THE CUSTOMS
He was disturbed in his mind, but he said nothing when he came on
board. There was no use in worrying the others, and he had reasons of
his own for keeping silence. All the same, if Visconti were here in
Genoa and the prime mover in the Vanjour business, the thing was more
serious than it had seemed at first.
Visconti, from what he knew of him, was no ordinary man. If he were
a crook, then he must be at the very top of his profession. He had
the manner and appearance of an Italian nobleman, and it was possible
that he was strongly enough placed to be able to make overtures to the
Italian police. Failing to make profit out of the cargo of the Lorna
himself, he might choose to make profit out of the information he could
give about it to the authorities.
For a moment Sam almost regretted that he had not closed some sort of
deal with Vanjour. Half a loaf is better than no bread.
Down below, smoking a pipe whilst the others were busy on deck, the
unfortunate Sam had a very unhappy quarter of an hour. His unhappiness
came from this: he could not remember exactly what he had said
during that pleasant evening which he had spent on board the _Santa
Margharita_ at Hyalos, under the influence of Italian champagne,
cigars, liqueurs, and the fascination of Visconti's personality. He did
remember having said that he was touching at Genoa on the way back--a
quite innocent remark between two honest sailor men, but a deadly
admission if Visconti was a rogue. What else had he said that might
have given the whole business away by implication? He could not tell.
Not only did he feel that he might possibly have betrayed his
companions, he felt also that he ought to tell them. Yet what good
could it do? The thing was done and over, and all the confessions in
the world were of no avail.
Besides it would be a horribly unpleasant business, for he would have
to own up before Martia to having taken too much liquor.
He came on deck.
Dusk was just closing her hand on the world, and the shore lights
beginning to sprinkle themselves from the great fort on the left across
the terraced city, preparing itself for the gaiety of the night. The
wind had shifted to east of north, a quarter almost exactly opposite to
that from which it had blown in the morning.
What did that portend? Sam could not say. He was not up in the tricks
of the Mediterranean weather. The glass was steady: that was enough for
him. He set to work helping the others, though their work was nearly
finished.
Then they went downstairs for supper.
"How'd it be," said Bobby, as they sat over the meal, "to shift our
moorings now and get into the outer harbour? It would be easier for us
getting out."
"You can't anchor there," replied Sam. "You'd have to berth beside one
of the steamships, and you can't do that without giving notice. No,
even if we could, I don't believe in two starts."
"Won't they hear the winch taking in the anchor?"
"Who?"
"The harbour people. They'd be sure to think it funny us clearing out
at such an hour."
"I'm not going to raise the anchor. I'll knock the shackle off the
chain and drop it. I have two spares."
"Listen!" said Martia.
Through the open skylight came sounds as of a boat arriving alongside,
of oars being got in, and the voice of Atherfield and--a foreign voice.
The people seated at the table looked at one another. Martia grew a bit
pale, and Bobby half-rose from his chair.
"Sit down!" whispered Sam. "And whatever you do, don't seem to be
flustered if it's anyone that's----"
"Port man come up to see you, sir." Atherfield, standing in the
doorway, stepped aside, and the "port man" entered.
A stout little man with brass buttons on his coat and wearing a
gold-braided cap, which he removed at sight of Martia. He bowed in
her direction. He was very polite, this representative of the port
authorities, but to the girl, brutality of manner would not have been a
whit less terrible than this politeness which spoke of power.
"Captain Hackett?" asked the stranger in a tentative voice.
"I'm him," said Sam, who had risen from the table.
"So. Well, I have some little business with you, Captain Hackett. I am
from the Customs Superintendent, and I have my men with me, but I am
sure we will not need them at all. Just a few questions to ask you,
Captain Hackett. Thanks, I will sit me down. Now my papers." He took a
bundle of blue papers from the pocket of his coat, "Now my spectacles."
He put on a pair of pince-nez. "Very useful things, spectacles, but
very great what you call a nuisance. Will not the lady sit down?"
He opened one of the blue papers and glanced at the writing on it for a
moment, then folded it, and put the whole bundle of papers back in his
pocket, took off his pince-nez, and toyed with them as he spoke.
"You Englishman?"
"Yes."
"And this lady and this gentleman English?"
"Yes, and the crew. All English."
"Boat of pleasure?"
"How do you mean? Oh, a yacht. Yes, that's so."
"No contraband on board, not declared?"
"You mean tobacco and stuff?"
"Captain, I said contraband."
"No, there's neither liquor or anything that you reckon is contraband."
"No wines, liqueurs?"
"No."
"No objects of art shipped from Italy?"
"No."
"Ah, well, it is in our information that this is not so. Pardon me for
saying so, Captain Hackett."
"Let's be clear," said Sam. "I have some objects of art, as you call
them, but they are not from Italy."
"Ah, you have some objects of art, but they are not from Italy. Where
then are they from?"
"Greece."
"You have the papers to show that they are from Greece; bought in
Greece?"
"No; we found them in Greece."
"You found them in Greece! Then from the Greek Government you will have
papers of permission to find those things and to take them with you."
"No, I haven't any papers. We found them on an island."
"So. Well, it is our information that these things were taken from
Italian soil. But we will leave that for the moment. I must make
examination."
"Certainly," broke in Martia, then, turning to Sam, "Show him
everything we have and he will see that they are Greek. Nothing like
them was ever found in Italy, of that I'm sure."
She went to a locker and took out one of the vases, carefully wrapped
in dried grass, and presented it to the officer. He took it, held it
under the light and turned it about without comment. Then, still under
the lead of Martia, the general inspection began. The Aphrodite in the
bunk, the things hidden here and there, some in the bath-room, some
in the galley--everything down to the Eros standing on its head, was
revealed, inspected, and noted.
Then they came back to the cabin and sat down again.
Bobby produced a tin of cigarettes and the officer accepted one and lit
it. He seemed mollified by the frank treatment he had received.
He took a paper from his pocket and made some notes then looking up:
"There is nothing more but these things you have shown me?"
"Nothing," said Sam.
"Well, that brings the affair to conclusion."
Martia gave a deep sigh of relief.
"It still remains that the ship is under arrest. What you say of these
things being Greek I cannot determine. It must be put before the
authorities at Naples, where the experts are. I believe you honest
people and what you say to be truth, but I am not the Government. The
ship must be taken to Naples. My men will take it there and you will
all come ashore with me to attend the enquiry at Naples."
"Oh, good gosh!" said Bobby.
Sam said nothing.
"But surely," cried Martia, waking out of a horrible paralysis and
feeling exactly as though she were in a nightmare--"surely you are not
going to arrest us?"
"Arrest? No!" said the officer. "I will treat you, madame, and your
companions with every consideration. But I must do my duty. There will
be nothing but the going ashore and coming with me, not to-night, but
on the morrow morning, just as friends. It will be nothing but coming
with me till the enquiry makes it plain about this matter. And then I
hope indeed it will be my pleasure to see you depart from Naples in
your ship with these things. You will stay in an hotel at Naples for
the enquiry, which will be expedited as rapidly as in our power."
"And our men?" asked Sam.
"They too, must come. The ship is under arrest, and in strictness it is
my duty to ask you all to come with me ashore to-night, but you will
have your things to pack and take with you and I wish to cause you no
inconvenience."
"But," said Sam, "the expense."
"Should the enquiry prove in your favour, captain, the Italian
government will see to the expense. If otherwise----"
He shrugged his shoulders.
Then he rose and gathered together his papers.
"You will not leave the ship? I have your parole?"
"Yes," said Sam, "I promise we won't leave the ship."
"Well, then, till to-morrow morning," said the other. "And do not
be afraid, miss"--laying his hand in a kindly manner on Martia's
arm--"there will be nothing of unpleasantness for you. Just the matter
of coming ashore with me and taking the train for Naples. No police
show. Nothing. I wish you good-evening."
They accompanied him on deck and saw him overside into the boat that
was waiting.
Then they went below.
No one spoke for a moment. Bobby helped himself to a cigarette. Martia
took her seat at the table.
The prospect before them was frankly appalling. They had all to go
to Naples, afterguard and crew. The ship would be brought there. The
enquiry might take months, and every newspaper in Europe would be full
of it. Greece would have her say. They would have to engage counsel,
pay hotel expenses, and were sure to lose in the end.
It would be a ruinous affair for all concerned.
"What I want to know," suddenly burst out Bobby, "is--who put these
Customs chaps on to us? Vanjour? It couldn't be anyone else, and he's
a crook, for he offered to share in the business. Well, we've got them
there."
"How?" asked Martia hopelessly.
"How? Why, we can prove that the police are in league with Vanjour.
He wouldn't have given the show away without being sure that he would
profit by it. He wouldn't have done it simply from spite."
"I don't see how we are going to prove anything," replied the girl.
"We have only our word to back us. Can't you see?"
Sam, who had been sitting with his face in his fists, suddenly looked
up.
"Look here," said Sam. "We have committed no crime here. We haven't
tried to run contraband. We have things on board that aren't even
listed among contraband articles. I don't believe that, strictly
according to law, they have any right to detain us here. I think
they've overrun their cable. I know a good deal about port authorities
and their ways, and I know they often do things quite indefensible
simply because they have the power. They are the most arbitrary lot in
the world."
"Why didn't you tell that to the Customs man?" asked Bobby. "And what's
the good of talking? They have the power, and that's everything."
"You wait a minute," said Sam. "If we were out beyond the three
mile-limit what could they do?"
"Take us and haul us back."
"Could they? Well, maybe they could. But that would be seizing a
British ship on the high seas, and at once we could put the matter in
the hands of the British consul. And on what charge would they seize
us? For being in Genoa Harbour with articles on board that are neither
contraband nor munitions of war? Didn't you notice that this fellow is
so uncertain of his position that he has not done what he would have
done if he had been sure we were breaking the law--put us all in quod
right away? But leave all that aside. If we were once out beyond the
sight of land, they might whistle for us. I'm going to have a try."
"To get out?"
"Yes. Creep out as we intended to. It's our only chance."
"But you gave your parole," said Martia.
"Yes, not to leave the ship. I'm not going to leave the ship."
"But they'll be watching us."
"Not they. If we tried to go ashore it would be different. But they'll
never think of us going out. They don't even know we've got an
auxiliary engine on board."
"But look here," said Bobby. "Even if we get out and away, do you mean
to say they won't telegraph to England to stop us?"
"On what charge? The only charge the Italian government can make
against us is that we have antiques on board that have possibly been
taken from Italian soil. Possibly, mind you. They can give no facts.
If they have us arrested in England on a bare supposition--and I doubt
if they can--and if that supposition proves false, what do they let
themselves in for? It doesn't matter a button about Greece. Italy has
no right to act for Greece. What we are being held here for is a mere
suspicion that these are Italian works of art, which they aren't. It's
good enough to hold us, but it's not good enough to set the cables
working, arrest us in England, and lay the Italians open for a big bill
for compensation owing to that arrest."
Bobby whistled.
"By Jove," said he, "there's something in this. If only----"
"What?"
"We can get out."
"I don't know whether we can get out or whether we can't," said Sam,
"but I'm going to have a jolly good try."
Martia, sitting with her hands folded in her lap, rose to her feet.
"I feel we will," she said. "I feel luck is with us. We made our plans
even before that man came on board, and we've got our water and stores.
Luck is with us."
"Maybe," said Sam, touching the wood of the table.