JIMMY DALE
"That," said Captain Simmons, "is Braxa."
He pointed out ahead to where the desolate-looking sandy coast that
they had been skirting for some hours rose suddenly into an irregular
line of hills and cliffs.
"If you have a look through these," he added, "you'll be able to see
the entrance to the bay."
Tony, who was standing beside him on the bridge, lightly clad in blue
silk pyjamas and a Norfolk jacket, took the proffered glasses and
levelled them in the direction indicated. In the bright early
morning sunshine he could plainly make out the small opening in the
coastline, behind which a number of pink and white houses could be
seen straggling picturesquely up the hillside.
"It looks a very nice place," he said generously. "How long do you
think it will take us to get there?"
Captain Simmons glanced at his watch. "We shall make the point in
about three quarters of an hour," he said. "We ought to be at anchor
by half-past nine."
"In that case," said Tony, "I shall go and have some breakfast. I
shall be much too excited to eat eggs and bacon when we're once in
the harbour."
He left the bridge, and after pausing for a moment on the warm deck
to take another appreciative glance round at the sunlit expanse of
blue sky and foam-flecked sea, he pursued his leisurely way down the
main companion to his cabin.
A quarter of an hour later he emerged again looking very cool and
comfortable in a well cut suit of grey flannels. Nothing would ever
induce him to adopt a more conventional form of yachting costume; his
own explanation being that white duck and blue serge invariably made
him sea-sick.
As he passed along the passage on his way to the saloon, a cabin door
swung open and someone stepped out almost into his arms. It was
Molly, but any one who could have recognized the fact without being
told so must have possessed an extraordinary acuteness of perception.
As far as outward appearance went she was as sound and convincing a
curate as the most fastidious vicar could possibly demand. Even the
cleverest actresses, when they dress up as men, nearly always betray
the fact in a dozen ways, but except for a certain delicacy of
feature, there was absolutely nothing about her to arouse the
faintest suspicion. With her gold-rimmed spectacles and her smoothly
brushed and amazingly natural wig, she looked a perfect specimen of
that rather fragile type of young clergyman, who is apt to stir a
tender and half maternal passion in the hearts of middle-aged
spinsters.
Tony, who had had forty-eight hours in which to become accustomed to
this masterpiece, stopped and gazed at her in fresh and profound
admiration.
"It's marvellous, Molly," he observed, "absolutely marvellous! Every
time I look at you I feel exactly as if I was going to say grace."
She laughed and in a rather unclerical fashion, slid her arm through
his.
"Well, come along and do it then," she said. "I'm quite ready for
breakfast."
They made their way to the saloon, where they found Guy already
established, and the steward in the very act of bringing in the
coffee. Guy's face was a little pale--the result of a slight attack
of seasickness on the previous day, and disapproval which had been
stamped firmly on it ever since he had found out that Molly was to
accompany them on the trip.
"Do you know," said Tony, as they seated themselves at the table,
"that in an hour's time we shall be at anchor in Braxa Harbour?"
There was an exclamation from both his companions.
"I didn't realize we were as near as that," said Guy.
"Why didn't you tell me before?" demanded Molly. "I should have gone
up on deck to have a look."
"I thought you had better have your breakfast first," said Tony.
"It's very bad for one to get excited on an empty tummy." He helped
himself handsomely to eggs and bacon. "Besides we must be very
careful how we show ourselves at present. The skipper says there's a
coast-guard station at the entrance to the bay, and if it's still in
working order they have probably got us under observation already."
"Do you think they'll want to come and search us when we reach the
harbour?" asked Guy a little apprehensively.
Tony shrugged his shoulders. "That's what they're there for," he
said; "but when there's a revolution and two or three civil wars
buzzing about, people are apt to get a little careless in their work.
Anyhow I'm not worrying myself about that. Our dear old friend
Colonel Saltero is expecting us, and you can be quite sure he doesn't
mean to have his cartridges mopped up by any one else." He paused to
refill his cup. "What I'm thinking about is Jimmy," he added. "It
will make all the difference in the world if Jimmy can only manage to
get on board before the Colonel does. We shall have some sort of a
notion where we are then."
"I shouldn't think there was much chance of it," observed Molly.
"You never know," said Tony hopefully. "There's a lot of resource
about Jimmy. A money-lender once spent six weeks trying to serve a
writ on him, and he couldn't do it even then."
There was a knock at the cabin door, and in answer to Tony's "Come
in," one of the crew presented himself on the threshold.
"If you please, Sir Ant'ny," he began, "the Captain's compliments,
and there's a party o' the name o' Dale signallin' to us from a small
cutter to starboard. Says 'e's a friend o' yours, sir. The Capt'n
wants to know if we shall stop and pick him up."
There was a dramatic pause, and then Tony wheeled round in his chair
so as to face the speaker.
"Pick him up!" he repeated. "Why I should think so, Jackson. Pick
him' up tenderly--touch him with care. Tell Captain Simmons I'll be
up on deck myself as soon as I've finished this piece of bacon."
With a grin and a salute, the sailor departed, and turning back to
the table, Tony gazed triumphantly at Guy and Molly.
"Well, my children," he observed; "what did uncle tell you?"
Molly pushed back her plate. "It was a put-up job, Tony," she said,
"you knew he was there."
"I didn't," retorted Tony, "on my honour. There wasn't a boat of any
kind in sight when I was on the bridge. I feel it's a sign that
Providence approves of us."
Molly looked at him and saw that he was speaking the truth.
"Well, we've started," she said with a little triumphant laugh. "Can
I come up with you?"
Tony shook his head. "I think you had better lie low for the
present," he answered. "You're the Queen of Trumps in this game,
Molly, and we don't want to play you too soon."
Molly looked a trifle disappointed, but she raised no objection.
"All right," she said obediently. "I'll save myself up for the King."
Tony rose from the table. "I'll bring Jimmy down as soon as he's on
board," he said. "You had better get out the whisky and soda. He's
sure to be hungry."
He left the cabin, followed by Guy, and making his way up the
companion, stepped out on to the smooth and spotless deck.
The _Betty_ had slowed down almost completely and only a faint ripple
in her wake showed that she was still moving. Hove to, a little
distance ahead, lay a small cutter of about seven tons, from which a
dinghy with a couple of men on board was just putting out.
They rowed rapidly across the intervening water so as to cut off the
yacht, and timing it to perfection reached their destination just as
she was practically ceasing to move. An accommodation ladder had
been let down over the side, and Jimmy, a stout and happy looking
young gentleman who was crouching in the bows, grabbed hold of it
neatly as it came alongside. The next moment he had scrambled on
board, and the boat with its solitary occupant was drifting away
astern.
"Once aboard the lugger--" observed the newcomer in an
extraordinarily soft voice, and then with a faint chuckle he stepped
forward and clasped Tony's outstretched hand. "Hope I haven't come
too early?" he added cheerfully.
Tony wrung his hand, and taking a pace backwards surveyed him with an
affectionate approval.
"My dear Jimmy," he said. "You come like the flowers in May."
"And I may mention," added Jimmy, transferring his grip to Guy, "that
I come after a prolonged and distressing drought."
Tony smiled happily. "I have ordered breakfast for you," he said.
"We will go straight down, as soon as I have introduced you to the
skipper."
Captain Simmons, who had left the bridge, was advancing along the
deck towards them.
"This is my friend Jimmy Dale, Captain," said Tony. "He is one of
Portriga's most distinguished citizens."
"That so?" said the skipper extending a huge brown paw. "Glad to
meet you, Mr. Dale. Perhaps you can tell us what's going on ashore,
and whether we're likely to hit any trouble if we run straight in to
Braxa."
"I shouldn't think so," replied Jimmy in his soft and pleasing voice.
"As far as I know all the able-bodied officials in Braxa have pushed
off to Portriga to join in the looting. I believe there are one or
two policemen left, but I don't suppose they are awake yet."
"We won't disturb 'em," said the Captain. "We'll come in nice and
quiet, and let 'em have their nap out. Do you know the harbour at
all, Mr. Dale?"
"Pretty fair," said Jimmy. "I've been out fishing in it a good
number of times."
"Well, perhaps when we get round the Head you wouldn't mind coming up
on the bridge. I've never been in here before, and there might be
one or two points I'd be glad of a little information about."
"I'll bring him along," said Tony. "How soon will he be wanted?"
"Oh, there's no hurry," replied the Captain genially. "Plenty o'
time for a good breakfast. We shan't be off the Head for another
twenty minutes yet."
He turned to retrace his steps, and after offering Jimmy a cigarette,
Tony started to lead the way below.
Molly was still sitting at the table when they entered the saloon,
and at the unexpected sight Jimmy's good-natured countenance betrayed
a momentary surprise and embarrassment.
"Ah, I forgot to tell you we had a friend with us," said Tony easily.
"Let me introduce you. The Reverend Mr. Monk--my old pal Jimmy Dale."
They shook hands gravely--an action which proved nearly too much even
for the sedate Guy, who turned away hastily to hide his expression.
"Dear old James," said Tony. "It's so nice to see you again. Have
some eggs and bacon?"
Jimmy sat down at the table and automatically pulled the whisky and
soda towards himself.
"I'll have anything that's going," he replied obligingly. "But what
I should like best of all are a few explanations. At present I feel
as if I was taking a small part in a cinematograph film."
He squirted a modest supply of soda into his tumbler, and accepted
the well supplied plate which Molly handed across to him.
"You shall have everything in a minute if you are good and patient,"
said Tony encouragingly. "To start with, however, there are one or
two questions that we want to ask you. You mayn't be aware of it,
Jimmy, but at the present moment you are a very valuable and
important person."
"I felt it," said Jimmy; "I felt it directly I stepped on board." He
took a deep and apparently much welcome drink, and set down the
tumbler.
"We want you to tell us," went on Tony, "exactly what's been
happening in Livadia since the day before yesterday. We know all
about the beginning of the Revolution, but we are not quite
up-to-date with the last part."
"The day before yesterday," repeated Jimmy thoughtfully. "Let's
see--that was Thursday, wasn't it? There's been such a lot of blood
and noise and free drinks about that I've got a bit mixed up in my
dates." He paused to take a large mouthful of egg and bacon.
"Thursday," he continued a little indistinctly, "was just about the
brightest and breeziest day we've had. It was the morning that
Almaida made his big attack on the Royalists, and they were scrapping
from eight o'clock until three or four in the afternoon. They would
have gone on longer, only all the wine shops had been cleaned out by
then and everybody was so thirsty that they had to stop."
"And what happened?" asked Guy. "Who got the best of it?"
"Well, I suppose it was more or less of a drawn battle," returned
Jimmy indifferently. "Almaida managed to cross the river and bag the
railway station and the Town Hall, but as they'd both been burned to
the ground I don't suppose he got much for his trouble. It was quite
a merry little romp while it lasted though."
Tony reached across for the whisky and helped himself to a companion
peg.
"What did you do in the great war, Daddy?" he inquired.
"Me!" said Jimmy. "Oh, I was a very good little boy. I hoisted the
Union Jack, and stopped in my own house, and when any one tried the
front door I fired at them out of the window. I don't think I hit
anybody--I'm such a putrid shot with a revolver."
"Well, you did your best," said Tony consolingly, "and that's all
that really matters."
Jimmy shook his head. "I used up a lot of cartridges," he objected,
"and they cost no end of money out here. Besides I should like to
have slaughtered just one Livadian. One doesn't often get the chance
of doing such a good turn to humanity."
"But how about the Revolution?" broke in Guy a trifle impatiently.
"What happened after the fighting came to an end?"
"Oh, the fighting didn't come to an end," returned Jimmy. "It was
only the battle. People went on shooting each other privately all
night, and next morning there was some sort of an attempt at another
general engagement. It was nothing like Thursday, however, because
both sides were running short of ammunition. However, I thought it
seemed healthier indoors, so I stayed where I was until about three
o'clock, when I suddenly noticed that the shooting was beginning to
stop, and that the people were gathering together into groups and
jawing and jabbering like a lot of monkeys. I guessed that something
had happened, so I loaded up my revolver and shoved on a hat, and
tootled out into the sunshine."
He paused to select a cigar from the case which Tony was holding out
to him.
"Almost the first person I ran into," he went on, "was a man I
happened to know. I asked him what was up, and he told me that there
was a report all over the town that Pedro and Da Freitas had just
arrived from England with Don Francisco's daughter, and that she and
the King were going to be married at once. Well, of course, that put
the hat on everything so to speak. Whatever Almaida's private
notions may have been, he was nominally fighting to make this girl
Queen of Livadia, and if she was really going to be married to Pedro,
the whole thing was nothing but a damned farce." He coughed and
turned to Molly. "Sorry, Padre," he added apologetically. "Forgot
you were here."
Molly inclined her head gravely, and once again Guy turned away to
conceal his emotions.
"Go on, James," said Tony in a reassuring voice. "You needn't be
afraid of shocking Mr. Monk. He has been chaplain to a bishop."
"There's not so very much more to tell," said Jimmy. "At first, of
course, most of Almaida's people thought it was just a bluff on the
part of the Royalists--a sort of trick to try and upset 'em and then
catch 'em on the hop. By six o'clock, however, posters and bills
began to be shoved up all over the place. No one seemed to know who
was doing it, but there they were as large as life, saying that the
marriage would come off in the Cathedral on Sunday morning, and
calling upon all the Franciscans to lay down their arms. I was
coming back home, when I found one of them stuck up on the
post-office wall, almost exactly opposite my house. I stopped to
have a look, and while I was reading it a chap came sidling down the
street and pulled up alongside of me. He was a pretty average
looking sort of scoundrel, with a dirty bandage round his head
instead of a cap. I could see that he was squinting at me out of the
corner of his eye, and I was just wondering whether I'd better move
on quietly or plug him hard on the jaw, when he suddenly asked me in
a hoarse whisper if I was the Señor James Dale. I told him I was,
and then to my utter astonishment he gabbled out some message to the
effect that you were coming to Livadia and that the _Betty_ was
expected at Braxa early this morning. It fairly took my breath away
for a minute, and before I could ask him a single question some more
people came round the corner of the street, and he skidded off like a
rat when it sees a terrier."
Tony laughed softly. "Have another drink, James," he suggested.
"I'm sorry to have given you these nervous shocks, but we were rather
pressed for time."
"Oh, I rallied all right," said Jimmy, helping himself to a second
peg. "It was a bit of a thunderbolt for a moment, but knowing your
taste in amusements I realized at once that it was just the sort of
time you would choose for a pleasure trip to Livadia. Of course I
hadn't a notion how you had managed to get the message through to me,
but after all that didn't really matter. The great thing was to get
to Braxa in time to meet you."
He paused to refresh himself.
"How did you manage it?" inquired Guy. "I suppose there are no
trains running or anything of that sort."
"The only thing that's running in Livadia at the present moment is
blood," returned Jimmy cheerfully. "Fortunately for me, however, I'd
got a car. I sneaked it out of the garage quietly on Monday when the
trouble started, and I had it locked up in a sort of out-house at the
back of my place. I knew, of course, that I hadn't a dog's chance of
getting out of the town with it on my own, so without fooling around
I went straight off to the British Consulate, which is quite close to
where I live. I managed to get hold of Watson himself, and he gave
me a letter saying that I was a British subject, and if anybody
interfered with me all sorts of giddy things would happen to him. Of
course it wasn't exactly a gilt-edged security in a time like this:
still it was the best thing I could get, and I thought that with the
help of a bit of bluff it might pull me through." He paused. "Well,
to cut a long yarn short, it did. I had a little trouble on the
road, but I reached Braxa at last--about three o'clock this
morning--and knocked up an old boy that I used to go fishing with. I
explained the situation to him--more or less--and we came to the
conclusion that the best plan would be to pick you up outside the
harbour. He helped me stuff away the car in an old shed he's got up
at the top of the jetty; then we just tumbled into his boat
and--and--well, here we are." He leaned back and surveyed his
companions. "And now," he added placidly, "perhaps you'll be kind
enough to let me know what the devil it all means."
There was a brief pause.
"I'll tell him if you like," offered Guy.
Tony glanced at his watch. "I think you had better leave it to me,"
he said. "We shall be wanted on deck in a few minutes, and I've had
such a lot of practice, I'm sure I can tell it quicker than any one
else." He turned to Jimmy. "It's an exciting story, James; but you
must listen very carefully and not interrupt me."
Mr. Dale crossed his legs. "Let her rip," he observed tranquilly.
Once more, and this time with a masterly brevity that put all his
previous efforts in the shade, Tony proceeded to relate the series of
stimulating incidents which had sprung from his chance encounter with
Isabel outside the Long Acre flats. Owing to his highly condensed
method it was impossible to avoid a certain obscurity about some of
the details, but obedient to his instructions Jimmy received it all
in unquestioning silence.
For a moment, even after Tony had finished, he still remained mute;
then with a sudden soft little chuckle he got up from his chair, and
thrust his hands deep into his trouser pockets.
"My sainted Aunt!" he observed. "If ever there was a purple picnic
on this earth it seems to me we've struck it." He paused, as though
overwhelmed with the magnificence of the situation. "And this girl,"
he went on slowly, "this girl who's so like the Princess? Do you
really mean to say that you have brought her with you--that you've
got her here--on board?"
"We have," replied Tony, "very much so."
Jimmy glanced round the cabin. "Well, where is she? What have you
done with her?"
Tony turned his seat in the direction of the Rev. Mr. Monk.
"Get up, Molly," he said. "Get up and make the gentleman a nice
curtsey."
With her most bewitching smile, Molly rose to her feet, and picking
up the skirts of her coat in either hand, sank gracefully towards the
floor.
For an instant, for just one poignant instant, Jimmy remained gazing
at her in open-mouthed incredulity; and then with an apologetic rap
on the door the seaman Jackson again presented himself on the
threshold.
"If you please, Sir Ant'ny--the Capt'n's compliments, and he'd be
glad to see you and the other gentleman on the bridge."