I am uncomfortably aware that this history of recent events in Salissa
is sadly deficient in the matter of dates. I am not to blame. If I
could I should date each chapter accurately. Unfortunately, not one of
the people chiefly concerned kept a diary. They all remember events
very well and are most willing to describe them for me, but they
cannot remember exactly when things happened. I am therefore
particularly pleased to be able at this point to give two definite
dates. The _Ida_ arrived at Salissa with Gorman on board on July 8.
She left again on July 11. I dragged this information out of Captain
Wilson. He no longer has access to the _Ida's_ log-books. They passed
into Steinwitz' hands and disappeared when his office was closed at
the outbreak of war. But Captain Wilson kept a private notebook. He
referred to it, with considerable reluctance, when I pressed him.
Taking these two dates as fixed, we are able to say for certain that
von Moll reached the island during the night of July 7 and 8, ten days
after the Serajevo assassinations. He was occupied with his business
in the cave all day of July 8. He left Salissa early on July 9. He
might easily have made any one of three or four ports on the mainland
before evening that day. A telegram sent to Berlin might have been in
the hands of some responsible person that night. Smith's letters would
follow at once by a special messenger. We may take it that the
Emperor's secret service agents, perhaps the Emperor himself, knew on
July 10 that the island would not be resold to King Konrad Karl.
The sailing of the _Ida_ so soon as three days after her arrival
puzzled me at first. Captain Wilson would say nothing except that he
obeyed orders. As a matter of fact he seems to have worried everybody
until he got the order he wanted. The _Ida_ carried very little cargo
to the island on her second voyage and was unloaded in a few hours.
Captain Wilson received from the Queen the lists she had prepared of
tools, engines and material for carrying out her schemes of
improvement. He was given a few letters by Donovan and by Smith. Then
there was no reason why he should not start.
Nor was there any reason why Gorman should not have gone with him. It
was, indeed, plainly Gorman's duty to get back to England as quickly
as possible. His mission had completely failed. The Queen would not
sell the island. She would certainly not marry Konrad Karl. Ireland
was at the moment passing through a crisis, and Gorman, as one of her
statesmen, ought to have been at hand with advice. But Gorman--he owes
a good deal of his attractiveness to this--never allows himself to be
hampered by words like "ought" and "duty."
An Irish crisis is an interesting thing; but it is by no means
uncommon, and the details are always more or less the same. The
affairs of Salissa had certain novel features which were exceedingly
attractive and Gorman had never before had an opportunity of mixing
himself up in foreign politics. English statesmen, especially
Liberals, who regard Ireland with serious intensity of feeling, offer
great opportunities to men of Gorman's temperament. But he thought
that still more amusement might be obtained by playing politics with
people like Steinwitz, von Moll, and the immensely pompous Emperor.
Donovan was anxious that Gorman should stay on the island. He
listened, reluctantly, to all the Queen had to tell him. He heard
about the cisterns in the cave. He was told of von Moll's mysterious
activities, of Smith's suspicious conduct, of the Emperor's fixed
determination to get the island back for Konrad Karl. He professed to
regard the whole business as a bore.
"Buried treasure, pirate hoards and other mysteries," he said, "have
no kind of attraction for me. I feel sort of discouraged when they
bubble up round me. You're young, Daisy, and naturally inclined to
romantic joys. Just you butt in and worry round according to your own
fancy. There's only one thing I'd rather you didn't do. Don't get
interfering in any serious way with Smith. Smith's a valuable man."
Later on he spoke to Gorman.
"As a public man," he said, "your time has got value. You're wanted,
Gorman, and that's a fact. The cause of Ireland is a sacred trust and
I'm not speaking against it; but if a subscription to the party funds
would set you free for a month----Now can another patriot be hired at
a reasonable salary to take your place? If he can, you name the figure
and I'll write the cheque. The fact is, it'll be a mighty convenient
thing to me if you'll take hold of things here. Daisy's dead set on
unearthing mysteries. I don't say there aren't any mysteries. There
may be. But it doesn't suit me to be wrapped up in them. Then I
understand that one of your European monarchs is fidgeting round,
wanting to take this island off my hands. Daisy says he's an Emperor.
Now I won't have emperors worrying me. I've never gone in for emperors
to any extent, and I'm not inclined to begin now. I'm a plain American
citizen with democratic principles and a disordered heart. I'd be
obliged to you, Gorman, if you'd stay here and kind of elbow off that
Emperor when he intrudes. There's only one point about which I'd like
you to be careful. I mentioned it to Daisy. She tells me that Smith
answers to the name of Fritz and she regards that as a suspicious
circumstance. Now, it doesn't matter a cent to me whether Smith calls
himself Fritz or Leonardo da Vinci or Ivanovitch Ivanokoff. So long as
he isn't signing cheques one name is as good as another. And if Smith
writes letters to the Emperor--that's what Daisy says--I don't see
that it hurts me any. Every man has his own little pleasures, and in
a free country he oughtn't to be hindered in the pursuit. I've known
men who collected stamps. It seemed foolish to me, but it didn't
interfere with me. Same thing with Smith. I don't happen to care about
writing letters to emperors, but Smith does. See?"
Gorman did not want to worry or annoy Smith in any way. He recognized
the man's value. His mind was more actively curious than Donovan's. He
wanted to know what was going on, what von Moll had been doing, what
the Emperor aimed at, what Smith's real business was, but he also
appreciated, no less than Donovan, good food, comfort and smooth
service. He liked to be sure that his wants would be supplied, his
wishes anticipated, his habits intelligently studied. Without Smith
life on Salissa would be robbed of a great deal which made it
attractive.
When Gorman made up his mind to stay on Salissa he wrote three
letters. One of them was to King Konrad Karl and was addressed to an
hotel in Paris. He said briefly that the Donovans would not sell the
island and that it was not the least use trying to arrange a marriage
with the Queen. He advised the King to enjoy himself as much as he
could in Paris and to spend his money before it was taken from him. He
added a postscript.
"If the Emperor sends a man called von Moll to negotiate with you--a
sort of naval officer who likes giving orders--ask him whether he had
many casualties in his last sea battle."
His next letter was to Steinwitz. In it, too, he announced the
complete failure of his mission.
"The fact is," he added, by way of explanation, "that these Americans
don't know enough about your Emperor to be properly impressed. Could
you send along a good-sized photo of him, in uniform if possible? I am
sure it would have a great effect."
Then he wrote to Sir Bartholomew Bland-Potterton. Knowing how all
members of our governing classes delight in official fussiness he
threw his letter into a telegraphic form.
"Things more complicated than anticipated," he wrote. "Will
Government recognize Salissa as independent state? Query
attitude President U. S. A. Urgent.--GORMAN."
He read over what he had written with extreme satisfaction. It pleased
him to think that Steinwitz would immediately go out and buy an
enormous photograph of the Emperor; that he would send it out to
Salissa with perfect confidence in the effect it would produce. It was
also pleasant to think of Konrad Karl and Madame Ypsilante making
efforts to get rid of the remains of Donovan's money by scattering it
about the streets of Paris. But his despatch to Bland-Potterton
pleased him most of all. He imagined that gentleman, swollen with the
consciousness of important news, dashing off to the Foreign Office in
a taxi-cab, posing Ministers of State with unanswerable conundrums,
very probably ruffling the calm waters of Washington with cablegrams
of inordinate length and fierce urgency.
He rang the bell for Smith.
"I've just written some letters," he said; "will you send them off to
the _Ida_ and ask Captain Wilson to have them posted when he arrives
in London or earlier if he calls at any intermediate port."
"Yes, sir. Certainly, sir. Beg pardon, sir, but will you be staying on
in the palace?"
"For a week or two, Smith."
"Thank you, sir. I'll make all arrangements. Your luggage will be
fetched from the steamer. If you leave your keys with me I'll see to
the unpacking."
Gorman had no keys.
"By the way, Smith, what's your Christian name?"
"Edward, sir."
"I asked," said Gorman, "because I'd a sort of idea that Captain von
Moll called you Fritz last night."
"Very likely, sir. I didn't notice. It struck me, sir--I don't know
whether you noticed it--that the German gentleman wasn't quite himself
after dinner. He might have called me Fritz, mistaking me for some one
else. I understand, sir, that Fritz is a common name in Germany."
"Very likely," said Gorman.
Smith left the room. In ten minutes he was back again.
"Luncheon is served, sir. In the small verandah at the south end of
the palace. Shall I show you the way?"
He guided Gorman to the small verandah, a pleasant, shady place,
opening off the room in which they had dined the night before.
"Is the Queen coming?" asked Gorman.
"I've sent a maid to inform her Majesty the luncheon is served, sir."
Smith stood ready for his duties at the end of the table. Gorman
noticed that three places had been laid.
"Mr. Donovan coming?" he asked.
"No, sir. Mr. Donovan scarcely feels well enough. I'm expecting Mr.
Phillips, sir. He's with her Majesty."
"Ah," said Gorman. "They may be late."
They were late. A quarter of an hour late. Gorman guessed the reason
at once. No formal announcement was made, but he felt certain that in
the course of the morning they had arrived at a satisfactory
understanding and were engaged to be married. Gorman felt satisfied
that the Emperor's plan for the Queen's future was not quite hopeless.
Luncheon was a difficult meal for him. He did his best to keep up a
conversation, but neither the Queen nor Phillips seemed capable of
understanding what he said. If they answered him at all they said
things which were totally irrelevant. For the most part they did not
answer. They gazed at each other a good deal and Gorman detected
Phillips trying to hold the Queen's hand under the table. Philips
dropped his fork three times. The Queen looked very pretty, much
prettier than she had the night before when she was angry with von
Moll.
Gorman, in spite of his cynicism, is a kind-hearted man. It gave him a
great deal of pleasure to see a girl and a boy in a condition of
almost delirious happiness. But he felt that they ought not to be
entirely selfish. They intended, apparently, to go off after luncheon,
to a distant part of the island, accompanied by Kalliope, whom they
could not well shake off. Gorman did not want to be left alone all the
afternoon.
"What about going to that cave?" he said. "I'd rather like to find out
what von Moll was doing there yesterday."
The Queen and Phillips looked at each other. They had done little less
except look at each other since they came in to luncheon. But this
time they looked with a new expression. Instead of fatuous felicity,
their faces suggested disappointment.
"I think we ought to do it," Gorman went on. "That fellow may have
been up to any kind of mischief. By the way, is his cave the one the
cisterns are in?"
"Yes," said the Queen.
"That seems to me to settle it," said Gorman. "We certainly ought to
take the matter up vigorously and at once."
"I suppose so," said Phillips.
Gorman was really anxious to find out what had been going on in the
cave. The fact that von Moll had been acting under the Emperor's
orders stimulated curiosity. It had been puzzling enough to discover,
in England, that the Emperor was very anxious to remove the Donovans
from the island, and was prepared to adopt all sorts of tortuous ways
to get rid of them. It was much more puzzling to find a German naval
officer engaged in storing large quantities of rubber tubing in a
cave. Gorman confesses that he was utterly unable to make any sort of
guess at the meaning of the affair. He was all the more anxious to
begin his investigation.
The Queen and Phillips cheered up a little when the party started for
the cave. Kalliope rowed, as usual. Gorman--all successful politicians
are men of tact--settled himself in the bow of the boat. The Queen and
Phillips were together in the stern and held each other's hands.
Gorman pretended to look at the scenery. Kalliope made no pretence at
all. She watched the lovers with a sympathetic smile. She was in no
way embarrassed by them.
No one--I judge by Gorman's description--was ever more helplessly in
love than Phillips. But even he was roused to other feelings when the
boat grounded on the stony beach in the cave. He slipped his hand from
the Queen's and sprang ashore. Even from the boat, before crossing the
steep stretch of stones, there were some interesting things to be
seen. Von Moll had left his rubber tubing in three great coils in
front of the cisterns. Gorman and the Queen followed Phillips. The
three stood together and stared at the hose. Phillips estimated that
there must have been three or four hundred yards of it. The ends of
each coil were fitted with brass caps intended to screw together. Any
one of them might have been screwed to the cocks of the cisterns.
There were also many large packing-cases, stacked at the end of the
row of cisterns. These were strong, well-made cases and carefully
nailed up. The only tool possessed by the party was Phillips' clasp
knife, a serviceable instrument for many purposes, but no use for
opening well-secured packing-cases. Gorman fetched one of the iron
rowlocks from the boat, but nothing could be done with it. The cases
were very heavy. Gorman and Phillips together could not lift one. It
seemed likely that they contained metal of some sort.
The cisterns stood exactly where the Queen and Phillips had seen them
before. But now they were full instead of being empty. Phillips and
then Gorman tapped them one after another. They were all full, up to
the very tops. Phillips wasted no time in speculating about what they
contained. The rubber hose was unintelligible. The packing-cases could
not be opened. It was at all events possible to find out what the
cisterns contained. Phillips turned on one of the taps. A thin,
strongly smelling liquid streamed out.
"I know that smell," said the Queen. "It's--it's----"
It is extraordinarily difficult to recognize a smell in such a way as
to say definitely what it belongs to. Phillips and Gorman sniffed.
Like the Queen they knew the smell but could not name it. It was
Gorman who fixed it first.
"Petrol," he said.
"Of course," said the Queen. "I knew I recognized it."
"That's it," said Phillips. "I was thinking of Elliman's Embrocation;
but it's petrol, of course."
"There must be gallons of it here," said Gorman. "Thousands of
gallons."
Phillips, stretching his arms wide, began to make rough measurements
of the cisterns.
"Now why on earth," said Gorman, "should the Emperor want to store up
huge quantities of petrol in this cave?"
It seems odd now that any one could possibly have failed to guess what
the petrol was for and why it was there. But early in 1914 very few
people were thinking about a war with Germany. Gorman, as a
politician, must have heard some talk of such a possibility; but no
doubt he regarded all he heard as part of the game that politicians
play. Gorman is a man with the instincts of a sportsman. He thought,
without any bitterness, of the war threat as a move, not a very astute
move, on the part of an imperialist party anxious for office. It was
comparable to those which his own party played. The Queen and
Phillips had never thought about European politics at all.
And nobody, at that time, had guessed at the part which submarines
were to play in war. Civilians, even well-informed men like Gorman,
regarded submarines as toys, chiefly dangerous to the crews who manned
them. Phillips probably knew how they were propelled. Gorman did not.
He had never given a thought to the subject. Like most of the rest of
us he associated petrol only with motor-cars or possibly with flying
machines. It did not connect itself in his mind with submarines.
"That Emperor!" said Gorman. "I'm hanged if I understand."
"The Emperor?" said the Queen. "Why should the Emperor be mixed up
with it?"
"Why should the Emperor be mixed up with the island?" said Gorman.
"Why should the Emperor be mixed up with you? Why should the Emperor
be mixed up with anything? I don't know. I can't guess. But it was the
Emperor who sent the stuff here."
Phillips was a young man of practical mind, very little given to
inquiring into causes and reasons. But he had a thoroughly British
respect for the rights of property and the privileges of ownership.
"Anyhow," he said, "he's no earthly right to dump his stuff here
without asking leave. Salissa isn't his island."
From the tap which he had already turned on the petrol was flowing
freely. It trickled down among the stones, and some of it had already
reached the sea. It was spreading, a smooth, thin film across the
water of the cave.
"I vote we run it all off," he said.
He looked at the Queen and then at Gorman.
"If a man puts his cow on my lawn," said Gorman, "I suppose I've a
right to turn it out again."
That was approval enough for Phillips. He walked deliberately along
the line of cisterns, turning on the taps as he went.
"Hold on a minute," said Gorman. "We don't want the stuff flowing over
the Queen's shoes. She must get into the boat."
A few minutes later the water of the cave was entirely covered with
petrol. The air was acrid with the smell of it. The Queen held her
handkerchief to her nose.
"Let's get out of this as quick as we can," she said.