AN UNEXPECTED ALLY.
Annie trembled violently when she saw Hugh Stavanger disappearing with
the balloon, and for a moment seemed almost fainting with excitement.
“Courage, my darling,” said her father. “He can hardly escape us now,
for I will at once take steps to have him arrested as soon as the
balloon descends. Now your desire to see this balloon ascent is
partially accounted for. Oh, here is Major Colbrook. Do you know, sir,
the man of whom we are in search is actually in that balloon?”
“Are you sure?”
“Quite sure. We have taken note of his appearance too closely to mistake
any other man for him. We have also heard some news about him this
afternoon, and have secured a witness who saw him with the stolen
diamonds in his possession.”
“By jove, you are getting on. I suppose there had better be no time
lost in seeing after his capture as soon as the balloon descends. But
where, in the name of fortune, is it going to? Why--it’s going right out
to sea!”
Others had noticed also that a catastrophe seemed to be impending, and
intense excitement prevailed, which became augmented when the balloon
was lost sight of altogether. As we know, darkness came on while the
aeronauts were still being whirled away from the steamer which was to
have overtaken them, and they would have perished but for the opportune
arrival of the ss. “Centurion.”
The Corys were dreadfully disappointed at this fresh freak of fate. To
lose their prize when it seemed so nearly within their grasp was a blow
sufficient to shake their hope of ever being able to help Harley, for
everything worked against them.
“I am afraid your chances of laying your hands on Stavanger, junior, are
gone,” said Major Colbrook, when he called to see our friends the next
morning.
“How so?” inquired Mr. Cory.
“Well, none of the ships that have come in this morning have sighted the
balloon. The probability is that it has come to grief, and that the men
are all drowned or killed. I am sorry for the other fellows, but
sympathy would be wasted on a scoundrel who would swear another man’s
liberty away for a crime he has committed himself.”
“Perhaps so. But, if Stavanger has perished, the proofs of his guilt
will have been lost with him, and that will be a very serious thing for
us.”
“But you have a witness in the shape of the jeweller, who can prove that
the diamonds were offered to him for sale.”
“There you are wrong. Unless we can secure some of them, we cannot show
reasonable proof that these are the identical diamonds that were
stolen.”
“I think, father, that the sooner we look after that ship-captain the
better. You know we were told that he also had some jewels for sale. As
he was in Hugh Stavanger’s company, I expect he had exacted them as the
price of his silence or his help. If we can find him, it may turn out
that we can do without the diamond merchant’s son. Our present object
must be to expedite Harley’s liberation. The punishment of the
wrong-doers can follow after.”
“Bravo, Miss Cory. You have hit the nail on the head,” exclaimed the
major. “Look here, we know the name of the ship, and that she has left
Malta. Let’s go to the harbour-master, and find out where she cleared
for. You may be able to catch her at the next discharging port. Before
you could overtake the ‘Merry Maid’ now she will be loaded and away. So
you must find out somehow where she is bound for.”
As Major Colbrook’s advice was considered good, it was acted upon at
once, but the result of the inquiries made was somewhat disappointing.
The “Merry Maid” had gone to Barcelona, and from there to Gibraltar for
orders, and what those orders were would take some little time to
discover.
“Have you the ‘Shipping Gazette’?” inquired the major.
“No, sir; we don’t go in for that much, and I have no recent copies by
me. I’ll tell you what, though; if it is very important that you should
know where the ‘Merry Maid’ is, why don’t you cable to the owners?”
“A very good idea, if I knew where to cable to,” said Mr. Cory. “But I
have not the slightest notion who the owners are.”
“There I am better informed than you,” put in Annie, eagerly. “Hilton
gave me the name and address of the owners, and I have them here in my
note-book.”
“Capital!” cried the major. “We shall manage it yet. Now for the
address.”
“Messrs. Rose and Gibney, agents, Great Water Street, London.”
“Good. The next thing is to decide what to say. You don’t want your own
name to figure, I suppose? No? I thought not. Then you had better cable
in my name, and direct the reply to come to my house.”
After a little delay, the following message was sent to Messrs. Rose and
Gibney:--“At what port, and when, is ‘Merry Maid’ due?”
The answer to this, which had been prepaid, was--“Due at Cardiff, 4th
proximo, from Antwerp, to load for Port Said.”
“Splendid. That will suit you to a T,” exclaimed the major. “You can
stay here two or three weeks, to give yourself time to hunt up as much
information as possible about Stavanger. Then, failing success, you can
proceed from here direct to Port Said, and board the ‘Merry Maid’ in the
canal. By the time you get to Cardiff, the vessel might have started on
her voyage, so your surest chance of success lies in waiting for this
Captain Cochrane at his port of destination. And I think you had better
take the authorities into your confidence. They might help you to find
Stavanger.”
It was agreed to follow Major Colbrook’s advice in the main, but our
friends preferred to go on to Port Said without much more delay.
“Hugh Stavanger probably saw us,” said Annie. “If so, he will not come
back to Malta.”
“Perhaps not, but you have no guarantee that your supposition as to his
having seen you is correct. And you will surely not leave here till news
of some sort respecting the balloonists arrives.”
“No; it will be better to wait a little while.”
That a little patience was advisable, was proved when the particulars of
the rescue of the balloonists came to hand. When, however, the Corys
learned that Hugh Stavanger was not returning to Malta, they left the
island for Port Said as soon as it could be managed. But here they were
baffled again, as by the time they landed, the man whom they sought was
already on his way to Bombay, and no efforts of theirs could discover a
trace of him.
“We must remain here now until the ‘Merry Maid’ arrives,” said Annie.
“Meanwhile, it strikes me that we have been acting very clumsily. To
give a different name to ship captains and hotel proprietors is not
enough. We must disguise ourselves effectually. It is quite possible
that Hugh Stavanger recognised me at Valetta, and that but for that
misfortune he would have been brought to book by this time. Such a
blunder must not be made again. We have a great stake to play for, and
we intend to win.”
“You are right, Annie. If the fellow suspects us, he will look out for
us, so we must circumvent him by losing ourselves, as it were.”
The result of the conversation that now ensued between father and
daughter was a complete change in the appearance of both of them, and
those who could recognise Mr. Cory or his daughter in the elderly
clergyman who was supposed to be the tutor and travelling guide of the
rather delicate-looking young Englishman who accompanied him would have
to be extremely wide-awake. There was no cessation of watchfulness on
the part of the so-called Rev. Alexander Bootle and Mr. Ernest Fraser.
But very little that was of special interest to them occurred during
their stay in Port Said, and they were very glad when at last the “Merry
Maid” appeared in the port. Duly armed with the necessary authority, the
Rev. Mr. Bootle, accompanied by an officer of the law, went on board the
steamer the moment it was possible to do so, his object being the arrest
of Captain Cochrane, on the charge of being accessory after the fact to
the great diamond robbery in Hatton Garden.
Picture his dismay on discovering that Captain Cochrane had not come out
with his ship this time. According to the account of Mr. Gerard, the new
master of the “Merry Maid,” Mr. Cochrane had had a legacy of a thousand
pounds left him lately, and he had resolved to take a holiday for the
space of a voyage. On the return of the ship to England, he meant to
join it, and Captain Gerard would then have to subside into his former
position of chief mate.
That evening, conceiving that nothing was to be done there towards the
object they had at heart, Mr. Fraser and his companion were arranging
their luggage, preparatory to returning to England on the morrow. Both
were downcast--the former particularly so.
“It’s of no use trying to do anything for Harley,” was Mr. Fraser’s
remark. “The way in which we are foiled at every turn is driving me mad.
Surely fate cannot always work so determinedly against people who are
fighting on the side of right and justice.”
“I don’t know. It’s a queerly mixed-up world. But I don’t see any cause
for being so terribly disheartened. We may come across Cochrane in
England without much trouble. And it is just possible that Stavanger has
gone back to England, too. He may think himself safe there now, and
events may develop rapidly in our favour while there.”
At this juncture, a knock was heard at the door, and a servant entered
the room with a note on a salver. The note was brief, but puzzling.
“The present captain of the ‘Merry Maid’ would like an interview with
the Rev. Mr. Bootle. He thinks that Mr. Bootle will be greatly benefited
thereby.”
“Show the gentleman in,” was the order given as soon as the note was
read, and a moment afterwards a tall, well-made man entered the room. He
was about thirty years old, originally possessed of fair hair and a
concomitant complexion. Already, however, his hair was of the sparsest,
and of nondescript tint, while exposure to the weather had invested his
face and neck with the ruddiest of hues. As if to atone for the lack of
hair on the top of his head, he was endowed with a moustache of which
nine men out of ten would have envied him the possession. The extremely
punctilious neatness of his attire would have led many to set him down
as foppishly inclined. But one look at the keen, piercing grey eyes
would have negatived the supposition that he was of a weak nature.
“Pray be seated, Captain Gerard,” said Mr. Bootle. “You have business
with us, I believe.”
“Well, I think so. To begin with, you don’t seem to be friendly towards
Captain Cochrane.”
“One isn’t usually good chums with the people one wants to arrest.”
“Precisely so. Now, I am not particularly anxious, either to do
Cochrane an ill turn, or to do you a good turn without sufficient
reason. A short explanation of my position will show you that I have a
strong personal motive in seeking your further acquaintance. I have been
ten years in the employment of the owners of the ‘Merry Maid,’ and when
two years ago I passed my final exam., and got a master’s ticket, I was
promised the first vacancy as captain that offered in the company. Soon
after this the former skipper of the ‘Merry Maid’ died, and I expected
to be appointed to her, but was disgusted to find myself passed over in
favour of a cousin of one of the owners--Cochrane, forsooth. Now, he is
a man with not half my experience, and is popular with nobody that has
to sail with him; so you may readily believe that I have not found it
easy to swallow humble pie as his subordinate. At present he is taking a
holiday. He says that he has had a legacy left him. You boarded the ship
this morning with a warrant to arrest him on a charge of being concerned
in a diamond robbery. I have put two and two together, and have come to
the conclusion that the legacy is a hoax invented to cover his
possession of money he could not otherwise give a good account of. If
your suspicions, and my suspicions, I may add, are proved correct,
Captain Cochrane won’t tread the ‘Merry Maid’s’ deck again. Failing his
return, I am sure to be given permanent command, and as I consider
myself to have a right to the position, I shall be very glad to give any
information I can that will remove my rival from my path. I have, you
see, been perfectly straightforward and honest with you. I don’t pretend
to disinterested motives, or any rot about only being anxious to serve
the ends of justice. I want Cochrane out of my way, and for that reason
alone I am ready to co-operate with you against him. If you care to give
me your confidence, we may be able to help each other.”
Both his hearers had listened eagerly to what Captain Gerard had to say.
Then they nodded to each other, after mutually questioning the
advisability of trusting this stranger, who might, after all, be a
friend of Captain Cochrane, and might have come to pump them in order to
put the villain on his guard. But, somehow, they were both inclined to
believe what had just been told them, and renewed hope coursed through
their veins at the prospect of making important discoveries after all.
“I believe what you say,” remarked the Rev. Mr. Bootle, after a short
pause; “and after you have heard all there is to say on our side, you
will, I am sure, be even more ready than at present to help us.”
Then followed a recapitulation of all the details already familiar to
the reader, and it was as Mr. Bootle had surmised. Captain Gerard became
greatly excited, and vowed that he would do all he could in the cause of
justice, even if it became imperative to work openly, and thus lose the
favour of his employers, who were Cochrane’s relations.
“And you say that Riddell’s brother sailed as steward in the ‘Merry
Maid’ last voyage? Depend upon it, he must have betrayed his identity in
some way or other. And I will tell you why I think so. There has been
some whispering aboard the ship about the late steward’s disappearance.
If this steward was the man you say, his disappearance is no longer
mysterious. He was murdered. And, what’s more, I will try to prove it.”