-president ten years ago."
d.i.c.k had his own views as to the extent of the Aphrodite's armament, but the present was no time to air them. Moreover, he was beginning to see features of the affair that were hard to reconcile with Mr.
Fenshawe's statements. In the first instance, the Governor had acted on specific Instructions, and the Roman authorities must have been well aware of the ident.i.ty of the yacht's owner. Again, the person really aimed at in these high-handed proceedings was von Kerber. The Governor made no secret of the fact that the millionaire was detained solely because he declared himself a princ.i.p.al in the Austrian's enterprise, and it was no small token of official regret at an unpleasant incident that they were now driving to the hotel in His Excellency's private carriage. Finally, none but a man angry and humiliated would deny the right of Italy to forbid the pa.s.sage through her colonial territory of a foreign force such as von Kerber had provided, a force equipped to an extent and in a manner that Mr. Fenshawe, in all likelihood, had slight knowledge of.
So d.i.c.k listened in silence to his companion's vows of diplomatic vengeance. He was resolved to talk matters over with Miss Fenshawe before he said a word about Alfieri or the news he had received from London. In fact, he had little doubt that a night's reflection would render her grandfather amenable to reason. If there were charges against von Kerber, let them be brought to light. If they were true, the Italian Foreign Office was justified in its action: if false, there would be such a hubbub that the resultant apologies would certainly be accompanied by the offer of every a.s.sistance to the objects of the expedition.
When they drew near the hotel, Royson saw Irene watching the main street anxiously from the balcony. It was rather remarkable that she should be alone, but all other thoughts were swept aside by the sight of the joy which lit her face when the carriage stopped at the portico and she learned that her grandfather had arrived from an opposite direction.
They heard her glad cry of surprise, and she hastened to meet them.
"Good gracious, grandad," she said, "where have you been? I have waited here for you ever so long, wondering what had become of you."
"The Governor was such an affable person that he refused to let me go,"
said Mr. Fenshawe grimly. "He has detained the Baron altogether. But let us go up-stairs. I am pining for that long-deferred tea. Where is Mrs. Haxton?"
"She is ill, I am afraid. She found the heat and noise too much for her. Half an hour ago she asked Captain Stump to take her to the yacht.
Of course I told her I didn't mind being left here until some one came.
But the funny part of it is that, although I was looking from the veranda, I failed to see either her or the captain leave the hotel."
By this time they were free from inquisitive eyes or ears, and Mr.
Fenshawe proceeded to amaze the girl with a full recital of his disagreeable adventure. Royson noticed that she gave no heed whatever to his share in it. Her att.i.tude was tinged with a slight disdain, and he began to feel miserably depressed until it occurred to him that she probably resented his departure on Mrs. Haxton's errand without letting her know. That was consoling, to an extent. He was sure she would forgive him when he had an opportunity of telling her exactly what had happened.
They were so engrossed in their conclave that a servant entered with lamps before they realized that daylight had waned and night was falling with the rapidity of the tropics. Mr. Fenshawe leaped up from his chair with an alertness that belied his years.
"I must break my resolution and send at least one cablegram from Ma.s.sowah," he cried. "It will be harmless enough to escape mutilation, as it is to my London office directing that all correspondence must be addressed to Aden in future. You will take it for me, Royson, and pay the cost?"
d.i.c.k went off as soon as the message was ready. Irene avoided him ostentatiously while her grandfather was writing, and thereby laid herself open to the unjust suspicion that she was flirting with him. In very truth, she was torn with misgiving, and Royson's share in her thoughts was even less than he imagined. Her quick brain divined that the arrest of von Kerber had only strengthened the Austrian's claim on Mr. Fenshawe's sympathies. Like all generous-souled men, her grandfather ran to extremes, and she felt that it was hopeless now to try and shake his faith in one whom he regarded as the victim of persecution.
"Will Captain Stump come back for dinner?" inquired Mr. Fenshawe, after he had glanced through the letters which Irene brought to him.
"I hope so. Mrs. Haxton went off in such a hurry that I forgot to mention it."
"Was it illness, or anxiety, that sent her to the yacht?"
"A little of both, I fancy. But why should she be anxious? She did not know that matters had gone wrong at the fort."
"I think she made a shrewd guess, but was unwilling to alarm you. That is why she sent Mr. Royson after us. By the way, what, did she tell him to do?"
"I have no idea," said Irene coldly.
"That is odd, distinctly odd. I meant to ask him, but forgot it in my excitement."
"He will be here in a few minutes," said she, with a livelier interest.
There was a knock at the door. A negro waiter had something to say, and she gathered from a jumble of Italian and Arabic that a native wished to see the Signora Haxton. The man p.r.o.nounced the name plainly, so there could be no mistake as to his meaning, and Irene answered:
"The Signora is not here."
Mr. Fenshawe was immersed in his letters again, but he looked up.
"What is it?" he demanded.
"Some man is asking for Mrs. Haxton," she told him.
"Better go and interview him. If he can tell us anything, bring him here."
She went down-stairs with the attendant. He pointed to a m.u.f.fled Arab near the door, who salaamed deeply the instant she appeared.