COUNTERPLOTTING
It would have been difficult to find anything more restful looking
than Braxa Harbour, as it lay flooded in the morning sunshine.
Whatever bloodthirsty events might have taken place further inland,
they had certainly failed to produce any visible effect upon this
tranquil little fishing village.
From the bridge of the _Betty_, which had come to anchor a couple of
hundred yards off the end of the long stone jetty, there was nothing
to be seen that in any way broke the agreeable atmosphere of peace
and harmony. Except for a few old boats, the sandy beach was
absolutely deserted, while the pink and white houses, that clambered
up the hill at the back, seemed pleasantly asleep in the shadow of
their surrounding trees. Round a low headland on the right, a small
river meandered out into the bay, its tranquil current being plainly
visible against the clear blue of the sea water.
"I've seen livelier looking places," observed Captain Simmons
critically, "but I can't say I ever saw a much more dangerous harbour
for a big yacht, not if it should come on to blow from the sou'-west."
Tony leaned meditatively over the rail and inspected the prospect.
"I'm afraid we have arrived a little early," he said. "The Mayor and
Corporation don't seem to be up yet."
"Oh, there's never much of a rush here in the morning," remarked
Jimmy, who was standing beside him. "I once saw a dog on the beach
before breakfast, but I think he'd been out all night." He tossed
the stump of his cigar over the side and watched it drop down into
the water. "What do we do now?" he inquired.
"Well, considering that we've come by invitation," answered Tony, "I
should say the best thing was to sit tight and admire the view.
Somebody will probably notice that we've arrived, sooner or later."
With a sudden movement the Captain raised his glasses, and levelled
them on the point away to the right where the river ran out into the
bay.
"Seems to me," he observed, "that somebody's noticed it already."
He pointed to the headland, and as he did so both his companions
suddenly caught sight of something low and black in the water that
was moving slowly out of the mouth of the river.
"It's a petrol launch," said the skipper, "and unless I'm much
mistaken they're coming along to say good-morning to us."
With quiet deliberation Tony surveyed the advancing vessel, which was
already swinging round in the direction of the _Betty_.
"I can't see any one yet," he announced, "but it's pretty sure to be
Colonel Saltero. Jimmy, you'd better go downstairs and lock yourself
in the bathroom with Molly. I don't want him to know that we're a
passenger steamer.'
"Right you are," said Jimmy with alacrity. "Come and tell us when
it's all over."
He climbed down the bridge ladder, whistling tunefully to himself,
and turning back towards the approaching launch, Tony again
scrutinized it carefully through his glasses.
As it drew nearer he was able to see that there were three men on
board, and amongst them he soon made out the square-shouldered,
aggressive figure of Colonel Saltero. That distinguished warrior was
seated in the stern, and even from a considerable distance one could
detect the air of truculent authority with which he was directing
operations.
Tony snapped his glasses together and turned to the skipper.
"I think I had better go down on the deck, and prepare to make pretty
speeches," he said. "I suppose they will be able to come alongside
all right."
Captain Simmons eyed his advancing visitors with an air of
mistrustful calculation.
"I wouldn't go as far as that," he observed grimly, "but I dare say
they'll manage it somehow or other."
"Never mind," said Tony, "paint's cheap."
He descended in leisurely fashion to the deck, and walked across to
the starboard side, where the members of the crew had collected
together awaiting the skipper's orders.
A little apart from the others, and leaning over the rail, stood Mr.
McEwen and "Tiger" Bugg. For some obscure reason these two had
struck up an immediate and firm friendship, with the result that Bugg
had spent practically the entire trip in the breezy atmosphere of the
engine-room.
Tony strolled up and joined them.
"Guid-morning to ye, Sir Antony," observed the chief engineer
removing his pipe.
"Good-morning, Mr. McEwen," said Tony. "Having a look at the
visitors?"
There was a pause.
"I was wondering," said Mr. McEwen softly, "whether yon swab who put
that nine-inch spanner in my cylinder micht be amang the pairty."
Tony shook his head. "I'm afraid not," he replied regretfully.
There was a sudden exclamation of interest from Bugg.
"Why, look, sir! See 'im, sir? It's the cross-eyed bloke. The one
I knocked aht in Long Acre."
He pointed excitedly towards the approaching launch, above which the
sombre scowl of Colonel Saltero was now plainly visible to the naked
eye.
"You're quite right, Bugg," said Tony. "It's the same gentleman, but
he is coming to see me this time in a nice friendly spirit, so
perhaps you had better keep out of the way. He mightn't like to be
reminded of that push in the face."
With his usual ready obedience Bugg faded from the scene, and as he
did so the voice of Captain Simmons came curtly and incisively from
the bridge.
"Stand by with the fender, and look out for our paint."
A couple of the crew, under the direction of the second officer,
hurried to fulfil the order, while two others climbed over the rail,
ready to drop down and assist in the operation.
Shutting off her engine as she approached, the launch came swirling
round in a half circle. There was a brief moment of strained
suspense, and then skilfully avoiding the fender, she bumped heavily
alongside, in a fashion that brought a cry of anguish from Captain
Simmons' lips. The two waiting sailors dropped nimbly on to her
deck, and commenced to make her fast, and the next moment, flushed
but triumphant, Colonel Saltero was mounting the accommodation ladder.
As he emerged over the top, Tony stepped forward to meet him.
"How d'you do, Colonel?" he observed in a friendly voice. "Glad to
see you again."
Clicking his heels together, Colonel Saltero made him a stiff
military bow.
"Permit me, Sir Antony," he replied, "to welcome you to Livadia."
"Thanks very much," said Tony. Then pausing for a moment to allow
his visitor to recover a perpendicular position, he added hospitably:
"Come along down and have a whisky."
The invitation did not seem to be altogether unwelcome, but like a
true soldier the Colonel's first considerations were evidently for
his duty.
"You have brought the cartridges?" he demanded, with a swift and
slightly suspicious glance round the deck.
"Rather," said Tony, "any amount of 'em." He turned to the second
officer. "You had better start getting those boxes on board the
launch right away," he added. "Colonel Saltero and I are going below
to have a little chat."
He led the way down the companion to his private cabin, and ushering
his guest in closed the door behind them.
"Well, you got Congosta's message all right then," he said, going to
the cupboard and getting out the whisky and soda. "You know what an
unholy mess I've managed to make of things."
The Colonel, who was standing in a stiff and military attitude, made
a slight gesture of assent.
"Sir Antony!" he said, "I am a soldier, and it is my habit to speak
plain words. I will not hide my opinion that with regard to the
Princess you have failed us badly."
Tony splashed out a full-handed allowance of old Glenlivet and
sprinkled it carefully with soda.
"Go on," he said encouragingly. "Say exactly what you like."
He handed the glass to the Colonel, who took a long and apparently
satisfactory drink.
"At the same time," continued the latter, "I do not wish to be
ungrateful. If what Señor Congosta tells me is true, you have done
your best to make up for your fault. These cartridges--" he set down
the empty tumbler--"these cartridges, which I understand you have
presented to the army, may yet be the means of saving Livadia."
"That's good," observed Tony. "But how are you going to get them to
Portriga?"
The Colonel made a gesture with his hand. "There is no difficulty.
The river which you see runs up within two miles of the town, and
both banks are strongly held by our men."
"What about the people here--the coast-guards and police? Are they
on your side?"
Colonel Saltero smiled sombrely. "There are no coast-guards left,"
he said. "As for the police--" he shrugged his shoulders--"some say
that the officer in command here is a friend of Da Freitas, but I do
not think he will interfere with us."
Tony stretched out his hand, and picking up his guest's empty glass
commenced to refill it.
"That sounds all right as far as it goes," he remarked; "but it seems
to me we are up against another pretty stiff problem. If Pedro
marries the Princess, as I suppose he will, it rather knocks the
bottom out of your game--doesn't it?"
For a moment the Colonel hesitated. Despite the gift of the
cartridges, some faint suspicion of Tony's entire good faith seemed
still to linger in his mind.
"We are not without our plans," he replied cautiously.
Without appearing to notice the implied mistrust Tony filled the
tumbler and handed it back to him.
"Of course not," he remarked cheerfully. "You and Señor Congosta are
not the sort of people to leave things to chance. I was only
wondering if I couldn't be of any further help to you. It was all my
fault the Princess was captured, and I want to do everything I can to
make up for it."
This frank and simple speech, or else a second long draught of
Glenlivet which the Colonel promptly poured down his throat, seemed
to have a slightly mellowing effect upon that reserved warrior.
"We have a plan," he repeated, "but I will admit to you, Sir Antony,
that there is much danger. Even now it is known everywhere that the
Princess is in Da Freitas' hands, and already there are those who say
'what is the use of more fighting?' If we had money----"
"Money!" exclaimed Tony. "My dear chap, why didn't you say so
before?" He crossed again to the cupboard, and stooping down took
out two fat white bags, which he placed upon the table with an
agreeable chink.
"I thought it just possible you might be short of cash," he
explained, "so I brought a couple of thousand along with me."
The Colonel's eyes glistened.
"In gold?" he asked hoarsely.
Tony loosened the mouth of one of the bags, and tipped out a little
shining stream of yellow coins.
"All in the best English sovereigns," he said, gathering them up and
replacing them again. Then, with a graceful gesture, he pushed both
bags across the table. "Take them, Colonel," he added. "Take them
from me as a small gift towards the freedom of Livadia."
For a moment the Colonel was too overcome to speak.
"Sir Antony," he exclaimed at last, "you must give me your pardon.
Congosta was right in what he said. I did you a great wrong in ever
doubting your honour." He raised his half empty glass. "I drink,"
he said, "to the saviour of my country."
Tony bowed. "That," he replied, "is a title which I think already
belongs to you--or Señor Congosta."
There was a dramatic pause, and then the Colonel set down his glass.
"I will tell you," he said bluntly, "what it is that we propose to
do. It is right that you should know." With an instinctive glance
round the cabin, as if to make quite certain that there were no
eavesdroppers, he advanced towards the table. "In the afternoon,
yesterday," he went on, "Pedro and Da Freitas landed in Portriga.
They have brought the Princess and the Count de Sé with them.
Already there are notices, placed up all over the town, saying that
on Sunday morning the marriage will take place in the Cathedral."
Tony looked at him with an expression of amazement. "I say!" he
exclaimed. "They haven't wasted much time."
"It is not in the way of Da Freitas to waste time," agreed the
Colonel.
For a moment Tony remained silent. "Well, what are you going to do?"
he asked. "It seems to me that unless you can stop this interesting
little arrangement the whole thing's finished. You can't expect
people to go on fighting for a queen who's already on the throne."
Saltero came a step closer still. "There will be no wedding," he
said grimly. "By ten o'clock to-night the Princess will be in our
hands."
He paused, as if to allow the statement time to sink in.
Tony indulged in a low whistle. "By Jove!" he exclaimed. "How are
you going to work it?"
Once more the Colonel glanced round the cabin, and then sunk his
voice to a kind of low rumble, which was apparently as near as he
could get to a whisper.
"We have found out that the Princess has been taken to the Château of
Saint Anna. It is in the mountains, ten miles from Portriga. The
Count de Saint Anna is an old friend of Pedro's father."
"Are you going to attack the place?" Tony put the question quite
quietly, though his fingers had tightened a little upon the cigarette
that he was holding.
The Colonel shook his head. "It is impossible. There is only one
road up through the hills, and all the approaches to it are held by
Da Freitas' soldiers. A hundred men could defend it against an army.'
"It sounds a bit awkward," said Tony.
Colonel Saltero smiled malevolently. "It is our good fortune," he
continued, "to have had further information. We have learned that at
nine o'clock to-night the Princess will be brought into the town in
order that she may be ready for the ceremony in the morning.
Doubtless there will be an escort--a strong escort, but all the
same--" he paused and his grey eyes narrowed into a couple of
dangerous looking slits--"I do not think that they will ever reach
Portriga. I do not think that they will get further than the bridge
at Valona."
Tony laid down his cigarette. "I hope you will be careful if there's
going to be a scrap," he said anxiously. "I shouldn't like anything
to happen to Isabel. She seemed rather a nice girl."
The Colonel drew himself up a little stiffly. "Our plans have been
well made," he replied. "There will be no danger to the Princess.
By ten o'clock she will be safe with General Almaida."
There was another and longer pause.
"If it comes off," observed Tony slowly, "it will be a nasty jar for
Pedro and Da Freitas."
Once again the Colonel smiled viciously. "It will be the end," he
said. "Da Freitas has staked everything upon this marriage, and if
he cannot bring forward the Princess on Sunday, the whole country
will know that they have been deceived. There will be risings and
riots everywhere: even his own soldiers will turn against him. Then
we shall attack again, and this time there will be no going back.
Before night comes, Isabella will be Queen of Livadia."
He stooped forward, and gathering up the two bags of gold stepped
back from the table.
"Well, it's very good of you to have told me all this," said Tony
gratefully. "It has made me feel much more comfortable in my mind."
He laid his hand upon the whisky bottle. "Have another drink before
we go up?" he suggested.
The Colonel shook his head with some regret.
"I thank you, no," he said. "There are many things to do, and the
time is short. With your permission we will return to the deck."