A DIPLOMATIC REMOVAL.
Individually the Minorcan is very amiably disposed towards the
inhabitants of those other islands, Great Britain and Ireland. It is a
matter of Spanish history that Minorca for many years groaned under
English rule; and as prosperity has steadily decayed since the native
article has been substituted for this reign of tyranny, it is not
wonderful that the average Minorcan has a hankering to groan again.
Indeed, he says as much with a candour that would be refreshing to
haters of Victoria R et I's expansive _raj_. But the Carabinero
who guards the public morals holds (in the bulk) different opinions. He
has no wish to be, like Othello, the possessor of a gone occupation;
and by way of marking this distaste, he is apt on occasion to be uppish
with the chance foreigner.
By force of circumstances, Haigh and I were in the way of finding
ourselves in no slight difficulties. The Briton in his own insular
ports is a very slipshod person with regard to the papers of small
craft--especially pleasure craft. He looks upon those last with a
favourable eye, and watches their going and coming with small concern.
The peoples of the Mediterranean are constructed in different fashion.
At the larger ports they are suspicious; but at the less frequented
spots, firmly disbelieving that men can ever yacht for mere pleasure,
they always take it for granted that any small craft is laden with
explosives and conspiracy, until it has been most clearly and
exhaustively demonstrated that such is not the case. Of course the
orthodox papers and clearances from one's port of departure form the
initial proof of innocence and harmlessness; and equally, of course,
the lack of formality which had signalized our departure from Genoa
prevented the display of these. And in addition, other matters combined
to make our characters look still more shady.
We must have been boarded by the authorities soon after bringing up to
our anchor, and I was dimly conscious of a stooping person in uniform
staring in at us through the cabin door. But I was far too weary to
wake or take any notice. However, the sight must have worked a dream
into my sleep, for I remember imagining that official's feelings when
he gazed at the mildewed desolation of the ugly cutter's interior, when
he contrasted her size with the infernal gale she must have been
sailing through to make the harbour, and when he noted that her entire
crew consisted of two persons very much out of ordinary yachtsmen's
uniform. And then I had visions of further inquiries; the official glee
with which more unsatisfactory items were arrived at; the head-shakes
of the British Vice-Consul; and--and then after that a deluge of lurid
complexion.
These maundering cogitations must have spread themselves over a
considerable time, for when Haigh roused me up, he said that I had
slept very nearly round the clock. I pulled myself together and stared
at him. He was looking distinctly excited; and this, seeing that he was
usually a very calm sort of fish, was remarkable.
"Never say our luck has broken," said he. "I've just performed a
regular four-cornered miracle. That port-authority person called again
about two hours back, and it began to dawn upon me that we were done
for. He fairly bristled with suspicion. I could see it even in the set
of his clothes. If I'd told him that as soon as our fleet was gone you
and I were going to take possession of the island in the name of the
king of Ireland, he'd have believed it. But I temporized, having no
yarn ready, and luck came down in a tornado. Not one Spaniard in a
thousand has a soul above a single miserable liqueur--glass; but this
one was the exception. He supped down that vermouth, pannikin after
pannikin; and as he got more drunk, so did I get more eloquent. I
believe at my strongest then I could have blarneyed Old Nick into
giving me a draughty corner."
"But what in the plague did you say to the man? How could you get over
the fact of having no clearance papers, and all the rest of it?"
"Simplest thing in the world, my dear chap, when once I'd grasped the
idea. The cutter put out of Savona some two months ago--this being a
fact, as I put documentary evidence under his nose to prove. Then she
sailed to Corsica, and lay in a tiny coaster's harbour where there was
no Captain of the Port or any one else who could scribble on stamped
paper. There we stayed all the time till the crew deserted, and we
ourselves were evilly entreated, the yacht being gutted by unprincipled
natives. _Apres_, you and I brought her across here alone, knowing
this to be the abode of bliss. Of course, in his sober senses he'd
never have believed a word of it; but, thanks to that lovely vermouth,
he swallowed the whole yarn, lock, stock, and barrel, and wrote me out
the wherewithal, and then tumbled off to sleep, swearing by three local
saints that he wanted to go to the same heaven I landed at."
"But," said I, "when he's sober, he'll be down on us like a thousand of
bricks."
"Not a bit of it, my dear boy. Don't you know that all Spaniards can
look upon a murder without emotion, but no Spaniard can see a drunken
man without being filled with loathing? Our beauty on the locker there
will be the last to give himself away. But never mind raging about this
now. I woke you up for something else. Come on deck. There, do you see
that steamer just opening out from the Hospital island? That's the
_Antiguo Mahones_, the mail-boat from Barcelona. Unless he's
broken down somewhere, your man Weems should be on board."
"I'm afraid not. According to the book of Steamer Sailings I looked at
in Genoa, he ought to have left Barcelona three days ago."
"Precisely; but, old chappie, you don't know the _Antiguo
Mahones_. Now I do. She was built on the Clyde in the early
'sixties, and has seen much service under the Red Duster. When she grew
old and outclassed, she followed the way of all steamers, and was
bought by a Mediterranean firm who quite understand her infirmities and
nurse her accordingly. Her skipper is far too sensible a person to put
to sea in anything approaching blowy weather, even though he does carry
his most Catholic Majesty's mails; and the passengers are quite the
class of people to appreciate his caution. _Manana_, if you will
remember, is the motto of the nation."
"Well, if that's the case," I broke in, "it seems to me our best plan
will be to get ashore now, and go for our pickings in Talaiti de Talt
without further delay. Weems is always seasick, so he told me, from the
moment he leaves shore. He said it was a sign of a highly-organized
mind, hinting that it was only coarse-fibred people who could keep
their victuals under hatches in a roll. And so, as the _Antiguo
Mahones_ has been getting kicked about in big swell ever since she
left Barcelona inner harbour, it's pretty safe to bet that Master Weems
has had the business part of his little soul churned completely out of
him, and that he'll go and lie up at Bustamente's Hotel for a day or
two to recruit. He'll never guess we're here, and consequently will see
no cause for hurry. And besides, these Fleet sailormen will make an
additional argument towards lying low for a bit. He'll see how they
wander about in batches into all sorts of unexpected places, and he
will be very chary about rootling up the cache whilst they are in the
neighbourhood and likely to disturb him."
"There's a good deal in that," commented Haigh, blinking at the shabby
black steamer thoughtfully. "You'd better pop down below in case he has
ventured his little self on deck, and should happen to twig you. But
still it's best to be on the safe side." He chose a cigar, lighted it
and puffed for a minute, and then took it out of his mouth and grinned
at the glowing end. "Look here. The fellow doesn't know me from Adam.
I'll slip ashore, and see if I can't find snug quarters for him where
he'll be out of the way of doing mischief."
"What piece of devilry are you up to now?" I inquired a bit anxiously;
for Haigh's vagaries, from what I had seen and heard of them, ranged
between wild and mad, and having got so near the Recipe, I didn't want
to get in any mess that would baulk us at the finish. "You aren't going
to shoot the man, are you?"
"Haven't got anything to shoot him with. No, I'm not going to lay hands
on him at all. But I think I can get some one else to do it for me.
It's no use asking my scheme, because I haven't got one. It's only a
vague idea that has occurred to me, but there's no harm in giving it a
trial. Only I must be off now, or the passengers will be landed before
I get to the quay."
He took my hat and went on deck. I heard him hail some one in a passing
boat, and presently he was taken off the cutter. I stood up and looked
cautiously through the main skylight, so as not to be viewed by any
chance from without. The steamer was being brought up alongside the
quay with true Spanish caution and slowness, warps being sent in all
directions, boats flying about, a couple of anchors down, windlass and
steam-winches thundering. An English launch was lying-to close by, her
crew highly amused at the display. And the quay was black with people
enjoying their bi-weekly sensation.
Slowly the _Antiguo Mahones_ swung parallel to the quay wall, and
then a derrick chain was hauled out and I heard the scrape of the big
gangway as it drew along the gravel, and the thud of its iron-shod heel
as it fell on deck and bridged the intervening two fathoms of water.
But the black hull of the steamer blotted out all view of the people
beyond it, and on the cutter I could learn nothing more of what was
going on till Haigh came back.
The last glow of sunset had died away. The white walls and red roofs of
the town up there on the cliff were already beginning to be hazed out
by darkness, and the soft yellow splashes of lamplight were growing in
number.
I sat down, and cut up a cigar for my pipe.
The situation did not please me at all. The more I thought it over, the
more I remembered how uncertain Haigh was, and how likely he was to
bring about some fiasco out of sheer devilry. If I'd had a boat I
should have cut ashore there and then, and made off to Talaiti de Talt
without delaying a single moment. And as it was, with no boat, I more
than once got to my legs with the intention of swimming, but could
never quite screw up my mind as to whether it was really advisable to
do so.
I kept cursing myself for this womanish indecision; but even that
didn't improve matters. I could not figure out what to do for the best.
And consequently I stayed where I was, and mumbled and mowed in black
fury.
Haigh was in all about an hour and a half gone, and returned very much
cock-a-hoop with himself. He was brought on board by a smart boat rowed
by four men; and telling them to wait, he came down below.
"Hullo, Cospatric! you're looking as black as a Soudanese stoker with
the stomach-ache. Did ye think I'd been tampering with the interests of
the firm? Not a bit of it, man. Thanks to his own natural cussedness,
I've just fixed your schoolmaster beautifully. The stars in their
courses are backing up our stupendous luck. Some gentlemen of the
anarchist persuasion have been blowing up men and women and marble
seats in the Plaza Real at Barcelona. Indiscriminate shooting on the
part of the troops followed, and cables were sent to all parts to watch
for escaping assassins. The affair happened after the _Antiguo
Mahones_ sailed, so far as I can make out; but, of course, to the
Spanish official mind that is a mere matter of detail. In these cases
Spain expects that every man this day will exceed his duty. Weems being
the only foreigner on board, and having the looks of a man who would
not steal a potato, was naturally spotted at once, and a sub-officer of
Carabineros demanded his passport. Weems, not knowing a word of
Catalan, looked helpless. An interested mob collected, and stared and
made suggestions. None of them could speak a word of English. Weems got
pale, and offered the Carabinero half a peseta. Had the bribe been a
big one and tendered privately, it might have carried weight; but as it
was, the offer was an insult.
"At this point I pushed through the crowd, and offered my services as
an interpreter. I can imagine the little worm was never so humbly
grateful in his life; but when I told him that his passport was wanted,
he was the cocksure schoolmaster ape in a moment. Such a thing was not
requisite for travelling in Spain; it was utterly superfluous; I might
be ignorant of the fact, as so many people were, but he could assure me
it was so. A clerk at a tourist agency (in some provincial town at
home) had told him all about the matter. And so he had got no passport.
Would I explain these matters to the person in uniform, and inform him
that he would be pilloried in the _Times_ if he did not take great
care of what he was about.
"As this couldn't well be improved upon, I put it into Spanish,
verbatim, and the Carabinero's suspicion grew to certainty. 'Did I know
the senor?' 'No, never clapped eyes on him before.' 'But he was a
countryman of mine?' With a suggestive shrug of the shoulders, 'I
devoutly hoped not.' 'Then it was his duty to make the senor his
prisoner.'
"I imparted this information to Weems, who sweated. 'Can't you do
anything for me, sir?' he implored. I was afraid I could not, and
though I felt pretty sure that he'd be let out of durance vile in about
half an hour, I didn't tell him so. However, as he and his escort were
going off, another thought dawned upon me. 'Are you a Mason?' I asked.
'Yes,' said he. 'Then take the tip and make yourself known. I'm not one
myself, but I know the fraternity is pretty thick here. Ta-ta.' Now the
Freemasons of Mahon are the Halt, the Shoemaker, and the Discontented,
and they are banded together solely because they are 'agin the
Government;' and so, with our luck at its present premium, if they
don't assist to keep Weems laid by the heels longer than otherwise
would be the case, I'm a Deutcheman."
"Poor devil," said I. "What a state of mind he'll be in!"
"'Twon't kill anybody, and it'll do him good. Besides, he thoroughly
deserved twice as much as he's got."
"That's a fact; and I must say you've paid the score cutely."
Haigh grinned. "I've Irish blood in me, old chappie," said he, "and
that means a natural taste for amateur conspiracy and general
devilment. But don't let's stay jawing here any longer. We're both due
for a good jaunt ashore, and there's a bran-new tick here to guarantee
us every mortal thing (bar one) which we want. And for that one, which
is almost always a ready-money commodity, it will do us good to wait
till we've tapped the late blessed Raymond's bank."