The Cruise of the Conqueror Being the Further Adventures of the Motor PirateG Sidney Paternoster | Linnaru- - - - - - - - · · · · · · · · · · NYPL RESEARCHILIBRARIES ||||||||||||| 3 34.33 O7574977 4 |- |- |-|-|-|-|- · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·|- |-|-|-|-|------------- |- -------- --- -----|- - -|-- - - - - - -- - - ---------|- - -|----- -----|-|-- - -· |- |- |- |- |- |- |- - |- |- |----- |- |- |- |-|- |- ---- |- |- |- ---- wº e...º nº. . . N i = THE CRUISE OF THE CONQUEROR Works of G3. 5ioneg ternogter Cbe MNotor ºitate . . $1.50 Cbe Cruise of the Conqueror 1.50 Being the Further Adventures of the Motor Pirate. TL. C. Dage & Company New England Building, Boston, Mass. “With the BURSTING OF The Shell, WE AT LAST GAIN ED A VIEW OF OUR Advers ARY " (See page 193) : 9). 'ttſ, Che Cruise of the " . Conqueror Bºrº the Further Adventures of the Motor ºiratº --- 33p 3. *ſūney ºattritogter Author of “The Mctor Pirate,” etc. º f | *itº a frontispiece by frank C. fºetrºl t - - - | ºf *306tom * * º: º: L. C. 19832 & Comº * * * * ſº tº |-l. 3, . - - - - -- * |-|- * * -* * |-|-* *.！ · →* - *|× ·---- |-|-*！ |-！ |-* -|- |-…**. • “.* ·●---- ·！• * |-* ·|-|- * * |×|-----|- * * s- ------ * * * * * * N. c. t vºw tº c. º, tº . H. &. Che Cruise of the Conqueror Being the Further * of the Motor Pirate ^ 36p (5, #fbney paternoster Author of “The Motor Pirate,” etc. #ith a frontispiete hp frank (J. ſherrill Mostºn * * * º L. C. 49age & Company: '...}. # * * * {{! (!! #115 if + T º poisarso ºr * - - M MERCANTILE LIBRARY Associatiº NEW YORK CITY --- To NEW YOR PUBLIC LIEFAry 16 i 812A As Tºº, Lºnex AND *11-DEn roundations R 1924 L Copyright, 1905 By Street & SMITH Copyright, 1906 By L. C. PAGE & CoMPANY (INcorporarED) All rights reserved First Impression, March, 1906 * * * * - - - * * * -- - - * * * - - ** * - - - - - - * * * * ~ * * - - * - - - - - - * * * - - - * * * * * w - * - - - - - * - - - - - * * * * * - COLONIAL PRESS Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. Boston, U.S.A. Chaptert III. IV. XII. XIII. XIV. XV. XVI. XVII. XVIII. CONTENTS THE Coming of THE ConqueroR THE LAst RAce For THE CRoss-CHANNEL CUP - - - - - - RELATEs How THE DEAD CAME to LIFE . OF THE LIVING Who BECAME As DEAD . I Los E MY IDENTITY . - - - - IN WHICH THE PIRATE Holds UP THE DUNSTER CAstle - - - - CoNCERNING THE FRUITs of A PIRATE's PHILosophy - - - - - TELLING of ANot HER MEETING of the MIST witH THE PIRATE . - - - CoNCERNING SoME of THE DELIGHTs of DEATH - - WE Hold A Council of WAR . - WHEREIN My Ghost WALKs - IN WHICH MANNERING EscAPES THE ToILs I DECIDE TO RETAIN MY GHOSTLY CHAR- ACTER - - - - - IN WHICH I START ON A CRUISE - - TELLING of THE Discovery INSPEctoR Forrest HAD MADE - - - IN WHICH WE ARE ConFRONTED with A MYSTERY of THE SEA WE MEET THE MARY . - - - WHIch TELLs of A PIRATE's CAPACIty For LIQUOR - - - - - 55 65 75 95 105 115 125 135 145 Contents Shows How THE ConqueroR JUSTIFIEs HER NAME . - - - - - IN WHICH THE MARY MEETs witH PoETIC Page 186 XXII. XXIII. XXIV. XXV. XXVI. XXVII. XXVIII. XXIX. XXX. Justice . - - - - - WE ARRIVE AT PoET MAHON . - - OF THE USE of A WATCH - - THE PIRATE INviTEs Evie To DINNER THE PIRATE STILL LINGERs IN LONDoN . WE RENEW THE PURs UIT - - - WHICH TELLs How THE ConqueroR OUT- MANOEUVRED Us - - - WHEREIN WE FIND A LIKELY HARBour WE STRIKE A Hot ScKNT. Found AND Lost - THE CAPTURE of THE ConqueroR . 197 207 218 228 239 250 261 272 283 294 306 MERCANTHELIBRARY, NEW YORK. THE CRUISE OF THE CONQUEROR CHAPTER I. THE COMING OF THE CONQUEROR WHEN, eight years ago, I laid down my pen after telling, as plainly as my poor abilities would allow, the history of Randolph Mannering, known to fame as the Motor Pirate, that prince of criminals who, with his mysterious motor-car, had spread consternation throughout the length and breadth of the land, I had imagined that certainly not in this world, and I fer- vently hoped not in the next, should I look upon his dark, handsome face again. Indeed, there was warrant for my belief that he had long since gone to his doom. No one who had stood, as I had stood, on the edge of the cliff at Land's End and looked down upon the sea boiling amongst the rocks beneath, could ever have im- agined that the man who had taken that awful plunge could survive. I could never recall the experience and think how near I had been to sharing a similar fate without a shudder. For a long time, in fact, the mem- ory was sufficient to destroy the delight I had customa- rily felt in watching a beautiful sunset. When I looked upon the gathering glow in the west there would arise 1 2 The Cruise of the Conqueror before my eyes the picture of the sun setting over the sea as on that evening when Mannering escaped us. I saw again the fire-streaked sky, the Longships standing up like a pillar of black marble against the light, and the Cassiterides hanging cloudlike on the horizon, and where Mannering had been — nothing. I had no doubt then that he had met the fate he so richly merited, and for seven years I remained in happy confidence that mine enemy was dead. If any one had even ventured to hint at the possibility of his escape I should have laughed him to scorn. It was nothing to me that his body had never been found. The sea at Land's End is tenacious of its prey, and hides its victims away in its deep pools and dark caverns when it does not tear their bodies limb from limb in its wild play amongst the sharp-toothed rocks. If I had not felt assured of his death I should not have had a mo- ment’s peace. Nor would my wife. For seven years Evie, I am certain, never laid her head on the pillow at night without breathing a prayer of thankfulness that Mannering was dead. Then the unexpected hap- pened, as it always does happen. On August 15th, 19—, the dead came to life. On that day I looked again on the face of Randolph Mannering. But before I write of that meeting let me chronicle briefly what had happened to myself during the seven years which had passed peacefully over my head, for it was owing to a change which had taken place in my pursuits that I found my life once again identified with the exploits of this singular personality. The Coming of the Conqueror 3 These seven years were very peaceful, very happy, years to me. They had brought changes with them, of course. My aunt, good old soul, to whom I owed my introduction to Evie, had gone the way of all good old souls, and had left me a very comfortable addition to my estate. That is the only death I have to chron- icle. Colonel Maitland was well and hearty, and just as capable of judging a wine or an entrée as he had ever been. Inspector Forrest still remained at Scot- land Yard, and had even refused the promotion which had been offered him more than once, because he would not give up the excitement of the active pursuit of crim- inals for bureaucratic service, while his assistant Laver had also attained to an inspectorship. But the chief change which had taken place in my habits had been directly due to the Motor Pirate. For a long time after my wedding I had practically given up motoring. It was not of my own volition. It grieved me horribly to see my beautiful Mercédès standing idle in the garage day after day, but the fact was that Evie had got a hor- ror of the pastime. I was not exactly surprised at this in view of what she had gone through, though I did regret that her horror extended so far as to debar me from even an occasional ride in my car. She managed to get over the fear in time. As a matter of fact, the arrival of a second Evie on the scene drove away the brooding horror of the past. With her little hands— they were really the most perfect models of hands I ever saw — and her clear gray eyes—she inherited 4 The Cruise of the Conqueror those from her mother, too — she soon scattered all the ghastly memories of the Motor Pirate. But before this ray of sunshine came to brighten our lives, I had turned from motoring on land to an- other branch of the sport. Once infected with the fascination of motor travel one is inoculated for life. It is not a disease like scarlet fever or the measles. Some of the old-fashioned squires who have been dragged about the country at the tails of a pair of bays for six score years would possibly declare the disease bears a greater resemblance to leprosy, and the com- parison holds in so far as there is no cure but anni- hilation of the patient for either. Well, the fascina- tion of motoring had so gripped me, that being be- barred from the use of my car through Evie's fears, I turned my attention to motor-boating. I found my reward, not only in my wife's smiles, though those alone would have been ample repayment, but in the sport itself. Motoring on land with a 40 or 60 h.p. engine throbbing under the bonnet of the car, when, coming into the straight, you see a white ribbon of road stretch- ing for miles ahead, and giving her a full dose of petrol you sit firm while the hedges flit by like a skein of green silk, is exciting enough, but it is nothing to the sensation which grips you when you take the wheel of the motor-boat in your hand and put her full speed ahead in the face of a twenty-mile breeze. Doctors recommend vibration treatment for many purposes nowadays, but I will guarantee that there is no vibra- tion so exhilarating as that produced by the swiftly The Coming of the Conqueror 5 moving screw of the motor-boat and — well, any one who has been at the wheel of a motor-boat in a race which goes to the swift will tell you more of the de- lights than I have space for. I did not know this, of course, when I started my boating career. For one reason I did not commence with anything great in the way of either speed or power. We had taken a cottage at Bourne End soon after we were married, for the air of my Norfolk home had proved too bracing for Evie, and the Thames does not provide a great deal of opportunity for speed trials. I started with a little 14 h.p. Brooke, and when she became insufficient for my desires, I bought a 28 b.h. p. Thornycroft, only to find that I could never get an opportunity of finding out her capabilities without in- terfering with the comfort of the adoring couples who drift down the river in skiff or canoe absolutely regard- less of anything in the universe but themselves. I felt sympathetically towards them in those days, I remem- ber, and so I determined to find some spot where I could indulge in my new hobby without interfering with anybody. It was owing to this desire that I eventually found myself settled at Salcombe, and any one who has once found his way to that secluded little town nestling be- tween the Start and Bolt Head must needs agree with me that of all the beauty spots in the beautiful west country there is none to beat and few to compare with it. But its beauty was only one of its recommendations in my eyes. For any one fond of boating there is no * 6 The Cruise of the Conqueror more delightful place in the kingdom. Whatever the weather may happen to be, the estuary which runs into Kingsbridge some ten miles distant is available at all tides. Outside the bar, which makes entrance to the harbour impossible to anything but comparatively small craft, the seas may thunder and roar, but inside the fiercest sou’wester is powerless for harm. Time was when the little town tucked away under shelter of the cliffs sent its ships to do their part in the wars with the Spaniards and its sons to win their meed of fame under Drake and Raleigh. But that day has long since passed by, and now its inhabitants engage in more peaceful pursuits, in fishing and taking in each other's washing, and in welcoming the select little band of summer visitors who prize its natural attractions far beyond the more garish delights of popular watering- places. When once I had seen Salcombe I decided that there was no other place which would suit me half so well, and Evie fell in love with it so soon as she had seen it, even as I had done, and so for the past five years I should think we have spent six months at least of every year in its delightful atmosphere. Here I found every facility for indulgence in my new hobby, and when my aunt died — finding I had a good sum of ready cash available — I set up a workshop and began to build a boat of my own. Yes, the fasci- nation of the sport had got hold of me to such an ex- tent that nothing would satisfy me short of trying my luck in the great international contests, and I set to The Coming of the Conqueror 7 work to build a boat which should fulfil my ambi- tions. Very proud of her I was when the boat took the water. There was a curious little incident which ac- companied her christening. She was to have been named the Eve, and my little daughter was to have performed the ceremony, but in her excitement she threw the bottle of champagne — I had provided a flask of specially thin glass for the purpose—so far that if my engineer had not given the boat a hearty shove the bottle would have missed her altogether. As it was, instead of saying “I name you the Eve,” she said, “I name you the – missed — oh, no, it hasn’t. Whatever shall we do, father? The boat is in the water.” “The Mist you’ve called her, Missy,” said my en- gineer, “and a fairer name for a flyer I’ve never heard tell of, not to say as the Eve mightn't have lived up to her reputation for tempting a man to destruction, and it's as unlucky to give a boat a bad name as a dog.” A curious character was Nat Sanders. A red-haired, yellow-bearded, wiry little man, with a grip like iron and a love for his engines only equalled by his super- stitious fears. The latter must have come from the Scotch blood in him. - “It would be just temptin’ Providence to call her the Eve,” he continued. “Yes,” I replied. “You have given her a name, Evie, and you cannot give her another.” “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, screwing 8 The Cruise of the Conqueror up her little forehead. “I is quite sure I didn’t call her anything.” “You called her the Mist, and a “Mist of the Sea she will prove to be if my anticipations are correct. She ought to be fast enough to look more like a mist- wreath than anything else to all observers.” She clapped her hands gaily. “The “Mist of the Sea’ is ever so much prettier a name than “Eve.’” I did not agree with that, but the Mist she remained, nevertheless. She was a beautiful boat, 40 ft. long, 4 ft. 6 in. in the beam, and her lines — well, I have heard men rave about the curves of the Venus de Milo, but if the model for that Venus had happened to have had one curve equal to the sheer of the Mist she would have had reason to have considered herself a proud woman. And she was as powerful as she was beautiful. I had engined her heavily, too heavily I thought, but Sanders was of another opinion, and I let him put into her two four-cylinder engines, developing 250 h.p. to drive her twin screws. He said that as she was built of special mild steel throughout she would be able to stand it easily, and I hoped he would prove a truthful prophet. I shall never forget my delight when I found that she answered to my expectations. I had only Sanders with me when I first put her full speed ahead, and though I had made as certain as was humanly possible that in every detail she was sound and tight, yet there was a possibility that under the enormous strain of the screws she might bend and break up like an old tin The Coming of the Conqueror 9 kettle if there was a flaw anywhere. But she developed no defect, and with the two screws buzzing like a whole hive of bees I learned what perfect motion was. It was a beautiful June day with just enough breeze to set the little flag in the stern fluttering, but as soon as she felt her engines the flag stood out as stiff as a piece of cardboard, and the breeze I had to face as I stood wheel in hand was a twenty-five knot breeze. Yes, that was the speed she developed at her first trial, and afterward over a measured course on the Kings- bridge River, as our estuary was named, I managed to get a fair thirty knots out of her. But I must not linger over the description of my new acquisition, though I could dwell upon her mani- fold excellencies for a month. Beautiful as she was it would have been better for me and better for those dear to me if she had been broken up into scrap-iron and sunk beneath the calm waters of the Kingsbridge River at that first trial. Then I should probably never again have looked upon the face of my dreaded rival, never again have been compelled to match my strength and cunning against his, not only in self-preservation, but in a fight for the life and safety of those dear to me. But I anticipate. However, the Mist fulfilled my anticipations, and when, after a number of trials, I succeeded in getting thirty knots out of her, I confidently anticipated that I should not only be able to carry off the International Cup, but stand a very good chance in the Cross-Chan- nel Race. I should like to tell how the Mist brought 10 The Cruise of the Conqueror back the cup to British waters, but that has nothing to do with the further history of the Motor Pirate. It was a great race, and if my American opponent had not blown out one of her sparking plugs ten minutes before the finish, I am not certain that the cup would not have gone across the Atlantic. Once the American was out of it there was nothing left to beat, for the French boat was some distance behind, and the Mist, lasting to the end, won an easy victory. Still it was with the knowledge that the Mist would have to do her best in the Cross-Channel contests that I took her on to Calais for the other event. I knew the American would be thoroughly overhauled, so I saw that nothing in my own boat was wanting, and the night before the race I felt pretty confident as to the result, and so, I fancy, did my rival. But the adage of the cup and the lip once more proved its accuracy. When I turned out of bed on the morning of the fifteenth my first glance was at the sky. It was cloudless, and there was just that haze on the horizon which gave promise of a hot, windless day. For my own part I should have been glad to have seen signs of a breeze, for I fancied that the Mist would be better able to stand a little sea than the Challenger, my American rival. But the Channel was calm as a pond, and with the consciousness that the Mist would have to do all she knew I looked forward to a really great time. Having satisfied myself as to weather prospects, I looked down into the harbour where the Mist lay The Coming of the Conqueror 11 amongst a fleet of motor-boats of all sorts and sizes. Then I received a great surprise. An addition had been made to the fleet since the previous night, for resting serenely half a cable's length from the Mist lay a boat which glowed in the morning sun as if she had been built of burnished gold. “Hullo! ” I cried. “What boat is that?” My cry awakened my wife, and rubbing her eyes she was soon by my side and looking at the stranger. She had insisted on being present at the race, and had come over by the Queen on the previous day accom- panied by Evie, whom, indeed, I had been half-inclined to allow to accompany Sanders and me on this occasion. We both looked down upon the stranger with con- siderable interest, and, indeed, she could not have failed to attract attention anywhere. I soon saw that I was not the only person interested in her, and as I was too far off to satisfy my curiosity I slipped into my flannels and ran down-stairs to join the little group of observers already gazing upon her from the pier. Little I guessed, and little any one else in the group gathered on the pier guessed, who was the owner of the golden boat which rocked so lightly on the surface of the water, and in what desperate deeds she was so shortly to play a part. If the least suspicion had been awakened in any one's mind, I dare swear that there would not have been a single man in the group who would not have gladly lent a hand in at once putting an end to any opportunity she would have had for mischief. CHAPTER II. THE RACE FOR THE CROSS - CHANNEL CUP UPoN reaching the pier I gazed at the new arrival for a couple of minutes, taking in all the detail I could. She was a beautiful boat and well worth scru- tiny. The man who built her evidently knew some- thing about boat-building, and I wondered that noth- ing had hitherto appeared about her in the press. It was not only her size that made her remarkable, though that was the point which first struck the observer. She dwarfed every other boat in the basin. So far as I could judge she boasted an 80 ft. run and a 9 ft. beam, being just about double the size of the Mist, and I knew that if she was engined to her apparent capacity and in a style to match the build of her hull, that, barring accidents, the Mist would have to forego the honour of finishing first in the day's race, even though she might win in her class. I was still engaged in my scrutiny, for I must con- fess the lines of the golden boat had put me somewhat out of conceit with the Mist, when a dry voice re- marked in my ear, “A gude-lookin’ boat, yon, Mr. Sutgrove?” I had not observed Sanders's approach, and as I 12 The Race for the Cup 13 turned to him I remarked, “Much too good-looking to please me. If she is as good as she looks I'm afraid the race is over so far as we are concerned.” “All's not gold that gleeters,” replied my engineer, sententiously, as he produced a half-consumed cigar from his waistcoat pocket and placed it between his teeth. “Though I’m not sayin’ as aluminium bronze isn’t better than gold when it comes to boat-build- ing.” “So that's what she's built of, is it?” I asked. “I wondered what it might be.” “Aluminium bronze by the polish she wears,” he continued, “and if she's not a millionaire's toy kettle, I’m no so certain as she will not bustle us a little into cuttin' a few seconds off our record when it comes to racin’.” I laughed at Sanders's calm assumption of the supe- riority of our own boat. “Ye may laugh,” he said, gravely. “But no race is finished till it's ended, and, spite of the ornamental exteerior, yon boat may not be in the first flight, after all.” “We should have a better chance of gauging her capabilities if we could overhaul her engines,” I re- marked. “Preceesely,” he replied, “ or, failin’ that, if we knew the name of the mon as built ’em.” “Well, we can hardly overhaul the engines in the owner's absence and without his permission,” I said. “But there might be a chance of learning something 14 The Cruise of the Conqueror about her from her engineer. He must be staying in Calais.” - “Same hotel as ourselves,” Sanders answered. “I’ve discovered that much an’ that her name is the Con- queror, but as for finding out anything else it’s like trying to pump your feed-tank full from an empty storage.” “You have tried, then?” I inquired. “Tried?” answered Sanders. “Tried? The engi- neer who designed that man forgot to supply him with an exhaust valve. Every man will talk about the thing he loves, whether it's wife or bairns or engines, —leastways until I met that one-eyed, lop-eared black- smith as greases that pretty tin toy yonder, I was of that opinion, but as for him, nothin’ softer than a cold chisel would open his jaw.” He rammed his fists into his pockets as he spoke and chewed the stump of his cigar viciously, so that I guessed that his thirst for knowledge regarding a possible rival had been un- slaked by a single drop of information. “Well, we shall soon see what the stranger is made of if he starts,” I said. “We shall have the opportunity, right enough,” said Sanders. “Her owner hasn’t brought her all the way from the other side of nowhere for nothing.” “Whom does she belong to?” I asked. “I can’t exactly remember his name,” said Sanders. “All I know is that she is one of the dark horses which had been entered and nobody expected to turn up. Belongs to a Spanish Don by all accounts.” The Race for the Cup 15 º “Oh! Then we may not have much to fear, after all,” I remarked, and, feeling much more comfortable, I turned on my heel and made for the end of the pier. It is true I had not anticipated meeting a competitor of such size, though, of course, I had been aware that the new rule made it quite possible that the Mist might have to meet a rival double her size. But, after all, if we were going to be beaten, it was no use worrying about it beforehand, and there would be plenty of opportunity in the future for having another shot for victory. So I had my dip in the sea and returned to the hotel for my coffee and rolls before taking my wife and Evie for a short spin in the Mist in order to make sure that everything was in perfect order. There was no doubt on this important point, and it was with a renewal of confidence that we returned to our hotel for déjeuner. By the time our meal was finished, the Queen was blow- ing her horn as a signal for the passengers to go aboard, since, warned by previous experience, the captain was aware that, if his passengers were to see anything of the race, he would have to start well ahead of the motor- boats. So I convoyed my wife and Evie on board and returned to the landing-stage, where Sanders awaited me with the Mist. Meanwhile I had inquired at the hotel as to the owner of the golden boat, and had been informed that Sanders’s information had been correct. The owner had arrived late the previous night and had given his name as Don Juan Davila de Leon, and when I heard 16 The Cruise of the Conqueror it I laughed. The idea of being beaten by a Spaniard seemed too ridiculous to be entertained for a moment, and, when Sanders inquired whether I had discovered anything concerning the new competitor, I assured him that we should have more to fear from our old rival, the American Challenger, than from the unknown. We had no time to discuss the matter, for at this moment the warning gun was fired, and, donning our oilskins, we stepped aboard, and, leaving Sanders to start the engines, I went to the wheel, and the moment she felt the helm I moved quietly down to my station. As it happened, the Mist was one of the last boats to take her place, and I observed that the Conqueror occupied the farthest station to port, lying barely a cable’s length from the French destroyer which had been commissioned to accompany the race. As for the boat I really feared, the Challenger, she occupied the next station to mine, also to port. One advantage I had over both these competitors. Twice previously I had steered the Mist over the course, while neither of them had, so far as I knew, such an experience, and their skippers would, therefore, have to depend upon a merely theoretical knowledge of the currents. But there was not much time to take many obser- vations. The Queen was already a mile away, and the fleet of boats only awaited the signal to start. I felt my heart beginning to beat faster as the moment ar- rived, – there is nothing tries my nerves so much as the strain of such a moment, — and the boom of the start- ing gun was like music to my ears, even though the The Race for the Cup 17 * clatter of the engines from the open exhaust nearly drowned it. I did not wait to hear the report, though. The instant I saw the white puff of smoke, jamming down the starting lever, I felt the clutch hold, and the next moment the throb of the engine running free was exchanged for a steady vibration as the propeller bit the water. The Mist behaved like the little lady she had always showed herself to be. It seemed as if she had gauged the extent of the task before her. Gently I increased the supply of petrol, and within fifteen seconds of the start she was running at her top speed, and doing so as easily as if she was merely working at half-pressure on the Kingsbridge River. Jove! I was pleased with her. I ventured to cast a glance round, and I saw that I had slipped my competitors, though not by a great deal, for the Challenger was coming along like a meteor on my quarter, and close behind her half a dozen other boats were slipping through the water at a pace which showed that reliability would prove as essential as speed in the final result. “We shall want all we’ve got,” I shouted to San- ders, “though if we don’t manage to get a bit more before we are through, I shall be surprised.” He answered me with a happy chuckle. “The Spaniard seems to have got left,” he said, a moment later, and it was my turn to chuckle. Then, feeling the tide, I brought the Mist closer into the stream, for I knew that the tide would be run- ning more strongly when we approached Dover, and v I intended to make use of my knowledge. The ** 18 The Cruise of the Conqueror lenger did not follow my example, but, making a straight point for Dover, was soon, to all appearances, ahead of me. The tide was even stronger than I had anticipated, so I held on my course until Sanders became uneasy, for he asked me, anxiously, “Are ye no holding on too long to starboard, Mr. Sutgrove? It’s a long way out of our course you are taking us.” “You will see in a minute,” I answered, glancing round. Though only five minutes had elapsed since the start, the fleet was scattered already. Some of the lighter boats were steering the course I had set, but the ma- jority, depending upon their strength, had made no allowance for the drift and were spread out like a fan. I felt quite satisfied with my position, and so far as I could see the race was at our mercy. It is true the Challenger was nearer home, but I knew that when, in my turn, I chose to take advantage of the tide, I should soon pick up all I had lost. But I had reckoned without one competitor. I was soon to discover that the Conqueror was determined to justify her name. Whatever had detained her at the start, — I heard afterward that she had waited until every other boat had cleared the harbour before start- ing in the most leisurely fashion, — she soon began to pick up her competitors. I had ceased to think about her until about twenty minutes from the gun-fire. Then the first intimation I had that she was in the race at all was a flash of golden light, as far as I could judge, about a couple of miles astern, and I could see that The Race for the Cup 19 the Spaniard was steering the same course as ourselves. I called Sanders's attention to her. “There's the toy boat,” I cried. “What's her chance of picking up the Mist now?” Sanders raised a pair of field-glasses to his eyes and gazed steadily in her direction. Then, laying them down, he turned his attention to the petrol pump. “There's no hurry for more petrol,” I remarked, banteringly. “You pumped the feed-tank full barely half a minute ago.” “It’s no use takin’ any risks with a fast craft like that on your quarter,” he remarked. I looked again in her direction. It seemed as if Sanders's uneasiness was not without warrant. The golden light was something more than an occasional flash now, it was a continual reflection. I saw her shoot by one of the boats which was plugging manfully along, although hopelessly out of it, but even now I did not credit that she would be able to wipe off the distance by which the Mist was leading. By this time I reckoned that I had fetched far enough to the east- ward, and I put the Mist a couple of points nearer her true course. I heard Sanders give a grunt of sat- isfaction. The Mist darted away on her new course, and she seemed to skim the surface of the water as she shot on towards her goal. I determined not to look back, and for five minutes I kept my resolution. It was the exclamation of Sanders, “She’s creeping up,” which made me break it. He was right. In one glance I could see that the 20 The Cruise of the Conqueror stranger had diminished our lead by half. Again I looked eagerly ahead. The white cliffs were growing bigger every second, and I shouted to Sanders to give me the time. “One fifty-five, preceesely,” he answered. We had started at one-thirty exactly, and I knew that, as the Mist had been doing if anything a little more than her previous best, we were nearly two- thirds of the way across. Two minutes later I looked back again. The stranger was still creeping up. I could see the head of her skipper looking out over the bonnet. “If she can keep it up, we are beaten,” I said. “By the lop-eared Belfast blacksmith,” growled Sanders, and again I heard him pumping savagely at the petrol pump. “And what about the American P” I asked. “We shall beat him, anyway,” answered the engi- neer. “He’s laying up for the harbour in the teeth of the tide, and we are doing two feet to his one, I reckon.” At this moment I became aware of the beat of an- other screw besides our own. The stranger was coming on with an irresistible rush, and, in spite of my dis- appointment, I could not help admiring her. Her motion was scarcely that of a boat, she rode so lightly on the surface. She was more like some gorgeous bird, and it would not have surprised me to see her unfold a pair of wings and take to flight. Only the huge wash astern and the growl of her propellers told of the ex- The Race for the Cup 21 traordinary power of the engines that drove her onwards at such incredible speed. “I only wish he may blow his sparking plugs out,” I heard Sanders mutter viciously. “It’s taken him just twelve minutes, since I gave you the time, for him to overtake us.” “At that rate,” I replied, after a rapid calculation, “he must be travelling close on forty knots.” “He’s doing a bit more than that,” answered the engineer. “It’s impossible,” I replied. “There must be some- thing wrong with the Mist.” She drew level, and, as she did so, her skipper, stand- ing at the wheel, courteously lifted his hat. I re- sponded, and in a moment she was ahead and leaving us every second. “You will find there is nothing wrong with the Mist when you see the time,” remarked Sanders, “and if you had made her an eighty-footer and had given her 500 h.p. engines, we should have beaten that chap by just as much as he has beaten us.” ** “Something may happen yet,” I said, voicing a hope I was far from feeling. We were heading straight for the harbour, and we could see the fringe of people lining the front, and gathered in a black mass on the pier-head. The Con- queror continued to shoot ahead, and the boom of a gun, followed by a roar of cheers, announced to us that we perforce had to be contented with second place. The Spaniard got home just eight seconds ahead of 22 The Cruise of the Conqueror us, our time being thirty-eight minutes ten and a fifth, and the Challenger finishing five seconds later, with two Frenchmen and a German close at his stern. I felt pretty sick at the result. Not that I had any fault to find with the Mist. She had covered the course of forty-one kilometres at practically thirty-five knots for the whole distance. But I reckoned that the winner could travel forty knots to my thirty-five, and naturally I was dissatisfied. An additional aggravation was that the winner was a nonentity in the motor world, at least so far as I knew. I think I am sportsman enough to take a licking philosophically, but one does like to know something of the person at whose hands one suffers defeat. I was to know before long, but the knowledge was not to comfort me. I obtained it, indeed, that same evening when I strolled out on to the pier to smoke my after-dinner cigar. To everybody's surprise, the winner of the race had taken a private room at the Lord Warden, and had managed to set at defiance even the ubiquitous pressmen. I was not a little interested, therefore, to see the golden boat drawn up at a landing- stage, and a couple of men standing on the stage as if about to embark. The opportunity for finding out something about my successful rival was too good to be missed. Besides, after dinner I felt in a more equable frame of mind and quite capable of congratulating my opponent. So passing down the steps I approached the owner of the The Race for the Cup 23 Conqueror, and, raising my cap, I said: “Allow me to congratulate you on your win, señor.” His face was in deep shadow, but as I spoke the stranger came forward into the light. “Hullo, Sutgrove,” he remarked. “So we have met again, eh?” I could neither speak nor move. It was Mannering. *** CHAPTER III. RELATES HOW THE DEAD CAME TO LIFE To be suddenly confronted with a man whom one had seen plunge, apparently to certain destruction, from the cliff at Land's End is enough, I should imagine, to paralyze anybody’s faculties, and I confess I stood and stared at him as if he were veritably a ghost. “You? you?” I gasped, when at last I recovered the use of my tongue. “Impossible!” “Nothing's impossible,” he answered, coolly, “not even for the dead to return to life.” The sneer which curved his lips as he spoke re- awakened me to the full use of my faculties, and I remembered that I was in the presence of my deadliest enemy, the man who had sought to steal away my bride and at the same time to lure me to my own destruction. As in the past, he seemed to be gifted with the power of reading my thoughts. “You need not be afraid,” he said, with another sneer. “I do not intend at the present moment to exact payment for your impertinent interference with my affairs, unless”—he tapped his pocket significantly —“unless I find it essential for my own safety to get rid of you forthwith.” 24 • * * How the Dead Came to Life 25 “I am extremely obliged to you,” I answered, with an assumption of indifference I was far from feeling, “but I am very well prepared to take care of myself,” and I imitated his action by tapping the spot where my hip pocket should have been. He laughed before he replied, “Pooh! Sutgrove, what is the use of trying that sort of bluff upon me? Englishmen don’t carry pistols in their pockets when they take an after-dinner stroll on the pier. At least, I don’t suppose they have acquired the habit since the Motor Pirate came to such a melodramatic end.” I had nothing to say in reply. I could only stare at him helplessly, and, as he laughed again, he re- minded me of a cat playing with a mouse. I was just considering whether I should not spring upon him and take my chance of coming out of the encounter successfully, when he remarked, quietly: “I am not at all sorry we have met, Sutgrove; it will be like old times to have a chat with you.” I muttered something or other while I glanced about me to see if there was any one at hand upon whom? I would call for assistance. We had the landing-stage to ourselves, and I observed that Mannering's com- panion had placed himself at the head of the steps by which I had descended to it. My escape that way was clearly cut off. I realized, too, that if I threw myself upon Mannering he would have plenty of time to make an end of me and escape in his boat without a chance of capture. There was nothing to be done but make the best of the position and await an oppor- 26 The Cruise of the Conqueror tunity, and yet, though realizing this, I could not help remarking: “I don’t know but that I could have spared myself the pleasure of meeting you again.” “The pleasure is mine. I was not thinking of you,” he replied, grimly. “In fact, when I saw you and Mrs. Sutgrove from my bedroom window at Calais this morn- ing, I determined to renew the old acquaintanceship at the earliest possible moment, and, I think for the first time, I did not regret that you had failed to follow my example and taken a header over the cliff, as I intended you should.” “So that really was your intention?” I asked. “Undoubtedly,” he answered, calmly. “I thought that once on the slope you would inevitably follow my example.” “The car did,” I said. “We fortunately left the car in time.” “By “we’ I presume you refer to that detective person who proved himself so blind to every scrap of evidence as to the personality of the Motor Pirate?” “Yes,” I answered. “Inspector "Forrest was my companion, and if it pleases you to know that I am alive, it should please you equally to learn, that he also is not only alive but as active as ever.” “Delighted to hear it,” replied Mannering, lightly. “I hope it will be my privilege to lead him another dance, and you — I am half-inclined to let you live and dance to the same tune.” The lightness of his tone made my blood run cold, but I ground my teeth and determined that, when the How the Dead Came to Life 27 opportunity arrived, I would make a fight for my life. At any rate, I was not going to let him see that I feared him, so I laughed, though even to my own ears there seemed to be a false ring about my merriment. “That is as may be,” I said. It had occurred to me that the longer I waited the better might become my chance of some one approaching near enough to lend me assistance, and I determined to gain time. “There is no doubt you will not live five seconds longer than I choose,” he remarked, and I saw a gleam of light flash from the barrel of the revolver he had drawn from his pocket. “Well,” I answered, with as steady a tone as I could manage, “if you are intending to carry out your threat, you may as well tell me how you managed to make your escape. I shall be compelled to haunt you unless you satisfy my curiosity on the subject.” “You take matters coolly,” he replied, “and as it is rather a long time since I have talked with an edu- cated Englishman, I don’t know that I will not oblige you.” He took a cigarette-case from his pocket with his left hand and held it out to me. As I helped myself to a cigarette, I watched him narrowly, but the finger of the right hand was on the trigger all the time. He helped himself, replaced the box in his pocket, and took a light from the match which I struck, without giving me half a chance to get on even terms with him. “There is no need to stand,” he continued. “You may as well be seated.” He pointed to the head of 28 The Cruise of the Conqueror a baulk of timber raised a couple of feet above the planking of the stage. “If you let your feet dangle over the edge, the water won’t reach you for another hour.” There was a tone of command in his voice, which, added to the persuasive effects of his levelled revolver, decided me to do as he suggested, though to seat myself on the very edge seemed like driving a nail into my own coffin. One shot and I should drop lifeless into the water, and—but I could not contemplate such an end. There was another alternative. If no other opportunity offered I might drop into the water and under cover of the darkness make good my escape. Such a scheme seemed feasible enough, so I settled myself with more calmness to listen to what my com- panion had to say. He lazily followed my example, seating himself on a similar baulk a yard away. “Mine really was a remarkable escape,” he began, “and, truth to tell, I was more surprised than ever you were. You have never taken a really big dive, I sup- pose, Sutgrove?” “Twenty feet is about my limit,” I answered. “When you are in the mood try one of two or three hundred feet,” he said. “I am sure you will not find a more thrilling sensation anywhere.” “So I should suppose,” I could not help remarking. “It is just as well to do it in a motor-car,” he con- tinued, “for you get a good send-off, and if the car only behaves properly and keeps the right side up, you get something to break your fall. At least that is How the Dead Came to Life 29 what I imagine must have happened to me, though I haven’t an absolutely clear recollection as to what actu- ally did occur. I suppose you did not see?” “No,” I replied. “When we saw you disappear, Forrest and I suddenly became aware of our own peril and jumped out of the car, and when we picked our- selves up and got to the edge of the cliff, there was nothing to be seen but a few odd bits of wreckage.” “I expect I was one of those bits of wreckage,” said Mannering. “I knew where I was running and put on full speed. You probably know how my car was built, on the Lanchester principle, with the engine under the body instead of under the bonnet, like the majority of cars.” “Yes,” I said. “I had an excellent opportunity of examining your car.” “I think I owe my life to that fact,” he continued. “The weight of the car was so evenly distributed that when she left Mother Earth for Father Ocean she fell horizontally. Even then I don’t see how it came about unless there was a slight rise at the edge of the cliff, but the fact remains that she struck the water at only a slight angle, breaking the impact for me and shooting me out to perform a header on my own account twenty or thirty yards away. When I came to the surface I floated about for a minute or two, for I felt a bit dazed, but the water soon put me right, and I swam in under the rocks and hauled myself to a place of safety out of sight of any one on top.” “You had the devil’s own luck,” I remarked. 30 The Cruise of the Conqueror “Just what I thought,” he replied. “It seemed so evident that I was not destined to be drowned that I determined there and then to devote myself to motor- boating.” In spite of the precarious tenure upon which I held my life I could not help being curious for further par- ticulars. “Even now I do not see how you managed to escape,” I said. “The rest was not so difficult,” he answered. “You probably imagined that my flight to the west was the mere purposeless whim of a madman, or else the de- spairing effort of a detected criminal.” I had thought so and I told him so, whereat he laughed sardonically. “Nothing of the kind,” he assured me. “You might have given me credit for ordinary common sense. My proceedings, if you have studied them carefully, would have shown themselves as all being part of an elaborately conceived plan. Why should you have im- agined me capable of working out such a scheme and yet omitting such an essential as provision of the means of escape?” I could answer him nothing. I realized with a shock how for seven years I had allowed myself to rest in easy security, while all the time the Pirate was alive and busy organizing new plans for preying upon his fellows. There was a note of sarcasm in Mannering's voice as he continued. “My only fear was that some mis- chance might have befallen the provision I had made How the Dead Came to Life 31 for my escape, for curiously enough I had never antici- pated being so pressed. It never occurred to me that any one would probe the secret of my car's construction so as to be able to pursue me in the manner you did. But I had not reckoned without reason on the wooden- headedness of Scotland Yard, and I found the pro- vision I had made ample for my purpose.” “And that was ?” I asked. “At ten o'clock that night a dinghy put into a little bay about five miles off in answer to a signal flashed from the cliff and took me off to a yacht. I went down into the cabin, dark-haired as you see me now, and next morning I made my appearance on deck with a nice bronze head of hair, moustache, and beard complete, and when a couple of days later I put into Falmouth I went ashore myself in order to buy the papers which gave an account of my destruction.” “It all sounds incredible,” I remarked. “Doesn’t it?” he said proudly. “In fact if I had not kept the newspapers I bought at the time I should be tempted to believe that I am the victim of an hal- lucination. But the fact remains that I am here and that you are here. The impossible has become the in- evitable, and I am very much afraid the inevitable for my own protection spells the end so far as you are con- cerned.” He pointed to the water, which had nearly reached my feet. “I cannot give you any longer than the time necessary to allow the water to reach to your feet. By stretching out your legs you can accept your 32 The Cruise of the Conqueror fate now, by lifting them you can postpone it for ten minutes or so.” I do not think I shuddered. At least I hope I did not, though I felt uncommonly cold about the region of the spine. But the feeling left me and was suc- ceeded by a warm thrill of anger that any one should so play with my natural desire for life. My nerves steadied at the thought and my muscles set themselves involuntarily as I measured with my eye the distance which separated us. He was too far off for me to be certain that I could reach him before he fired, so I said quietly, “Oh, I am in no particular hurry,” and, as I raised my feet slightly, “I think I shall have time for another cigarette.” I had thought to draw him within reach by offering him one from my case, and it was my intention to have seized him, and by a sud- den jerk to have dragged him with me into the water. But he was too wary, refusing my offer with a gesture and merely remarking, “Please yourself by all means.” I lit my cigarette and for a moment sat watching the water in silence. It seemed to fascinate me, it rose so rapidly. Already if I were to let my feet dangle loosely at the full length of my legs I knew that my time had come. Mannering broke the silence with “Any message for Evie, Sutgrove?” If anything had been wanting to pull me together it was the tone in which he asked this question. Its veiled malice set my blood boiling. Hitherto during this strange interview I had been thinking mainly How the Dead Came to Life 33 about myself, of the hardship of being cut off from those dear to me without one word of farewell, but now I realized that a worse thing might happen; that my wife would be left at the mercy of one whose au- dacity was only equalled by his resourcefulness, without knowledge of the danger which threatened her. “Curse you!” I said between my teeth. “Curse away,” he replied, airily. “What can your curses avail? To-morrow morning Mrs. Sutgrove will possibly awaken to the fact that she is a widow, and sometime or other, sooner rather than later, I shall find it my pleasant duty to console her.” I made a movement to rise and he levelled his pistol at my head. “The moment you move, I fire,” he said, and I saw that my opportunity had not yet arrived. “You surely do not think I have forgotten,” he con- tinued. “I am not the type of man who forgets easily. For the past few minutes you have been enduring a short taste of the hell into which you plunged me for months and years.” “And into which you will one day plunge for all eternity,” I interpolated. “The man who fears the future is a coward in the present,” he answered disdainfully. “But if there is any future existence, and that future existence in- cludes any knowledge of what is happening here, I think hell will be the only method of describing what you will be feeling.” “Indeed,” I said, “don’t make too sure.” The sound I had listened for so eagerly, the sound of approach- CHAPTER IV. OF THE LIVING WIBIO BECAME AS DEAD My thoughts as I performed my involuntary header into the sea were not precisely such as I should care to set down on paper. The consciousness of being plucked away from my enemy at the very moment when I held him practically at my mercy filled me with uncontrollable rage. For an hour he had been amusing himself at my expense, and then just as my opportunity had come, when my hand was at his throat —I do not fancy if left to myself that my grip would have relaxed until I had squeezed the life out of him —to be torn away and cast aside like an old glove was surely sufficient to make any man think thoughts he would not afterwards reproduce in print. But cold water has a remarkably sedative effect upon the emotions. When I came to the surface my mood had undergone a sudden change. I had time to realize that two armed men in a motor-boat were more than a match for a single man in the water, particu- larly when the latter was encumbered with his cloth- ing, and I resolved to allow my personal safety to take precedence of my desire for revenge. Fortunately Mannering and his companion had little leisure to de- 35 36 The Cruise of the Conqueror vote to me, for, as I had gone in all of a heap, I rose to the surface with salt water in my eyes and nose and mouth, and I spluttered round, gasping and coughing in a fashion which would have sufficiently betrayed my whereabouts. As it happened, however, they were bus- ily employed in securing their own safety, as I could plainly perceive directly I had got the salt out of my eyes, for on looking towards the pier I observed the Conqueror sheer off just as a number of men tumbled pell-mell down the steps on to the landing-stage. I was only ten or a dozen yards away, and I imme- diately struck out in their direction, with a vigorous shout to them to prevent the escape of the pirate boat. I only shouted once, for as I opened my mouth for a second warning a wave took me full in the face, and I perforce swallowed my own words together with a plentiful draught of sea water. Half a dozen strokes took me to the landing-stage, where I could see my arrival was expected, and the moment I raised my hand to clutch the edge one of the newcomers bent down to assist me. Even as he caught me by the wrist he remarked — the voice was well known to me: “We have managed to get one of them, anyway.” As I struggled on to the stage, in spite of my drip- ping condition, I could not forbear breaking into laughter at being mistaken for one of Mannering's crew. Clearly that was what I was adjudged to be, for no sooner was I erect on the landing-stage than a second man gripped me by the arm, while the first remarked pleasantly, “I am glad to see you in such The Living Who Became as Dead 37 good spirits, my friend. If there is one thing I hate it is a melancholy prisoner.” - “Why shouldn’t I laugh, Forrest?” I remarked quietly. The start the detective gave as I mentioned his name nearly tumbled me into the water again. Then he dragged me forward a few paces to a spot where the light from one of the lamps on the pier shone full on my face, and, dropping my arm, he rubbed his eyes with his hand, and said, “I’m d-d if it isn’t Sut- grove!” “Yes,” I said, “and if you knew who has just gone off in that motor-boat you would not have wasted a single second in capturing me, old fellow.” “It really is Sutgrove,” he repeated, as if the sight of my face had completely staggered him. The next moment he seemed to entirely recover the use of his faculties. “Come,” he remarked to his companions, “this is not one of the people we are after. We must stop that boat at all costs. You will excuse me, Sut- grove,” he continued, turning to me, “but I made sure you belonged to the craft which has just put off, and I badly want to get hold of some one belonging to her. I must get a tug to go after her at once.” “A tug!” I answered. “Listen!” Only a few seconds had elapsed since I had been pulled out of the water, but the Conqueror was out of sight and, as we hearkened, the faint purring of her screws grew gradually less and less until it sank into nothingness. 38 The Cruise of the Conqueror “A tug is no use,” I said to the inspector. “Let me tell you that there is no boat afloat which can catch the Conqueror on a sea like this. Forty knots an hour is the pace she was travelling to-day in the race, for I timed her myself, and the fastest destroyer in his Majesty's navy would chase her in vain.” Forrest stamped his foot in vexation. “It is most important,” he said shortly. “More important than even you think,” I replied. “Why, what do you know about her?” he asked. “You hardly expect me to tell you the story while I’m in this condition,” I answered, squeezing the water out of my coat tails; “but if you will come up to the Lord Warden, the moment I have changed I think I can give you some information which will open your eyes.” “Cannot you tell me now?” he persisted. I glanced at his companions. He was accompanied by a couple of constables in uniform and a couple of the pier officials. I hesitated. I was not quite certain that it would be desirable for the identity of the Pirate to be disclosed. It suddenly occurred to me that Man- nering might have channels through which information would reach him, and that, if so, it might be as well that he should think himself secure from identification as the Motor Pirate, whose exploits had once created a reign of terror on land. In order that this end might be secured it would be necessary that my escape should not be made known. I turned to Forrest. “Look here,” I said. “Can you trust me absolutely The Living Who Became as Dead 39 for a couple of hours? There is not time for a com- plete explanation, and I want you to adopt what may seem a curious course of action.” “What is it?” asked Forrest briefly. “Can you trust your people here to be silent?” I indicated his four companions. “You are all accustomed to keep a still tongue in your heads, my lads?” he said, and they answered with an assenting murmur. “Then,” said I, “the first thing I want you to do is to find me a place of concealment for twelve or twenty-four hours.” “What the devil ” began Forrest, and I could tell by his tone that he thought I had taken leave of my senses. “Stop a moment,” I interrupted. “I see I must give you at least one word of explanation. I know the owner of that boat which has disappeared, and he knows that I am aware of his identity — the fact is he tried to finish me in order that I might not be in a position to disclose it. Now if he can only be made to think that his attempt has succeeded, he may possi- bly be led to place himself in our power.” “Ha!” ejaculated Forrest, and I knew that he had grasped my meaning. “There is no time to lose,” I continued, “for if any one were to recognize me the game would be up at once. I must be hidden immediately. My idea is this. One of you saw me pass on to the landing-stage. You saw nothing of the motor-boat but heard a pistol-shot 40 The Cruise of the Conqueror and arrived to find the stage vacant. Any theory will do to explain my disappearance. An ill-balanced mind — motor mania — call it what you will, led me to commit suicide through losing the race to-day. Di- rectly I am hidden it will be just as well to raise an alarm, and you will search for me.” Forrest chuckled. “You ought to have been in the force, Sutgrove,” he remarked. Then he turned to one of the pier officials. “Where can we put him, Dowsell ?” The man thought for a moment before replying slowly, “There's the shed about ten yards down the pier where the paint pots are kept. It’s a bit close quarters, but I’ve got the keys with me.” “The very place,” replied Forrest. “Come along.” “One moment,” I answered. “You must go and explain the true state of affairs to my wife, Forrest.” The detective looked troubled. “I suppose she must know?” he asked. “Yes,” I said decidedly. Then I took him by the arm and led him aside so that his companions could not hear. “Tell her that it is a matter of life and death. Tell her that Mannering is alive.” Forrest staggered back a pace or two, and again I saw that he was doubtful as to whether I had not been bereft of my reason. “Impossible!” he said. “Im- possible! The shock has been too much for you. Your imagination xx “Feel my pulse,” I said to him grimly, “and tell me if you ever knew it beat more calmly. No, I am The Living Who Became as Dead 41 not suffering from any delusion. For an hour this evening I have talked with our old enemy upon this pier, watching every moment for an opportunity to spring at his throat. But there is no time now to tell you the whole story. Come to me the moment you can do so without fear of observation, and I will give you full details.” “But I saw him go over the cliff,” he objected. “If we delay any longer, some one is sure to pass by and recognize me, and it will be impossible to put into practice the plan I have in my mind,” I said. “It is amazing,” said Forrest simply as he stepped towards his assistants. “Hurry up, my lads. Let Mr. Sutgrove have your coat, Dowsell, so that if we meet any one on the pier he will not be recognized.” The man stripped off his coat, into which I strug- gled, and in a group we mounted the steps and hastened towards the little wooden hut only a few yards distant from the head of the stairs. Fortunately the harbour side of the pier was deserted, though there were a number of people gathered on the weather side, enjoy- ing the cool evening breeze, and we reached the hut without attracting attention. The door was speedily unlocked. I stepped into the darkness. The key was turned on me and I was alone, a voluntary prisoner. It was not exactly an enviable position, but I set to work to make the best of it by divesting myself of my clothes and wringing the water out of them as well as I could in the darkness. Luckily the weather was warm, and, indeed, I soon discovered that my quarters 42 The Cruise of the Conqueror were almost unpleasantly close, for being roofed with corrugated iron, upon which the sun had been blazing all day, the shed was like a drying chamber. But the events of the evening had made far too great an impression on me to allow of my bestowing much thought on my own comfort. Besides, I needed time to think out the details of the plan which had flashed across my mind. It was fortunate that my old companion in the pursuit of the Pirate had made his appearance so opportunely, and I wondered what had been the reason which had made him so anxious to detain the Conqueror, for he had obviously been un- aware of the identity of her owner. Had any one but Forrest appeared on the scene there would not have been the slightest chance of carrying into effect the plan I had in my mind, for I should have been com- pelled to explain my presence on the landing-stage, and the whole story would soon have been given to the world. As it was, if, as I suspected, Mannering was in a position to obtain information of what was going on in the world, I should be in a position to turn the tables on him by means of one of his own tricks. He had been dead for seven years while hatching another of his infernal schemes, and I was quite prepared to remain dead for seven months if I could thereby assist in any degree in laying him by the heels. And the plan in my mind would certainly seem to favour some such result, since one at least of the taunts he had directed at me had revealed an intention which might once more bring him within reach. “To-morrow The Living Who Became as Dead 43 morning,” he had said, “Mrs. Sutgrove will possibly awaken to the fact that she is a widow, and sometime or another, sooner rather than later, I shall find it my pleasant duty to console her.” The taunt had burned itself into my brain. It had been made when I was in his power and when he was satisfied of his ability to silence me for ever. Well, let him imagine that he had so silenced me, and then, when he made the attempt to carry his intention into effect he should find that I, too, could rise from the dead to protect my dear ones. Knowing only too well the remorseless and au- dacious character of the man, I was certain that he did contemplate some such attempt as he had fore- shadowed. I feared for Evie if she should fall into his hands, and I could watch over her safety quite as well if I were for the time, so to speak, non-existent. Maybe I was wrong in deciding to use my wife as it were as a lure for the bringing of Mannering to retribution. But I could think of no other scheme which promised half so well. There was no one in the whole world who knew him as I knew him, save per- haps Forrest and Evie herself. While he lived and was at large I knew that I should never have a mo- ment’s peace of mind, nor, indeed, would my wife. Better, then, any plan which offered the slightest chance of putting a period to his career than mere in- active flight. Such were the arguments by which I strove to justify my adoption of the device that had so suddenly occurred to me, and once having satisfied myself as to the desirability of the course of action I 44 The Cruise of the Conqueror had commenced, I settled down seriously to think out the details. While I pondered over these my attention could not fail of being distracted by the sound of passing foot- steps on the pier. At first in ones and twos, then in larger numbers, I heard the patter of feet and the mur- mur of voices as people hurried past my narrow prison. Now and again scraps of their conversation reaching my ears showed me that Forrest had spread abroad the story of my death. “Owner of the Mist, is it?”—“Poor fellow * — “Not much chance of picking him up until the tide turns,” were some of the sentences which reached me. A little later I heard footsteps approaching more slowly, and as they stopped outside the door of the shed I heard Forrest's voice remark, “If you will wait here, Mrs. Sutgrove, I will see that any information is brought to you immediately.” The key was inserted in the lock, the bolt shot back, and the next moment I saw my dear wife's face silhouetted in the doorway against the faint light outside. I heard her whisper, “Jim, Jim,” and the next moment my arms were round her. CHAPTER W. I LOSE MY IDENTITY WHEN Evie and I had — well — disentangled, I no- ticed that Forrest was not her only companion, and I was not best pleased when I recognized that she was accompanied by the daughter of the owner of the Chal- lenger. Not that I had any objection to the young lady personally, but merely that I thought it well that my plans should be in possession of as few people as possible. At any other time I should have been glad enough to welcome Edith Withington, if only for Evie's sake, for though they had only met for the first time on the occasion of the race for the International Cup, they were already sworn friends. I did not remark upon her presence, however, if only for the reason that it was not safe to indulge in conversation without risk- ing discovery. So for a couple of hours at least we stood in silence, Evie, Miss Withington, and Forrest at the door of the shed and I behind them in the black shadow, watching the boats which were skimming the harbour in their search for my body. A hundred questions were burning our tongues, but until the pier was clear none of us could satisfy our curiosity. A hundred times I cursed 45 46 The Cruise of the Conqueror the people whose morbid delight in the gruesome kept them from their beds to gaze persistently into the waves, long after the boatmen engaged in the search had given it up as hopeless. Meanwhile one more had been added to our party. I had observed Sanders hurrying along the pier, half of an unlighted cigar stuck in the corner of his mouth, and I had whispered to Evie to stop him. His atti- tude, when she did so, would have won my eternal regard, even had not many an action afterwards proved him to be one of the most faithful of comrades. Directly he caught sight of my wife he stopped, and with his face all puckered up with emotion he cried out as he grasped her little hands in his two oily palms, “My puir lady! God help ye an’ the sweet bairn.” His words were so unaffectedly honest, so evidently from his heart, that I felt ashamed of having evoked such an expression of feeling under false pretences, and with difficulty I restrained myself from springing for- ward and revealing myself forthwith. As for Evie she gave a little sob and could say nothing. It was Forrest who came to the rescue at this mo- ment of tension, for clapping Sanders on the back he remarked, “Mrs. Sutgrove has not quite lost hope yet, Mr. >> “Mr. Sanders is the engineer of the Mist,” said Evie in a voice which trembled between laughter and tears, “and was with him in the race to-day.” “Mr. Sanders will yet, I hope, accompany Mr. Sut- grove in a good many more races,” said Forrest quietly, I Lose My Identity 47 yet with a significance that made Sanders's lips screw up until the end of the cigar in his mouth brushed his eyelashes. “Who is this gentleman?” he demanded abruptly. “This is Inspector Forrest of Scotland Yard, a very old friend of my husband's,” answered Evie. “Humph! I’ve no great opeenion of Scotland Yard myself,” grunted the engineer. “Still,” remarked Forrest, “you must take my word that Mr. Sutgrove will need the assistance of the Mist and of the Mist's engineer within the next twelve hours or less.” “Eh!” ejaculated Sanders. “Eh! Then the puir body's not dead? What for is all this pother you are making?” The expression on his face as he looked from one to the other was comical in the extreme. “We are going to let you into a great secret,” said Forrest hurriedly, “but you must wait for details; all I can tell you now is that Mr. Sutgrove is alive and well — hush!” He stopped the exclamation which was on the tip of the engineer's tongue with his hand — “There are important reasons for nobody but ourselves knowing the fact. He is alive to a few of his friends, but dead to the world.” Deliberately Sanders removed the cigar from his mouth and looking at the end remarked, “Ma smoke is aye gone oot.” Then he tossed the stump into the sea with an expression of such unfeigned disgust that I could not resist a laugh, though I stifled it the next 48 The Cruise of the Conqueror moment. But the sound reached his ears, and brushing his way past my wife, he thrust his hand into the dark- ness which sheltered me while he whispered in a gruff voice, “Let’s feel the grip o' your fist, Mr. Sutgrove, for I no can credit the stories o' the weemen folk, nor the blether o’ the detectives.” My hand met his for a moment in a grip which made me wish he had been at my side when Mannering's companion had come to my enemy's assistance. Then he withdrew to the outer side of the shed and remained there talking in whispers with Forrest, until at last the pier was deserted by all but our own little group. Midnight had passed before this welcome opportunity arrived, and the moment the last of the stragglers dis- appeared from sight I turned eagerly to Forrest. “What in the world brought you down here in the very nick of time?” I asked. “Your story first,” he answered; and from past ex- perience I knew that I should not find my curiosity satisfied until he had been told all. So begging a cigarette from him — my own were soaked through with sea water—I narrated the events of the night, Forrest insisting upon being supplied with every de- tail. He was quick to grasp the reason of my action when I mentioned what Mannering had said in regard to Evie, and turning to my wife he remarked, “You must not be afraid, Mrs. Sutgrove; between us we can manage to protect you.” Evie's hand was resting in mine, and I am proud to think that not a single tremor gave evidence of any I Lose My Identity 49 anxiety. “I am seven years older than when I last met Mr. Mannering,” she answered, “and I have been getting stronger all the time. I am not afraid of him now.” Then Miss Withington spoke. She had been listen- ing intently during my recital, and now quite eagerly she remarked, “You must allow me to enlist my father in the ranks of your protectors, Evie.” Evie looked at me, and Forrest frowned. She continued still more eagerly, turning to me. “Don’t you see that Evie will have to play at being the desolate widow, overwhelmed with grief at this sad calamity; and it would be a tremendous strain upon her if she had to do so in private as well as in public. Now, if I am with her, I am sure I can help her to bear her grief, and >> “True,” remarked Forrest. “Mrs. Sutgrove has a difficult part to play.” That settled it. I thanked the bright American girl, and we began to discuss the details which I had already arranged in my mind. Evie was to remain at Dover for a couple of days with Mr. Withington and Edith, going on afterwards to Salcombe, where 1*was to join them, proceeding thither in the Mist. Sanders was to be my companion, and I was to be rigged out in a disguise with which Forrest would supply me. It was not until after two o'clock that I was once more left alone, to await impatiently the hour of de- parture, which Forrest advised should be at the earliest possible moment. I threw myself down on the floor 50 The Cruise of the Conqueror of the shed to try and obtain a few minutes' sleep, but I only tossed about restlessly, and I was thankful when the key once more grated in the lock and I heard For- rest remark briskly: “Now for your toilet, Sutgrove; there's not much time to spare if you want to get away unrecognized.” I blinked as I came out into the dim light of the early dawn, against which the lights on the pier al- ready showed a sickly yellow, and I must have shivered a little, for the detective remarked, “Salt water never gives any one cold, but all the same you will feel more comfortable in these.” He handed me as he spoke a change of thick woollen underclothing with a pair of rough serge trousers and jacket. “Grease 'em a bit when you get on board the Mist,” he advised. “It won't do for them to look as if they had just been reached down from the slop-shop shelf.” I was not long in making the change, and then Forrest once more proved to be a good Samaritan by producing a flask of brandy and handing it to me. I could have hugged him. It was an excellent spirit, and a couple of mouthfuls banished the last trace of the shivery feeling which hung about me. Then he produced a black wig and beard and some sticks of grease paint and set about destroying the last remain- der of my identity. “I shouldn’t trouble to wash,” he remarked, as he finished his rôle, and as I gathered up my discarded clothes he continued, “You had better sink those as soon as you are well away from Dover.” I followed him as he led the way to the landing- I Lose My Identity 51 | stage, and as we reached the head of the steps the sound of a screw reached my ear, and a moment later the Mist emerged from the inner harbour, where she had been berthed, with Sanders at the wheel. I had been so engrossed in the work in hand that until this moment I had forgotten that Forrest had failed to enlighten me as to the reason which had brought him to Dover in pursuit of the Conqueror, and now I asked him the question. “You will probably find much more in the papers to-day than I can tell you,” he replied. “I merely came down on an off chance. It so happened that yes- terday morning we received some information at the Yard concerning an act of piracy on the high seas. It seems an improbable story enough, a tale sent by wireless telegraphy of a Castle liner being stopped by a motor-boat. The chief thought the whole thing was a hoax. So, for the matter of that, did I,” he ad- mitted. “But there was a description of the boat given, and as it tallied to some extent with the descrip- tion printed in one of the evening papers of one of the starters in the Cross-Channel race, and as I knew you were down here, and I thought I would like a chat over old times, I decided to run down. I wish now I had used the telegraph,” he added regretfully, “but the whole thing seemed too absurd, and the re- sult is that d-d Pirate has wiped my eye again.” “What did he stop the Castle boat for — fun?” I asked. “If so, he has a very pretty sense of humour,” re- 52 The Cruise of the Conqueror plied Forrest, dryly, “for if my information is correct his fun has cost the shippers a quarter of a million in bullion, and as much again in rough diamonds.” “Impossible!” I said. “How could he manage it?” “That's exactly what we all said at the Yard,” re- plied Forrest; “and as to the means adopted I know no more than you do. But since I have learned that our old friend Mannering has had a finger in the pie I am no longer disposed to look upon the story as a hoax.” “No,” I answered. “Yet it seems absurd to suppose that a tiny motor-boat could hold up a liner.” “There will be plenty of details in this morning's papers,” said the detective. “The boat was due in Plymouth last night, and I’ll guarantee the newsboys will be shouting the story far and wide before many hours are gone by. Good-bye.” He held out his hand. We had been standing at the edge of the landing- stage, against which Sanders was steadying the Mist with a boat-hook. “I’ll be with you in Salcombe within three days in order to devise a plan of campaign. I would be there sooner, but I shall have much to do.” “You will look after Evie — Mrs. Sutgrove, while here?” I queried anxiously. “I have already telegraphed for Laver,” he answered, “ and I will see that he does not let her get out of his sight.” I shook his hand warmly. “We can trust to Laver,” I said. I Lose My Identity 53 “I shall tell him all we know,” said Forrest, “and if once Laver gets within striking distance of Manner- ing, I don’t think there will be much fight left in the Motor Pirate. He owes him a little account for that broken arm.” I laughed as I stepped into the boat. Forrest tossed my bundle in after me, and in a minute our screws were humming merrily as we made for the mouth of the harbour, and after clearing it bore away to the west. Gradually the town and the cliffs of Dover faded from our view. We did not hurry in our progress. The weather was fine and to all appearance settled, and I knew that our store of petrol was none too large. When, indeed, I came to examine it, I found that we were shorter even than I had anticipated, and it was only by practising the utmost economy that we man- aged to make Portsmouth, where I knew that I should be able to replenish my stock. As it was we did not get there until the afternoon, and by that time both Sanders and I were keener on filling our own feed- tanks than those of the Mist, so that when we had sat- isfied our hunger and had got the petrol aboard the sun was near setting. Then, bethinking myself of the newspapers, I made my way to the railway station and purchased as many different editions as I could obtain, and after a mere glance at one of them I returned to the harbour, where Sanders awaited me. There, to my annoyance, I saw that the Mist was exciting a good deal of attention, a considerable crowd having gathered 54 The Cruise of the Conqueror to stare at her. So we once more embarked and ran her over to Ryde, where I thought we should be less likely to attract notice. My anticipations proved cor- rect. We berthed the Mist and reached our hotel with- out exciting any particular signs of public interest, and there, as I seated myself in an unoccupied smoking- room, I felt suddenly so weary that I knew the papers would have to contain some particularly interesting news if they were to keep me awake. They did. Once again the whole of the press of the United Kingdom had devoted itself to detailing the exploits of a Motor Pirate. Yet, as I was glad to see, nowhere was there any identification of him with his predecessor, though, of course, there were fre- quent references to him, and in the later editions a good deal of prominence was given to the fact of my disappearance and presumed suicide after being beaten by the Conqueror. But here, perhaps, it would be better to give the story of Mannering's first piratical exploit on the high seas. CHAPTER VI. IN WEIICH THE PIRATE HOLDS UP THE DUNSTER CASTLE THERE was so much of surmise, however, mixed up with the solid ounce of facts in the newspaper accounts of the holding up of the Dunster Castle, that I have thought it best to compile a version of the story for myself, instead of depending upon the report of any one paper in particular. Later on, of course, very full accounts of this extraordinary act of piracy appeared in all directions, and everybody on board had an oppor- tunity of airing their experiences at considerable length. But the majority of these were not of abiding interest, and I have left them enshrined in the columns where they first appeared. It seemed that the first intimation to the captain of the liner that an attempt to relieve him of his valuable cargo was afoot, had been on his arrival at Funchal in order to pick up some passengers and mails. Up to that time the Dunster Castle, the latest mail-ship of the/ Union-Castle line, a magnificent vessel of 14,000 tons, had made a speedy passage. She carried a full com- plement of passengers, for business was brisk at the Cape, and a large number of people were passing to 55 56 The Cruise of the Conqueror and fro. There was not the slightest reason for appre- hending that anything would be likely to occur to mar a pleasant voyage. But, amongst the letters awaiting the arrival of the Dunster Castle, was one addressed to the captain, of such an extraordinary nature that the worthy gentle- man could only conceive it to be the work of a practical joker or a madman. Indeed, who in this twentieth century, being the recipient of the following epistle, would be disposed to pay the slightest attention to it? The letter was undated and read as follows: — “The commander of the motor-boat, the Conqueror, presents his compliments to the captain of the Dunster Castle, and begs to inform him that he proposes to speak him when the Dunster Castle arrives at or about lat. 43° N. The commander of the Conqueror further desires to explain that his object in doing so is as follows: He has found himself lately to be somewhat straitened in his means, and, understanding that the captain of the Dunster Castle has a large amount of bullion and diamonds on board, he is desirous of re- lieving him of any further responsibility in connection with that portion of his cargo. With this object he would suggest that the captain of the Dunster Castle should make arrangements for transferring the said valuables to the Conqueror. Any delay and any in- convenience to the passengers of the Dunster Castle would be obviated by the packing of the gold and stones in the ship's boats, which could be conveniently cast adrift when the Conqueror is sighted, though without Holds Up the Dunster Castle 57 any crew on board, as the Conqueror has no accom- modation for prisoners. The commander of the Con- queror would further like to add that, having in his possession full particulars of the valuables aboard the Dunster Castle, he must beg that particular attention shall be paid to his desire that the whole of the treas- ure shall be dealt with as he has directed, and he thinks that perhaps it will be as well for him to mention the fact that he would not have proffered the request, un- less he had the means at his command to ensure that it would be complied with.” When the captain of the Dunster Castle read this remarkable missive he indulged in a hearty laugh, and looked upon it as a valuable asset for dinner-table con- versation. Nor was he disappointed. The letter pro- duced considerable merriment. The idea of a Castle liner being held up and robbed by a motor-boat seemed the merest nonsense to everybody. Nevertheless, when some forty hours after leaving Madeira the Dunster Castle approached the forty-third parallel, the passen- gers were quite curious enough to turn out on deck in a body to see whether the commander of the Con- queror intended to keep his promise, though the general opinion of the likelihood of anything of the sort hap- pening may be gauged from the fact that, amongst the sporting section of the passengers, bets of twenty to one were freely offered against the motor-boat mak- ing her appearance, without the odds finding a single taker. It was somewhat of a shock to the general impres- 58 The Cruise of the Conqueror sion, therefore, when just after three o'clock in the afternoon a cry of “boat ahead” came from the lips of the man on the lookout. The day was bright but not very clear, and the first glimpse of her was due to the reflection of a sun-ray from her golden prow as she was lifted on the crest of a wave, when not more than a mile ahead, right in the steamer's track. A mile is not much to a liner going at full speed, and the pas- sengers were soon able to obtain a full view of the stranger, which appeared to be quietly awaiting the approach of the steamship. “One of the new-fangled stink-pots wanting to show off,” remarked the captain, with the contempt natural to the commander of a royal mail-boat for the skipper of a toy pleasure craft. “You have not loaded up the bullion, then?” sang out a cheery voice, and the captain smiled knowingly as he replied, “Judging from the look of her, she has just about as much gold about her already as she can conveniently carry.” The captain joined his first officer on the bridge, and when the Dunster Castle had drawn near enough to the Conqueror to see that the latter was manned by only two men, a roar of laughter broke out at the idea of the big ship being plundered by so sparsely manned and fragile a craft. But before it had died away the first officer, who had been scanning the bóat closely through his glass, turned to the captain. “What's that he has mounted aft, sir? I can’t quite make out whether it is a gun or a torpedo tube.” Holds Up the Dunster Castle 59 “What?” said the captain, sharply, as he took the glass from his subordinate. He looked long and care- fully at the Conqueror, and when he dropped the glass his face wore a puzzled expression. “I don’t know what to think,” he answered. “Supposing that note you received was not intended for a practical joke,” continued the first officer. The captain made no reply. “If the beggar should happen to have a torpedo aboard,” he added. “Damnation l’” said the captain. “What a croaker you are. He would never dare —” but he was ob- viously uneasy. Nearer and nearer drew the liner, until it seemed as if the tiny boat was inviting the big ship to run her down. “If he does not move soon,” said the captain, “his fate will be his own seeking. After that note, I will not alter my course by half a point.” Even as he spoke the Conqueror shot out of the way, and the liner swept past. The captain laughed. “He’s like a small boy playing last across the road in front of a motor-car,” he remarked. “He will play that game once too often one of these days.” The Conqueror had sheered off to half a cable's length, and then the whole of those aboard the liner had an ocular demonstration of her wonderful speed, for, going about almost within her own length, she circled twice round the Dunster Castle, like a swordfish round a whale. It must have been a very pretty ex- 60 The Cruise of the Conqueror hibition of the motor-boat's capabilities, and I can quite understand the unanimous chorus of astonish- ment and admiration which arose from the passengers who watched the manoeuvre. “She has the heels of us, anyway,” commented the mate. “And now he is going to brag of it,” remarked the captain as the Conqueror, apparently satisfied with the demonstration of her abilities, drew up alongside until a biscuit might have been thrown aboard, and one of the two men on the motor-boat, placing his hands trumpet fashion to his mouth, shouted, “Dunster Cas- tle ahoy.” The captain walked leisurely to the port side of the bridge before replying with the query, “What boat is that?” Clear to every ear on deck came the answer, “The Conqueror. Did you get my letter, captain?” “I have received a letter from some idiot, which I shall now consider it to be my duty to lay before the Board of Trade,” replied the captain sourly, for he had been piqued by the manner in which the motor-boat had played round his ship, and the audible admiration of the passengers. “Please yourself as to that, by all means,” replied the commander of the Conqueror. “Though whether you have an opportunity of making such a report de- pends very much upon what efforts you make to carry out my instructions.” “Your instructions be d–d,” roared out the cap- Holds Up the Dunster Castle 61 tain. “Do you imagine that I have taken leave of my senses?” “I hope not,” came the cool answer. “I am rather of opinion that the exercise of your intelligence will lead you to consider that the safety of your ship and passengers is of more importance than the retention on board of a certain amount of filthy lucre.” The captain regained his self-control and spoke ban- teringly. “A very pretty theory, Mr. Conqueror, but I have no intention of jeopardizing the one or parting with the other. I’m too old a bird to be caught by that sort of chaff.” There was a moment's pause, and then the voice of the stranger was raised menacingly. “I must request you to at once heave to, sir, or I shall be under the painful necessity of making you.” The captain laughed again, and remarking, “It won’t do, you can’t bamboozle me,” turned on his heel and walked to the centre of the bridge as if he had dismissed the matter from his mind. “It really was a very pretty attempt at bluff,” he remarked to his first officer. And, indeed, it seemed as if his estimate of the situation had been the correct one, for the Conqueror altered her course and stood away until she had put a cable's length between herself and the Dunster Castle. How mistaken was this view was speedily demonstrated. The passengers who were watching, saw the second occupant of the little craft go aft and remove a tarpaulin from an object which revealed itself to be a gun. They saw the boat swing 62 The Cruise of the Conqueror round, they observed the gunner train his weapon care- fully. There was a slight report, a momentary whis- tling in the air followed by a louder report, and a jar which made the whole ship quiver. Then the next moment there arose from the engine-room the cries of men and the clangour of steel rods beating on broken metal. Until the very moment of the second report there had not been a single person aboard the Dunster Castle who had not considered the matter in the light of a joke which some mad-brained individual was attempt- ing to play at the expense of the captain. The idea of so tiny a craft being able to inflict any real damage appeared preposterous. Even the training of the gun upon the ship only seemed a part of the comedy being enacted for their amusement, for the gun appeared to be little, if any, bigger than the Dunster Castle's signal gun. But at the sound of the result of the shot there was a complete change. The passengers' faces must have proved a ludicrous sight as fear followed close upon and chased away their laughter. In a moment consternation reigned in the place of security. As if fascinated, every eye was turned on the tiny craft, which once more fell away from its course while the gunner trained his weapon and discharged a second projectile at the huge mark offered by the helpless liner, like the first to crash through her unarmoured side and take effect in her very vitals. This time the effect was still more disastrous than on the first occasion. The whole ship shuddered, the Holds Up the Dunster Castle 63 screw ceased to revolve, and, while the ship fell sharply away from her course, the clang of metal and the hiss of escaping steam from below told of serious damage. There seemed to be no doubt now as to the Pirate’s intention, and as the knowledge came home to the minds of those aboard, small wonder was it that con- fusion, almost panic, seized hold of the passengers who a few moments before had been laughing so gaily. But this was only momentary. With a few brief words the boats’ crews had been ordered to their stations and preparations were being made for leaving the ship. While these arrangements were in progress the pirate boat had once more ranged alongside to port, and as her commander again hailed the Dunster Castle every ear was strained, far more anxiously than on the first occa- sion, to hear what passed. Something very like a universal shudder shook the frames of the majority of the passengers as they heard Mannering — the commander of the Conqueror could have been none other than he – ask coolly, “Well, captain, have you decided which it is to be? Do you choose to accept my instructions, or must I sink your ship for you?” The captain groaned. “If only we had one three- pound quick-firer,” he muttered to the mate. “We haven’t,” answered the first officer shortly. “I cannot give you above another minute to decide,” shouted Mannering peremptorily. “You are fully aware of all the consequences of your action, sir?” demanded the captain. 64 The Cruise of the Conqueror The Pirate laughed. “Absolutely,” he answered. “So fully aware of them that I swear to you, that if the treasure you carry is not put aboard the boats within the next half-hour, I will sink the Dunster Castle and make an end of every man, woman, and child aboard her.” I do not think that I should have liked to have been placed in the position to make the choice which at this moment confronted the captain of the Dunster Castle. There can be no doubt in which direction his own inclination would have led him. Better far in his view would it have been to defy the Pirate and go down with his ship, true to the instincts of his nation and his profession. But he was not in a position to follow his own inclination. There were first of all the passengers to be considered; and however hard it was to surrender to his tiny adversary and hand over to him the treasure entrusted to his charge, their safety was of necessity his first consideration. He made a gesture of acceptance; and then followed an example of Mannering's audacity of which I should never have deemed him capable, accustomed as I had been in the past to his cool daring. “Let down your ladder,” he shouted, “I am coming aboard.” CHAPTER VII. conceRNING THE FRUITs of A PIRATE's PHILosophy I MUST confess that I should have liked to have been present on the deck of the Dunster Castle when Man- nering stepped aboard. By all accounts he was as cool and collected, possibly more so, than the majority of those who had the opportunity of looking upon his face, and it was said that he bore himself as easily as if he had been a welcome visitor. Indeed, as he passed a group of lady passengers on his way to the bridge where the captain awaited him, he raised his cap and paused to apologize for the fright he had been com- pelled to give them. “You have seen,” he remarked, “one of the conse- quences of despising your adversary. Merely because I was the commander of an eighty-foot motor-boat your worthy captain thought he could safely disregard the request which I had made of him in the most courteous terms, with the result that I am afraid I must have given you all a most unpleasant shock. Nothing, I can assure you, was further from my de- sire.” Then, bowing again, he passed on. And here let me describe him at this moment of his Career. 65 Fruits of a Pirate's Philosophy 67 revenge, and I know enough of him to rest assured that he would fulfil my wishes.” “All the same, I don’t see how that would benefit you,” remarked the captain of the liner. “I quite agree with you,” replied Mannering non- chalantly, as he produced a cigarette-case from his pocket, and striking a match on his boot inhaled a whiff of the tobacco before continuing. “Neither would you benefit to any appreciable degree. You see, you are not aware of the circumstances which have compelled me to this course of procedure or you would be also aware that, as for all practical purposes in modern life I am already non-existent, it matters very little to me at what moment I become so in reality. That's where I have the advantage of you in an ar- gument of this sort. You set some value upon the trivial existence you term life. I set none.” Whether the captain of the Dunster Castle had enter- tained any hope of securing the person of his con- queror I do not know, but if he had I fancy Manner- ing's demeanour must have made him feel the futility of making any such attempt at the moment, for he growled out with an oath, “An argument like that gun of yours has a great deal more effect upon me than any other you could bring forward.” Mannering laughed pleasantly. “A very effective little toy, isn’t it?” he asked. “I’m very proud of it, especially as the whole of the mechanism, together with the explosive I use in the shell, are of my own invention. Of course,” he corrected, “I don’t mean 68 The Cruise of the Conqueror to assert that I am the first man to make use of a pneumatic gun, but merely to say that this one has points of my own devising in its construction which render it particularly useful for its present purpose.” The captain could only stare at his visitor. He had nothing to say, and it was left for Mannering to resume the conversation. “I did not come aboard, however,” he remarked after a few more puffs at his cigarette, “to discuss modern gunnery, but merely to see that my instructions in regard to the transshipment of your freight are car- ried out in accordance with my desires. If you will give your orders, captain, I will check the packages as they are placed aboard the boats.” The captain looked north, south, east, and west, but he saw nothing which gave him any hope of relief, and with stiffly compressed lips he issued the most distaste- ful orders which perhaps it had ever fallen to his lot to give during the whole of his existence. While he was doing so there occurred one of those ludicrous interludes without which no tragedy is ever quite complete. Amongst the saloon passengers were a number of South African magnates, one of them being the managing director of the mining company which had shipped the parcel of diamonds that Man- nering had demanded. No sooner had the purser, in pursuance of the captain's instructions, brought the packet from below than this individual made a fran- tic rush for the bridge. He had borne the shock of the attack upon the steamship without turning a hair, but Fruits of a Pirate's Philosophy 69 the sight of his property passing from his possession proved too much for him. He was a short, fat, sleek little gentleman of typi- cally Semitic appearance, and he scrambled up beside the captain and with fierce gesticulation made his pro- test against being plundered. “It’s sheer robbery,” he shrieked, his voice rising to a high falsetto, “barefaced robbery of 'elpless, 'arm- less widows and orphans, who have done nothin’ to deserve it.” I can fancy Mannering's smile as he heard the out- burst and replied, “Are you one of the said orphans, for, if so, you look prosperous enough to be able to bear the loss?” “Prosperous?” wailed the little Hebrew. “Pros- perous? What shall I be worth when you have robbed me of my property? There's all the washings of the past six months there in your hand, and you are going to rob me of the whole of it. Fifty thousand pounds I’ve put in the company, and I shall be ruined, ab — so — lute—ly ruined.” “Surely you will not suffer,” said Mannering. “The loss will fall on the underwriters.” “You don’t understand,” wailed the unhappy man. “I — I was bringing them over myself, and I — didn’t insure them.” “I suppose in point of fact you thought the risk was so small that you might as well pocket the insur- ance yourself?” The abject misery in the diamond merchant's face 70 The Cruise of the Conqueror showed that the Pirate had guessed the true state of affairs, though the little man only reiterated his moan that he would be ruined. “Oh, don’t say that,” replied Mannering. “There must be plenty more where these came from. All you have to do is to spend another six months in further washing. You must look upon this as a mere tem- porary inconvenience.” The managing director changed his tone to one of appeal. “I haven’t done nothin’ to you,” he pleaded. “Why should you want to ruin me? There's plenty of people in the world richer than I am, who I’m sure wouldn’t mind being robbed. Now look here, Mr. Conqueror, supposin’ we could come to some arrangement about this little affair. Rough diamonds aren’t no sort of use to a gentleman in your position. You’ll never be able to put them on the market, and if I was to make it a matter of business ” He looked eagerly at Mannering's face to see what sort of effect he was pro- ducing, and he must have been satisfied with what he saw there, for he sidled up closely to him and laid his hand on the Pirate's arm. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” he said in a confidential tone. “Supposin’ I give you a bill at three months for a thousand pounds.” Mannering laughed aloud. “I’ll make it two thousand! Three thousand! Twenty thousand!” “And what chance would there be of the bill being met?” asked Mannering. Fruits of a Pirate's Philosophy 71 “I give you my oath,” replied the Jew eagerly. “I much prefer the stones,” said Mannering. The unhappy little man became almost inarticulate in his desire to save the treasure. He turned to the captain of the Dunster Castle. “I shall hold you responsible, captain. You have given away my prop- erty and the property of my shareholders to a man who is in your power, and your company will have to make my loss good. I tell you, you will all have to suffer for it.” Then he turned again on Mannering, “You — you—you infernal thief! You — you — you —” He could no longer find a word to express his rage, and he literally foamed at the mouth. Mannering turned on his heel and quietly remarked to the captain of the liner, “Now, if you please, we will see that the gold is properly packed aboard.” But the little Jew could no longer restrain his despair and he made a spring at the Pirate's throat. It was an absurd act on his part, and the captain of the Dunster Castle at once stepped forward to prevent any injury being done to the man on whose life the safety of the ship and the lives of the passengers de- pended. But there was no need for his intervention. Even as he sprang, Mannering had caught his assailant in the grip which I had myself experienced, and, lift- ing him from his feet, hurled him from the bridge upon the deckhouse below, where he lay a helpless Inass. A flash of ferocity passed over Mannering's face, but the next moment it disappeared, and it was with 72 The Cruise of the Conqueror a smile he turned to the captain and remarked, “If I was in command of the Dunster Castle I should stick to the general rule of refusing to allow passengers on the bridge.” “Since you came aboard, sir,” said the captain, “I have ceased to command this ship.” “Then I must apologize for having caused you this annoyance,” answered Mannering sarcastically, and, dismissing the subject, continued, “I suppose I may ask you to give me your company while I check the cargo. I see your men are already putting the gold on board the boats.” Without a word the captain followed him down the ladder to the deck, where men were busily engaged in the work of removal. If looks could have killed, Mannering would not have had a long shrift, but, taking no notice of his surroundings, the Pirate remained until the cargo in the boats had been arranged to his satisfaction. The first boat was lowered safely, and, once more saluting the captain, Mannering took his place in the second and gave the signal to lower away with a smile of satisfaction on his face. The sea was calm and the boat took the water with hardly a splash, in spite of its being so deeply laden. Then, in response to a wave of the hand, the Conqueror ran up, and Manner- ing, after fixing the tow-lines with his own hands, took his place in his own craft. Finally, once more doffing his cap to the passengers who lined the bulwarks of the Dunster Castle, he swept Fruits of a Pirate's Philosophy 73 away from the helpless ship, steering a course east by south, almost direct for the Spanish coast. With the departure of the Pirate there remains little further of interest to relate regarding the ex- periences of the Dunster Castle. For twenty-four hours she wallowed helplessly on the sea, until, by the exertions of the engineers, her engines were patched up sufficiently to enable her to resume her voyage, and, ultimately, she made her way into Plymouth, after a number of minor breakdowns, a couple of days later than she should have arrived at Southampton. Such was the story of Mannering's first piratical exploit, and it was quite evident that alone it would have been sufficient to awaken wide-spread excitement. But, coming as it did just after the announcement of his winning of the Cross-Channel race, the man's au- dacity appeared all the more noteworthy, and pro- duced a much greater effect than it would otherwise have done. There was no lack of identification. Both at Calais and Dover a number of people who had seen the owner of the motor-boat were able to give a suf- ficient description of him to make it certain that he was one with the man who had taken half a million in gold and stones from the hold of the Dunster Castle. There could be no mistaking the boat either, as in each case the description tallied exactly. Under all these circumstances I am afraid that very little notice would have been taken of my own dis- appearance but for the fact that it was presumably owing to my defeat by the Conqueror. As it was, I 74 The Cruise of the Conqueror found that a liberal portion of the space in the news- papers was devoted to the subject, especially in the evening papers, and I eventually retired to my room in considerable trepidation lest my existence should be discovered. Still, my apprehensions on this score did not disturb my sleep. In fact, I slept until ten o’clock the next morning, and I doubt whether I should have awakened then had not Sanders come to my room and pulled me out of bed. Then as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes he re- marked, “Come, man,” — I had forbidden him to make the slightest reference to me by name, — “if ye’ll be no makin’ for to start soon, we’ll never be gettin’ away. The whole o’ the population of the Island is down on the quay starin’ at the Mist, an’ there's twa deevils of interviewers about.” The only protection I could think of was flight. So with a big tip to the waiter to ensure that we should not be molested, we got our breakfast and, making our way down to the harbour, managed to get aboard the Mist before any of the dreaded pressmen put in an appearance, and it was with a light heart that I slipped out of the harbour and steered down the Solent. º CHAPTER VIII. TELLING OF ANOTHER MEETING OF THE MIST WITH THE PIRATE THE sky was clear and the sea calm when we left Ryde, but we had not been afloat for more than an hour before signs of a change in the weather made their appearance. Out of the southwest there arose one or two swift-scudding dark clouds which were absorbed before they reached the zenith. But these were merely the advance couriers of others. Soon the sky was flecked with clouds which gathered so quickly, coming up from every quarter, that one needed not to be weather-wise to predict a thunder-storm. Yet as the sea remained calm save for an occasional puff of wind which did little more than ruffle the surface of the water the prospect did not worry me. I reckoned that as it was working up from the southwest, and that as we were running right into it, half an hour would see the Mist through. So I kept steadily to my course with the engines running at half their maximum power, since I had no desire to make Salcombe Harbour until after dusk, when my arrival would not be observed. If I had happened to have had a barometer on 75 76 The Cruise of the Conqueror board I doubt that I should have so underestimated the potentialities of the storm into the heart of which we were flying. Anyhow in another half-hour I was bitterly regretting that I had not run before it for the nearest harbour. Even before the storm broke I began to realize that it was likely to be more than a mere thunder-storm, for though the surface of the sea was smooth, as we progressed we met a long, even swell which told as clearly as the barometer would have done that there was wind behind it. That was not our first trouble. When, as near as I can judge, we were just about due south of Portland Bill — I had no means of taking our reckoning and could merely guess at our position through having shortly before sighted one of the Jersey boats on its way to Weymouth — the storm broke with a fierce intensity, which, so far as the lightning was concerned, I was pretty well prepared for. But I was not anticipating the accompanying downpour of rain to be of quite so torrential a charac- ter as it proved to be. After about ten minutes of the electrical discharges the rain began to fall in big drops, which in a few minutes resolved themselves into veri- table sheets. It formed so thick a curtain that I could not see a yard ahead. Fog is troublesome enough, but a downpour such as this was ten times worse than any fog. If anything had happened to be in our way we should have gone plump into it and to the bottom without the slightest chance of avoiding the peril. Nor was this our only danger. The water poured into the cockpit so rapidly that before we realized it the floor Another Meeting with the Pirate 77 was awash and I began to fear lest it would get to the motor. Leaving Sanders to set the pump to work, I turned my attention to making things snug by covering in so much of the open space as I could. Fortunately I was provided with the means. When I had built the Mist I had anticipated her occasional exposure to sea, and instead of the usual spray hood I had designed a false deck which would serve to prevent waves break- ing aboard and swamping her. Consisting of a double thickness of balloon silk well-rubbered and stretched on stays of bamboo, this contrivance was so light that it made no appreciable difference to our weight, besides being compressible into a comparatively small space. This was the first occasion, however, in which I had found any use for it, and very handy it proved to be, for without it our little pump would never have man- aged to cope with the flood of water which poured in on us from the sky. But once fitted into position the covering formed a fairly complete protection, and any danger of being swamped was speedily averted. For twenty minutes the flood continued to descend, then it gradually became less, and I could once more see ahead. But now we were to encounter a fresh peril. It seemed as if the thunder-storm had set loose all the forces of nature, for the moment the rain ceased the wind broke loose, and down from the southeast by east there came a squall which, taking the Mist on the port quarter, swung her round until she lay broadside on to it, and held there as immovably as if she were an- 78 The Cruise of the Conqueror chored. I do not suppose that the squall lasted for more than half a minute, but I do know that every second of the time I expected the boat to turn turtle. Lucky it was for us that I had stretched the covering over her previously, for otherwise she would have been swamped to a certainty, and any further chances I might have had of coming to a final understanding with the Motor Pirate would have been finally dissi- pated. But the squall passed, and the Mist righting her- self, I once more put her on her course, and set her going this time at full speed, for, I confess, I had for one day had enough of the sea in so frail a craft. Now, however, with the passing of the squall there came a gusty breeze from the southwest, which seemed every moment to develop in force, and with it the sea began to rise in a very nasty fashion. “What do you think of it, Sanders?” I asked, turn- ing to my companion. The engineer was not a man to waste many words, and hitherto, during the progress of the storm, he had hardly said a word. Even now he only remarked, drily, “I’ve seen waur weather in my time, Mr. Sutgrove, an’, doubtless, I shall live to see waur again.” This was comforting, no doubt, but all the same I did not feel too happy at the prospect. Here we were, well out in the Channel, sixty or seventy miles from the point we wished to make, with a head wind and a rising sea to face in a fragile racing-boat. Soon, the sea became too high to permit of our carrying on Another Meeting with the Pirate 79 at full speed, for the Mist, instead of rising to the waves, driven by her powerful screws, hurled herself at them, and to me it seemed sometimes that we tore our way through them more after the fashion of a sub- marine than anything else. Reluctantly I lowered our speed to half the maximum, but I found even that eventually too great, for she still tried to cut through instead of to top the waves. As I strove to steer, the sheets of spray which took me full in the face every few minutes, and were only prevented from blinding me by the mask I wore, found their way into the boat through the narrow openings which remained uncov- ered, and we had to keep the pump going continuously in order to free the Mist of the water we shipped. So eventually I dropped to about six or seven knots, and found, although occasionally we got the crest of a wave aboard, that on the whole we progressed fairly com- fortably. In fact, I was agreeably surprised to find how buoyant the Mist proved to be, and though at times she reared herself almost perpendicularly, until it seemed that she must inevitably turn over, yet she always survived, and I began to feel a wild exhilaration at the battle with the elements. Of course, I had no time to do anything but pay attention to the steering of the boat. To have let her fall away a couple of points would have inevitably meant destruction, and though now and again as we topped a wave I caught sight of larger craft, none of them came near enough for us to attract their atten- tion. Slowly the afternoon passed until the sun ap- Another Meeting with the Pirate 81 if you will let me take the wheel for a minute or two while you look in the direction I say, you will dream that identical dream yourself.” “Catch hold,” I cried to him, and the minute he had taken my place I stood erect, and removing my mask looked eagerly in the direction indicated. The Mist was sliding down into the trough of the sea at the moment, and not until she had mounted the crest of the next wave was there a chance of seeing any- thing. Then I saw that Sanders had not been dream- ing, for I beheld the Conqueror make her appearance. She had crested a wave at the same moment as the Mist, and though her burnished golden plates were clearly visible to us, I doubted whether he had made us out in the smother of foam. Once again we glided into a valley amongst the waves, and I waited im- patiently until we had surmounted the oncoming hill for another glimpse of my enemy. But when the Mist once more rose to the crest there was nothing of the Conqueror to be seen, and when, after three times rising up, I had not caught a single glimpse of her, I began to think that Mannering might at last have met the fate he so richly deserved. But I was soon to be disillusioned. When for the fourth time we mounted a big wave the first object that met my eyes was the Conqueror, not a cable's length astern. She was evidently making much better weather of it than the Mist was, and I now saw that Mannering had made preparations for meeting bad weather much superior to mine. I had noticed when at Calais' and Another Meeting with the Pirate 83 I could see that his mouth curved in a smile. A mo- ment later he shouted, mockingly, “Sorry to have splashed you, Mist, though so far as I can see you couldn’t get much wetter.” “No thanks to you, you yellow-gilled Spaniard,” said Sanders, earnestly. “Why don’t you look where you’re going? You don’t want to sink us, do you?” This time Mannering laughed aloud. He had slack- ened his pace and pitched side by side with the Mist, bow on to the waves. I sat facing him, and so far as I could tell he had not the faintest suspicion of my identity. “It doesn’t matter much to me whether you sink or swim as you don’t appear to have your skipper aboard,” he remarked. “Thank you,” bawled Sanders. “If ever there was a good, kind-hearted gentleman, with a first-class cabin reserved for him for his vºyage across the crystal seas, you’re that same gentleman.” “That's all right,” replied Mannering, pleasantly, “and as you think so highly of me, perhaps you will not mind telling me where Mr. Sutgrove is at the pres- ent moment.” “What's the use of speering silly questions like that?” roared out the engineer in an assumed rage. “How should I ken where a dead man is gone?” “Dead?” said Mannering. “Dead, did you say, or did the wind alter the words?” “D'ye think I should say dead if I meant he was alive?” retorted Sanders. “What d'ye think I should 84 The Cruise of the Conqueror be doin’ out here if Mr. Sutgrove was in the land of the livin’? What for is Mrs. Sutgrove a-greetin’ at Dover if she hasna' cause? Pooh, man, you are no so cleever as ye think.” “You surprise me,” replied Mannering, but he said no more, and the next moment he sped away and left us. “Well,” asked the engineer of me as he resumed the wheel, “did I answer his questions to your satis- faction?” “Admirably,” I replied, and, indeed, I thought that Sanders's answers could not have been improved upon, for they had been given with exactly the amount of indignant warmth which the occasion required, and without the slightest recognition that the Conqueror was anything else than the Mist's successful adversary in the Cross-Channel race. We sighted the Conqueror once or twice again dur- ing the next few minutes, but the gathering dusk soon hid her, and from the course she was steering we judged that she was running for the Channel Islands. Meanwhile, the wind gave no prospect of dropping, and I began to look anxiously for the light which should show that we were within sight of home, even though I knew that perhaps more dangerous than any of our experiences hitherto would be the attempt to make Salcombe Harbour in such a gale as was now blowing. So we toiled on, until about eleven o’clock I recognized the flash of the Start light and knew that we were at last within measurable distance of home. : : CHAPTER IX. CONCERNING SOME OF THE DELIGHTS OF DEATH WHEN I first sighted the welcome gleam of the Start light it lay, as near as I could judge, a couple of points on my starboard bow. I had evidently steered a wider course than I had intended, and it was by the merest chance that we had not entirely missed the port for which we were bound. But when I came to alter my course by a point, I became aware more fully than I had been before of the ticklish nature of the task before me. Even this slight alteration in our course was sufficient to bring a shower of spray all over the Mist from every wave she encountered, and I could see that when it became necessary to put her about in order to make Salcombe Harbour our position would be one of no slight peril. Once on her beam ends, a single sea breaking aboard would swamp her engines and — well the Mist would be as evanescent as her namesake. I explained the matter to Sanders as well as I could in the hurly-burly, and asked him whether he was will- ing to take the risk. For my own part I had had quite enough of the gale and was quite willing to face the additional peril in the hope of a speedy termination 85 86 The Cruise of the Conqueror to “our trouble. And this view I found to be shared by my engineer. “We have had nothin’ to eat for nigh on twelve hours,” he remarked, in a voice which was plaintive in spite of the fact that he had to shout the words in order that they should reach my ear. “An’ the sooner we are comfortably ashore the better I shall be pleased.” “If we can manage to get there,” I replied. “We shall manage to do that right enough,” he answered cheerily, and straightway began to take all possible precautions for our safety by seeing that all the fastenings of the covering of the boat were tight. For another hour we drove on and then, judging the time had come to make for the harbour, with my heart in my mouth, I shouted to Sanders my intention to go about. The moment I waited for came when, cresting a huge wave, it seemed to me that the water beyond was a trifle less troubled. Setting the engines going at their fullest capacity I swung the Mist round in nearly half a circle. For five seconds it was touch and go. As we came broadside on to the sea, the Mist was caught by a wave, and it seemed to me that she had gone under, for amidst the smother and the foam I could see nothing. But the next moment she answered to the wheel, and a second later, with the wind now on our port quarter, we were flying for the opening in the big cliffs of the South Devon coast, guarded on the one side by Prawle Point and on the other by Bolt Head. Hitherto I had been afraid to go our fastest for fear of shipping the seas, but now, Some of the Delights of Death 87 in order to avoid the same fate, I found it necessary to let the Mist do her best. And nobly she repaid our confidence. Follow they never so swiftly, the waves could not overtake the elusive Mist, and another ten minutes had not elapsed before we could hear the crash of the breakers on the rocks as we neared the land. I guessed I had gauged my course fairly accurately, but all the same it was with profound thankfulness that I saw the lights which marked the channel and knew that the last difficulty we had to encounter would be passed in a very few minutes. During those few minutes I more than once thought that I would have been thankful to be again in the open sea. Deafened with the roar of the breakers, enveloped in a cloud of spray, tossed hither and thither as the sea boiled in the fairway, several times I thought the Mist would vanish for ever on the rocks. But our luck held. We won through at last and none too soon, for even as I realized that we were safe within the bar, Sanders announced that one of the engines had ceased to work and I could tell from the coughing of the other that it would not be long before it was in a similar plight. However, it held out long enough to enable us to run the Mist up the estuary to the basin I had orig- inally prepared for her reception, and there, making her fast, we were thankful enough to step ashore. I do not think I am a sentimentalist, though I am not so sure about Sanders, but the first thing we did on landing was to face each other and shake hands. 88 The Cruise of the Conqueror Neither of us said a word; there was no need for it, since the grip we each gave the other was far more expressive than anything either of us might have said. Then we staggered up the hilly path which led to the little cottage that Sanders had chosen for his dwelling- place. We were soaking wet from head to foot, our limbs were cramped and stiff, and I at least was so tired that I could have laid down as I was and gone straight off to sleep. Being in this condition it was fortunate for the purposes of my plan that Sanders was some- what of a misogynist. When on engaging him he had taken a little two-roomed cottage, and declared his in- tention of fending for himself, because he “disliked a parcel of clatterin’ women about him,” I had chaffed him a good deal, but now I was only too glad that he had preferred a bachelor establishment to accepting a room at my own house or taking apartments in the little town. Our arrival, I fancied, could not have been re- marked, for on our way to his cottage we met no one. Even had we done so I should probably not have been recognized, although I had stuffed the wig with which Forrest had provided me into my pocket, and I knew, even before I looked at my face in the glass, that the buffeting it had undergone would have been sufficient to remove the paint with which the detective had been careful to obliterate my natural complexion. At the moment, though, I paid little heed to any- thing. I followed Sanders to his door mechanically, and immediately he had unlocked it I blundered into the cottage and dropped into a chair, and there I re- Some of the Delights of Death 89 mained while he drew the curtains and lighted his lamp, which stood ready trimmed on the table. Nor did I move, until, producing a gallon jar from a cup- board and a couple of tumblers, he half-filled one of the glasses with the amber-coloured contents and handed it to me with the remark, “Milk for babes an’ the whiskey for men is food an’ drink for both.” I laughed a little stupidly and my hand trembled as I held it out for the tumbler. “Where’s the water?” I asked. “Ye'll no want the water,” replied Sanders as he helped himself to a similar dose and tossed it off with- out so much as a wink. “This is the genuine stuff, none of your English poison, an’ after it you’ll sleep as sound as if the good old Mist had been at the bot- tom of the Channel with the two of us beside her. The only difference being that maybe ye’ll awaken in the mornin’.” I made no further objection, and truth to tell, I no more realized that I was drinking neat spirit than if it had been so much water. Afterwards I had a dim remembrance of stripping off my soddened clothes and wrapping myself in a blanket, and then I was asleep. The day was well advanced when I awoke, and I wondered for a couple of minutes where I was and what had happened. It was Sanders's voice which ultimately aroused me to a perception of what had be- fallen as he called out at the open door, “It’s ower late for breakfast an’ower early for lunch, but judging 90 The Cruise of the Conqueror your appetite by my own I will take leave to suggest that we eat the two together.” Then I realized that the good fellow had tumbled me into his own bed and had contented himself with the floor in the outer room, which alone was quite sufficient to account for the fact that he had slept more lightly than I had done. I sprang out of bed to find that my clothes had been carefully dried, though, if he had been able to see them, Forrest would no longer have needed to advise me to take any means to dis- guise their newness. However, after a wash down, followed by a careful toilet, in which the sticks of paint the detective had left with me played their due part, I got them on and joined the engineer in the second room of the cottage, which served him as kitchen, din- ing-room, and parlour alike. He had already been at work making ready a substantial breakfast. Porridge, ham, eggs, bread, butter, tea, I did justice to all that he had provided, and when, after I had satisfied my hunger, I lit a cigarette, I began to think that the ex- perience of the previous night was not without redeem- ing after effects. When Sanders, too, had finished, lighting his pipe he puffed away with an air of contentment for awhile, surveying me with undisguised amusement. “Ye'll have to take to a pipe,” he remarked, when I tossed the end of the cigarette I was smoking into the fireplace and prepared to light another. “Those twisted little bits of paper are not exactly in character with that get-up.” 92 The Cruise of the Conqueror consulted with Inspector Forrest. So far as I can see I can only remain quietly at home here and await eventualities.” “Well, I shall only be too delighted to have you as a guest,” he remarked. “Oh! I am not going to quarter myself on you to that extent,” I replied. “I think I can manage to live at home without being discovered.” Indeed, my house at Salcombe was admirably suited for the adoption of any such course of action. More than a mile removed from the little town, it stood on the side of a hill in its own grounds, which were so well wooded that it was perfectly screened from obser- vation. I should, I knew, have to take my servants into confidence, but I had no great fear that they would betray it. The housekeeper had known me from a boy, the youngest of the maids had entered our serv- ice a few months after our marriage, and I thought that, if they were warned, their discretion might be assured for long enough to serve my turn. Still, I could not make my appearance in my present rig-out, so I sent Sanders up to the house to make inquiries as to when my wife was expected to arrive, while I remained in his cottage and devoted myself with as- siduity to the attempt to break myself in to the pipe with which the engineer had presented me. He returned in about an hour with the information that Evie was expected to arrive that same evening, so I proposed that we should devote the rest of the day to overhauling the Mist and once more putting Some of the Delights of Death 93 her into racing trim in view of any possible chance occurring which would enable us to make use of her. By that time the news of the arrival of the Mist in the course of the night had got abroad, and a number of the local gossips had found their way to the land- ing-stage in order to learn fuller particulars of the mysterious events of the past few days and gaze upon one at least of the actors in them. I was delighted to find that my disguise was effective and that every one took Sanders's word when he described me as a handy man he had picked up at Dover, upon Mrs. Sut- grove's instructions, to assist him in bringing the Mist home to Salcombe. I was equally delighted and in no small degree amused, too, by the readiness with which he answered the shoal of questions which were poured upon him. He told me afterwards that he was afraid once or twice that he found it difficult to keep a de- cently sober expression on his countenance when he had to express his regret at the loss of his employer. “Even if I hadna' liked you, man,” he said, “I would have been bound to perjure my immortal soul for the sake of my bread and butter, to say nothing of the whiskey.” For my own part his decorous gravity as he had discussed my perfections and imperfections had seemed to me quite flawless. Never so much as by a twitch of his countenance had he betrayed the fact that the man upon whom he was bestowing the following apprecia- tion was standing by his side. “A pleasant, well-favoured man ye call him. Well, CHAPTER X. WE HOLD A COUNCIL OF WAR THE best tribute paid to my disguise was when I found that my wife failed to recognize me. I was standing with Sanders in the hall when she entered the house, and her glance passed me by with merely a sort of mute interrogation of cursory wonder as to what I was doing there. Sanders, on the contrary, she at once eagerly invited to follow her to the study. I went with him, and as I entered after him, silently twirling my cap in my hand, she remarked, “Cannot you leave your friend outside for a minute or two, Mr. Sanders?” “What? Evie | * I Said. She recognized my voice, and it was Sanders who stepped outside without waiting to be asked to with- draw either. We did not keep him there long, however, for after a few hasty inquiries as to the welfare of our child I called him back, at the same time asking Evie to summon the rest of the servants. Our establishment was not a large one, but when my wife had explained who the unkempt new arrival really was, their exclamations of wonder would have 95 96 The Cruise of the Conqueror done duty for a much larger gathering. Then I took up the story, and, having extracted pledges of secrecy, I dismissed them to their duties, myself hastening to my dressing-room to resume my own personality before the arrival of our youngster, whom Evie had left in charge of Edith Withington to follow on with the lug- gage in another carriage, she having preceded them in order to ascertain what my plans were. Taken altogether we were a very merry party, the dead and the living, who sat down to dinner together that night, though I admit I was a little bit worried when I realized to what I had committed myself if I desired to keep up the fiction of my death. It was not as if I had been a bachelor. To do the thing prop- erly, I soon perceived under my wife's instruction, would necessitate attention to a hundred little details which had never presented themselves to my imagina- tion. There was the question of mourning. For her- self Evie declared that she would not don widow’s weeds nor put the little one into black, and she de- clared that she could escape criticism by letting it be known that she was too much grief-stricken to go abroad or to see any one; but the servants would have to be put into mourning, and so on. A hundred triv- ialities had to be provided against. I felt inclined to end the farce at that moment, and it was only the knowledge that Forrest had thought well of my idea which determined me to wait at least until I had the opportunity of once again talking the matter over with him. We Hold a Council of War 97 It was a couple of days before he arrived, however, and by that time we had gone so far that I determined in any event to postpone the date of my resurrection for a month or two. Though I had awaited Forrest's promised arrival with a certain amount of impatience, yet I must confess that the time passed rapidly. One or two visitors could not be denied, and though it was a nuisance to be bundled out of the way while my wife received them in a room carefully darkened in order that the traces of her grief should not be too conspic- uous while she listened to their conventional condo- lences, there was compensation in her relation of the unique experience. Meanwhile Mr. Withington had joined us, having brought his steam-yacht, a hand- some and comfortable boat of 250 tons, capable of doing seventeen knots, round from Dover and anchored her in Salcombe Harbour. He joined us in the afternoon of the second day after my wife's arrival, and that same evening Forrest made his promised appearance, dropping in as if he were merely a casual visitor in the neighbourhood. Thus, our party being complete, on the night of the detective's arrival we gathered in my study for a coun- cil of war over our after-dinner coffee and cigars. First I told Forrest and Withington of our meeting with the Pirate in the Channel, and they both listened intently. Forrest nodded when I had finished. “He was sighted by a French destroyer that same night twenty 98 The Cruise of the Conqueror miles north of Ushant and steering a course almost due south.” “That looks as if he was making for some part of the French coast,” I remarked. “Where Mannering is concerned, the obvious is the last thing he may be counted upon to do,” replied For- rest. “He must have some hiding-place, and it ought not to be difficult to locate it,” remarked Withington. “A boat like the Conqueror would excite comment any- where.” - “That is just what I thought,” said Forrest. “It scarcely seems possible that a boat of so distinctive a character could have been built without exciting re- mark, but the moment that I began to make inquiry I found that absolutely nothing is known about her. I looked at the original entry for the Cross-Channel race, thinking that I should find some clue to help me. It was all in order, merely a letter written on note-paper stamped with a most gorgeous crest, ad- dressed from Barcelona, signed Juan Davila de Leon, and containing names purporting to be those of the builder of the boat and of the maker of the engines, both of these latter seemingly the names of Barcelona firms.” “That is just what misled us all,” I interpolated. “It seemed absurd to think that anything swift could come out of Spain.” “It is quite possible that you are not so far wrong after all,” replied the detective. “We have communi- We Hold a Council of War 99 cated with Barcelona, with the result that we find that nothing is known of any Juan Davila de Leon at the address he gave, nor of either of the firms whose names were mentioned in his letter.” “One would have expected nothing less of Manner- ing,” I said. “In these days of journalistic enterprise,” continued Forrest, “it is practically certain that had the Con- queror been built in any well-known yard, or even in any well-known country, some particulars regarding her would have leaked out before this, but so far as I could gather no single eye save that of Mannering and his assistant had rested upon her until she was sighted by the lookout on the Dunster Castle.” “Well?” asked Mr. Withington. “It seems unnecessary almost for me to point out,” said the inspector, “that Mannering must have not only built his boat himself, but that he must also have done so in some place which was secure from obser- vation.” “Of his capabilities for doing that sort of thing under the very eyes of those who have made it their business to run him to earth, we have already had an experience in the past,” I remarked. “Just so, confound him l’’ replied Forrest, “ and if we were to be guided absolutely by past experience we should have to look for him somewhere in the Kings- bridge River.” I laughed before I answered decidedly, “No; I'll wager the whole of my possessions that the Conqueror i (; 1851 tº * 100 The Cruise of the Conqueror has never crossed the Salcombe bar, and as for having been built anywhere on the estuary, it is a flat im- possibility.” “I think you would win your wager,” said Forrest. “I agree that it would be a sheer impossibility for him to have built it anywhere in England, and it would be still more difficult for him to take his petrol aboard without exciting remark.” “Petrol?” I asked, eagerly. “Yes,” said Forrest. “I learned that he filled up his tanks with petrol at Calais before the race.” “Then we ought not to find it difficult to trace him by discovering the line of his supply,” said With- ington. “H–m,” grunted Forrest, “Mannering is not likely to have left an open trail for any one to follow. You may depend upon it that he has already either pro- vided himself with a store upon which he can draw for a considerable period or arranged for it reaching him through a channel which will not be easily dis- coverable. I don’t anticipate much result from follow- ing up that clue, although it will, of course, be done at once. No, I think I could make a much better guess at his whereabouts if I knew a little more about the construction of his boat. If it were possible to get anywhere near the correct details as to how far his petrol would carry him we might be able to limit the space in which we shall have to look for him. Can you help me, Sutgrove?” He turned to me. “It’s only guesswork,” I answered as I took a pencil We Hold a Council of War 101 and a piece of paper, “based upon what I have learned from running the Mist.” “Still, you use petrol, don’t you?” he asked. “Yes,” I said. “I find that the Mist uses a pint per horse-power per hour, and, as you know, she is of 250 h.p. with a storage capacity of five hundred gal- lons. Now from what I have seen of the Conqueror I should judge that both her power and storage capacity are just about double those of the Mist. Thus, taking her possible speed at forty knots, her consumption of petrol would work out at something like one and a half gallons per mile, or, in other words, she would have a striking radius of 750 miles.” “Bearing in mind, of course,” interpolated Withing- ton, who had followed my calculation carefully, “that at the end of the 750 miles run her tanks would be empty.” “So that in reality,” said Forrest, “Mannering's boat has an effective striking range of 375 miles from his base, wherever that may be?” “Exactly,” I answered. “Then,” continued the detective, “how do you ac- count for his movements from the first day of his appearance?” Neither I nor my American guest said a word for awhile. “Let me tabulate the appearances,” continued For- rest. “On the Tuesday he leaves the Dunster Castle, somewhere in the neighbourhood of Finisterre, with a couple of heavy boats in tow. On the Wednesday 102 The Cruise of the Conqueror night he puts in an appearance at Calais and manages to refill his tanks. On the Thursday night he leaves Dover, and on Saturday night he passes you steering southwest, and later is sighted off Ushant. Puzzle: Find his base of operations.” I rose from my easy chair and hauled down a map from the shelf. “Let us work it out,” I suggested. But Mr. Withington merely stretched out his legs and said, quietly, “What's to prevent our piratical friend having a floating base from which to operate? It's simple enough,” explained the American. “All he has to do is to arrange for a steamer to meet him at an agreed open spot, and he could fill his tanks from her as easily as he could do so on shore.” “There's a good deal in what you say,” replied For- rest, thoughtfully. We sat for a long while that evening discussing the possibilities of the situation, and we could only come to the conclusion that he must have some lair on the Spanish or Portuguese coast. Forrest informed us that the authorities having already arrived at the same conclusion, the Admiralty had taken steps to have the suspected waters patrolled. But we could formu- late no new plan of campaign. Forrest left us the next morning, promising to let me know immediately he heard anything further, and once more I settled down to wait as patiently as I might for any event which should bring me the oppor- tunity I needed. However, since the Pirate had been sighted off Ushant, nothing more had been seen or We Hold a Council of War 103 heard of him. The public impression, at least so I gathered from the newspapers, was that he had foun- dered in the gale, and nearly every paper devoted a con- siderable space to pointing out the improbability of a frail craft of the kind being able to survive such a storm. But I knew from my own experience that a much less well-fitted boat had managed to live through the gale, and I attributed Mannering's disappearance to a comprehension of the stir which the story of his daring would have created, and pictured him to myself as merely waiting until the excitement had subsided before emerging from his retirement to awaken it once more. Through Forrest I learned that this also was the official view, and so far as Mannering's appearance in the vicinity of my home was concerned I felt that, for awhile at least, I should have nothing to fear. Accordingly in my disguise I spent a good part of each day in the Mist, accompanied sometimes by Sanders and at others by Withington. Under ordinary circumstances I should have found this sort of existence pleasant enough, but whether it was the realization of the fact that I was waiting for something to occur for which I might have to wait six months, or twelve for the matter of that, before it did occur, or whether I grew tired of being somebody other than myself, I found the days began to pass very slowly, and when, after a fortnight had elapsed, With- ington suggested a run round to Plymouth in his yacht, I welcomed the idea. I wanted my wife to bring our little Evie with Edith Withington to make 104 The Cruise of the Conqueror up the party, but she had got an idea into her head that there was more chance of meeting Mannering on sea than on land, and though she did not fear for herself she would not run into any danger. Accordingly we left the ladies at home, and dropped into Plymouth just before sunset with the intention of dining comfortably at the Royal Hotel and visiting the theatre afterwards for a couple of hours. I think from the very moment I started that I felt a certain amount of uneasiness at leaving Evie even for the short period I proposed, but whether that was so or not, I know very well that I quite failed to enjoy my dinner. My restlessness was so obvious that Withington re- marked upon it, and when I confessed the cause he declared that I had been dwelling upon my own thoughts too much and that it was quite time I had a change. His remarks did not do much to soothe me, however, and I was very glad when we got aboard again and slipped out of the harbour on our return to Salcombe. I felt a little easier in mind when, after rounding the point which hides the town, I saw glimmering on the hill the lights of my house. Even then I was the first in the dinghy, and no sooner did we touch the steps of the little quay, than I jumped ashore and without waiting for anybody else hurried homewards. What possessed me to do so I cannot tell, but it was well I obeyed the impulse. What I had dreaded had come to pass. CHAPTER XI. WHEREIN MY GHOST WALKS I suppose everybody must have experienced at some time or another something similar to the strange sen- sation which possessed me and, despite my efforts to reason it away, impelled me to act as I did. I do not pretend to even a bowing acquaintance with psychol- ogy, so I must leave the explanation for this strange state of mind in more erudite hands. The moment I touched the land it seemed to me that the idea of something impending, the fear to which I could not give a name, the sense of an imminent peril, seized hold of me with redoubled force. It was almost as if some one were calling me with a voice which it was impossible to resist. I tried to tell myself that this feeling was merely the result of an overwrought brain, the mere jangle of overstrained nerves. I found no relief thereby. On the contrary, my anxiety only deepened, I commenced to hasten my steps, and as soon as I had passed through the Salcombe street I began to run. My home was a good mile from the quay, so that by the time I had reached the lodge gate I had not a great deal of breath left, for the road had been all up-hill; I had covered the distance in seven 105 106 The Cruise of the Conqueror minutes at the most. I just vaulted the gate and then, for what reason I do not know, moderated my pace to a walk. The path still led upward, mounting the hill in a succession of easy curves. A pleasant breeze was blow- ing, and the grasshoppers chirped from the grass on either side. A little higher up I came beneath the trees which encircled the house. It was very dark beneath their shade, for the night was moonless. The leaves seemed to be whispering to me to hasten my steps. I came out from the shadow of the trees on to the wide lawn which stretched directly around the house, bordered on one side by a continuation of the drive I had just traversed. Everything looked peaceful. There were lights in some of the bedroom windows, and my first glance showed me that Evie was probably still up and awaiting our return, for there was a bright light streaming from the three French windows of the draw- ing-room opening on to the veranda and giving direct access to the lawn. “What a fool you are,” I said to myself, as I stepped on to the soft turf in order to make a short cut to the lighted room. But the moment, when crossing the line of light, I came in view of the interior, I ceased to reproach myself, for my eyes rested upon a scene in some such rude drama as I had anticipated, and which, now it had occurred, had commenced in my absence. There, his hand resting lightly on a little table upon which lay his yachting cap, stood Mannering, and opposite him was my wife, pale to the lips, but with Wherein My Ghost Walks 107 every line of her figure speaking more clearly than words could do of defiance. “I am not too late. Thank God, I am not too late,” I whispered to myself. I had become suddenly quite cool. There was the man who, besides attempting my life, had now come to rob me of what was far dearer than life. I stepped aside into the shadow, and my hand went to the pocket where I thought my revolver lay hidden. Heavens! It was not there. Too late I remembered that when dressing aboard the yacht be- fore going ashore to dine, I had left the weapon in the clothes I had cast off. On returning, I had worn my evening clothes, merely covering them with a light overcoat, as the night had been pleasantly warm. Well, I should have to do without arms, that was all. I had no fear now. Faced with the reality, there was no time left for the imagination to become active. My steps fell noiselessly on the turf as I approached the windows, and stealthily as a cat I stepped on to the tiling of the veranda, keeping clear of the bright bands of light. All of the windows were thrown widely open, and as I crept to the open casement nearest to the spot where Mannering was standing, his voice came clearly to my ear. “You know I was never a man to be paltered with,” he was saying. “At least, I have always given you credit for such intelligence as would lead you to come to that conclusion, and when I say that I want you, it is sufficient for you to know that you must needs come with me.” 108 The Cruise of the Conqueror His tone was masterful, and knowing how in the past he had been able to hold Evie in thrall—his power she had again and again declared was best described as the fascination of repulsion — I peered anxiously into the room to observe the effect of his words upon her. I knew then, that whatever had been his power over her in the past, it was no longer existent in the present. “It is not sufficient,” she replied, with an accent of sarcasm in her voice, and that, too, told me that Evie's fear of him had departed for ever. “It is not sufficient for me to know that you want me, to make me do your bidding. Don't you think you are putting rather a strain upon my credulity when you ask me to believe such a statement?” “Believe it or not, as you please,” replied Mannering. “Refuse or not, as you like.” “I most certainly decline to do anything so absurd,” replied my wife in the tone of one refusing to attend a revivalist meeting or some other equally unpleasant function. “Whether you decline or not will make no differ- ence,” said Mannering, angrily. Then his voice changed. “What is there to keep you in this cold, stupid Eng- land?” he urged. “There are far brighter lands. Why chain yourself to a dull round of petty conven- tions and faded sensations when a new life awaits you? You will not be content with this stagnant pond when the joy of travelling on a swift current of life calls to you.”. “I am content here,” she replied simply. Wherein My Ghost Walks 109 “Content?” he repeated scornfully. “Content for how long? No doubt you are comfortable, but this?” — he made a gesture of disdain—“this is nothing to the luxury in which I can place you. Come,” he said, “let me paint you the picture of the sort of home you may have in the future. I tell you that the wealth which lies within your grasp, which it is within my power to bestow, will make the kings of both hemi- spheres jealous—the dollar kings of the West equally with the crowned kings of the East.” In a perfectly even voice, which was cutting in its coldness, Evie replied, “I have not the faintest desire to be a toy for a pirate king of pantomime to hang his pieces of glass upon.” “Scarcely a pirate king of pantomime,” he said grimly. “I was merely judging you by your speech,” she remarked. “It may sound ridiculous to you,” he replied, “but again I say that you should by this time know that I am no boaster. Think of it. There is nothing left to keep you in this land. There was a tie, but that has been severed. I will take your child with you.” The mother's wrath blazed out. “With my will, indeed, so long as I have breath, my darling shall not be so much as polluted by a glance of your eyes.” “Soh!” breathed Mannering, and as if recognizing the uselessness of appeal he changed his tone for one of menace. “There's only one really effective way with women — the way the Sabines peopled Rome, you re- 110 The Cruise of the Conqueror member *—he laughed sardonically. “I must ask you to accompany me, madame.” I moved forward a couple of paces. Already I had stripped off my overcoat, and cast aside my wig and moustache. I had no desire to seem other than myself when I gripped my enemy again. Needless to say, his last remark had made me feel pretty murderous. As I stood without the window he was only five or six yards distant. He and Evie were facing each other, their faces being in profile, my wife being the further away. “I must ask you to accompany me,” repeated Man- nering, “ or >> He held a revolver in his hand, and he raised it as he spoke. “I cannot give you more than a minute to make up your mind.” I hardly knew what to do. Supposing when I dashed upon Mannering he should turn the pistol upon Evie. Quick as the thought flashed through my mind I realized that I must take the risk of such an eventu- ality. But before I translated my thought into action, Evie, glancing up, saw me, and with wonderful pres- ence of mind straightway formulated a plan to extricate herself from the dilemma. Before I could move she was speaking again. “You think you have me in your power, Mr. Man- nering,” she said, “but let me tell you that there is one who swore to protect me from you dead or alive. I have no fear of you.” She looked him straight in the eyes, and there was a peculiar thrill in her voice, “Do Wherein My Ghost Walks 111 you know he is near us now? Watching—ever watch- ing. Yes, you may think Jim is dead, and dead he is to the world, but — but—” her voice sank to an im- pressive whisper – “he is not dead to me, and he will not be dead to you. Hark!” “Pooh!” remarked Mannering, but I could tell that he was uneasy. “You cannot scare me with that sort of nonsense.” “Nonsense?” replied Evie in the same hushed note of conviction. “Nonsense? No, it is not nonsense. Since he died I have seen him. He came to me, in the night—I was listening to the rustling of the leaves, for it was a night like this—“Dear,’ he said, ‘when danger of any kind threatens I shall be near. You have only to call my name.’ Do you want to see?” She had held him so completely with her glance that I might have reached him without observation on his part, but truth to tell I was too much amazed at the turn the conversation had taken to do anything but stand stupidly still. Suddenly Evie held up her hand. “Jim!'” she cried in an awestricken whisper. “Jim” She turned from Mannering as if he had passed from existence and looked straight at me. Mannering's eyes followed her glance, and, as they rested on me, the look of incredulity faded from his countenance and was succeeded by one of the most poignant horror I have ever seen depicted in the face of man before or since. I made no movement. 112 The Cruise of the Conqueror “Jim,” said Evie again, “I knew you would come,” and as she took a couple of paces towards me, I stepped forward to meet her. My advance was too much for Mannering. With livid face, and the sweat drops bursting from his forehead, he staggered back. “Keep away! Keep away!” he cried hoarsely. I did not speak lest the sound of my voice should break the spell of fear my appearance had cast upon him. As I advanced into the room I saw that there were other parties to the drama. Mannering had not come alone on the adventure, his companion being none other than the engineer of the Conqueror. The latter had been invisible to me until I had entered the room, for he lolled on a couch between the windows with Edith Withington beside him. The American girl had drawn herself as far away from the evil-look- ing ruffian as she could, but he held her tightly round the waist with one arm, while in his free hand he brandished an ugly-looking sheath-knife. But as I came into view his hold on the girl relaxed. He recognized me, even as Mannering had done, and it seemed as if the fear which had seized hold of the master had infected the man. “Ach, Gott!” he grunted hoarsely, as the knife fell from his fingers and clattered on the floor, “It is the spirit of the Dover man.” Mannering's face had appeared ghastly enough, but it was composed in comparison with that of his com- rade. The man was a red-haired, heavy-jowled German, and under ordinary circumstances might have been Wherein My Ghost Walks 113 deemed sufficiently ugly to excite repulsion in the eyes of the average man. But under the influence of super- natural terror he became absolutely hideous. His thick lips turned a livid hue, the blue colour being continued in a scar which extended from the corner of his mouth across one cheek. His face was pale and his bulging eyes seemed bursting from his head. But strangest of all was the effect upon the huge ears, which appeared to stand out at right angles. Under the influence of his terror the facial muscles twitched so strongly that the ears waved to and fro, the only moving point in a frozen mask of horror. Slowly I advanced towards the two men, for Man- nering had backed towards his comrade as if for pro- tection. But my approach was more than the German could bear. With a howl he jumped to his feet and bounded to the window. He tripped as he did so and fell with a crash, bringing down with him an occasional table. Turning my eyes for a moment from Man- nering, upon whom I had hitherto kept them steadily fixed, that individual also turned his back upon me and rushed for the open. I sprang forward to arrest his progress, but I was too late. Fear had lent his feet wings. He was across the room and had vanished into the night before I had made a couple of steps in his direction. The German, too, blundering to his feet, hurled himself through a window, and I, seeing Man- nering had disappeared, turning in pursuit of him, tripped over the table he had upset and measured my length upon the ground. 114 The Cruise of the Conqueror But the German had not escaped entirely unscathed. Even as he had fled, Edith Withington, taking the only thing handy which would serve as a missile, the knife which the ruffian had dropped, hurled it at him with so good an aim that it struck him full on the cheek and supplied him with a duplicate scar to the one he had acquired on some previous occasion. I picked myself up as quickly as I could, and rushed out on to the lawn. Even as I did so I heard Withing- ton’s voice. “Mannering,” I gasped. “Quick, or we shall lose him.” He was a man of action and wasted no time on any useless inquiries. “I’ll just get a gun,” he re- marked, dashing into the house. “Bring me one, too,” I shouted, as he disappeared. Meanwhile Evie had alarmed the household, and she had been joined by the scared servants who had been aroused already by the disturbance created by the German in his flight. The two men servants joined me as Withington returned with a couple of revolvers in his hand. CHAPTER XII. IN WEHICH MANNERING ESCAPES THE TOILS I HAD half-crossed the lawn when I came to a sudden halt. “Confound it!” I cried, “I have forgotten the signal.” Here let me explain the reason which so suddenly pulled me up at the very beginning of the chase. The only outcome of our council of war had been the de- vising of a plan to put the coast-guard on the alert if the Pirate should by any chance make his appearance in our midst. I had thought that any such proceeding would have been quite unnecessary, but Forrest, with his methodical habit of providing for all emergencies, had thought otherwise, and I had eventually accepted his suggestion. He had argued that even if Mannering did make his appearance he might escape my hands, and that any precaution which might cut him off from his boat would be worth while taking. Consequently he had interviewed the captain of the coast-guard and had arranged for steps to be taken with this object upon warning rockets being fired from my house. He had been particularly insistent upon this plan being adopted because of the nature of the coast, and I was now profoundly thankful that he had made the arrange- 115 116 The Cruise of the Conqueror ment. For ten miles at least there were not half a dozen spots where Mannering could land, and the dis- tance he was from any of them made it quite certain that he would not have time to reach even the nearest of these before the coast-guard, if my signal should be seen. Therefore it was with the comfortable feeling of having power to cut off my enemy's retreat that I hastily retraced my steps to the spot where three rocket tubes were placed upon the lawn, and sent up the rockets at intervals of a few seconds. Even before the light had faded from the sky I turned and hastened towards the entrance gate with Withington and the two men servants close at my heels. Once out of my grounds I turned away from the harbour. If Mannering had had the audacity to enter there I knew that he was safely bottled, for Sanders was aboard the yacht, and some one would be certain to call his attention to the rockets. Besides, as a means of precaution the yacht had been anchored each night in a position to command the entrance to the fairway and had been provided with a one-pound quick- firer which would be quite sufficient to put an end to the Conqueror's capacities for mischief if she came within range. I soon had ocular demonstration that my signal had been observed from the yacht, for even as we passed the lodge gate three answering rockets from the har- bour repeated my warning. I did not expect, however, that Mannering would have taken the risk of entering so dangerous a passage Mannering Escapes the Toils 117 - when there were a number of other places, where in calm weather, such as at present prevailed, he might land with much less chance of being observed. The nearest of these was a little bay about a couple of miles as the crow flies distant from my house, which seemed to me to be much more likely to be selected by him for a landing-place than any other. This bay, lying under Bolt Head, was approachable from the open sea, the bottom was soft sand, and it was deeply shaded by the broken cliff, which was thickly wooded fifty feet from the water-line, and at the base broken up into numberless secure but narrow coves. It was, therefore, in the direction of this bay that we hurried, leaving the road after awhile to take a short cut through a piece of woodland, and then to follow a little stream through some meadows in its path towards the sea. We made a breathless sort of progres- sion, but our advance was rapid in spite of the dark- ness, which, though annoying in some respects, I reckoned would be, if anything, in our favour, since Mannering would certainly not be better acquainted with the country than myself. Fortunately, our path was all down-hill, so that when we tripped over ob- stacles there was very little delay. We blundered on for a quarter of an hour, when suddenly the sound of a pistol-shot directly ahead made us redouble our pace. We were then just about a quarter of a mile from the bay for which we were making, and our way was entirely through rough pasture. I could only put one construction upon the sound 118. The Cruise of the Conqueror of the shot which we had just heard. Mannering had reached the place and had found one or more of the coast-guard awaiting him. Hoping that I should not be too late, I darted forward at the top of my speed. I came to the last meadow, beyond which lay the coast road, and beyond that again the wall protecting the road from the sea, and as I dashed across the turf I gazed eagerly into the darkness, but I could see noth- ing. A few seconds later I stood on the road and strained my eyes upon the sea. I was not mistaken in my deductions. The tide was low, and fifty yards distant I saw a long, slender boat, just a line of deeper darkness upon the face of the night. I heard Withington come panting on be- hind me as I dropped over the wall and plumped on to the soft sand. Once on the level I could see more clearly, and I was certain that it was the Conqueror I was gazing upon, though the boat was only dimly visible, outlined against the open sea beyond the mouth of the bay. But it looked as if I should not be too late, for in the next moment my eyes took in another fea- ture of the scene. One of the two fugitives was already in the boat, but the other was still on land, en- gaged in a furious struggle with another man. But even as I watched, the struggle ended. One man broke loose, the other staggered and fell, and as he did so he uttered a cry, which, as it rose from his lips, was cut short, to end in a long-drawn bubbling groan. The man who had torn himself away dashed into the water, and, active as a cat, lifted himself aboard the boat, which Mannering Escapes the Toils 119 immediately shot away from the shore. I uttered a yell of disappointment as I dashed forward, and, rais- ing my revolver, fired as fast as my finger could press the trigger. It can be easily understood that my aim was not successful. Any one who has ever attempted to hit a rapidly moving mark after a two-miles run can readily conceive why I should have missed. In fact, even before I had emptied the magazine of my pistol, the Pirate had swept round the point which shut in the bay from the south, and had disappeared. I could have howled aloud in my vexation, and for a moment I stood still, gazing despairingly in the direc- tion of the vanished boat. But I was not allowed to remain so for long. A cry from Withington recalled me to action. “Come here, Sutgrove,” he said, in a sharp, anxious voice. As I turned in his direction he struck a match. I saw him bending over the prostrate form of a man, and I stepped towards him. He was not more than a dozen paces distant, and I had taken two of them when I tripped over something soft and fell on my face. One of my hands outstretched to save myself from injury touched a face, and my fingers were covered with something warm and clammy. With a shudder of horror I picked myself up, first wiping my hand on the sand, and, shivering all over, joined Withington without a word. “See here,” he said gently, as I reached his side, “he 120 The Cruise of the Conqueror has done for this poor fellow.” Bending to the ground he struck a second match, and the light of the flicker- ing flame revealed the pallid face of one of the coast- guard. The glazing eyes were enough to have as- sured us of his fate even had there been no other sign of death. But the clean little blue hole drilled in his forehead spoke only too eloquently as to the means by which fate had overtaken him. “I don’t understand,” remarked Withington, as the light flickered out. “I thought I saw two chaps strug- gling together, and yet I heard no shot after I got on the beach. This man could never have moved after that hole was drilled in his forehead.” “You have not seen the whole of the handiwork of the Pirate,” I answered. “Come this way.” Retracing my steps to the spot where I had fallen I struck a light. I shiver now when I think of what met our view. I do not know to this day which of the two ruffians had been responsible for the ghastly work, but whichever of them had done it had known no compunction. A re- morseless heart had guided the powerful hand which had drawn the knife across the throat of the poor fel- low lying at our feet and ended his existence with one blow. While we bent over him to see if perchance any sign of life lingered yet within him, there came a patter of feet on the sand and my two servants made their appearance. It had occurred to me that they had not been quite so rapid in their progress as they might Mannering Escapes the Toils 121 have been. But I did not blame them. One does not engage servants nowadays for their physical attributes, nor am I optimistic enough to suppose that they con- sider a rough and tumble with pirates to be a part of the daily duties they are engaged to perform. “It is all up with this one, too,” said Withington, as they came on the scene. “What is to be done?” I had made up my mind — the events of the past few days rather tended towards inculcating the neces- sity for rapidity of decision — on one point at least, namely, that dead I appeared to be a far more efficient protection to Evie than if I were alive. So I stood for a minute thinking how I could manage under these new circumstances still to lie perdu in face of the out- cry which must of necessity arise. I called the two servants closer and rapidly explained to them my de- termination to remain still in concealment. Then I turned to Withington. “You will have to take the lead in this affair,” I said. “It was you who disturbed the pirates in an endeavour to break into my house; it was you who took up the pursuit with the servants, and it was you who arrived here in time to see them sail away and to discover these poor victims of their bloodthirsty methods. What need is there to mention my name in connection with it? Besides, we can get Forrest down, and he will be able to explain matters to the coroner in order to avoid any awkward questions being asked at the inquest.” “Well, I’ll see the matter through,” he answered, 122 The Cruise of the Conqueror after brief deliberation, though I could see from his tone that he disliked the job. I thanked him warmly and I turned to the two serv- ants. One I sent to the coast-guard station, which was less than half a mile distant, with strict instruc- tions to allude only to themselves and to Mr. With- ington as having taken up the pursuit. When they had departed on their several errands, I turned again to my friend. “I shall have to disappear before they come back,” I said. “I hope you do not mind. There is not the slightest chance of Mannering returning.” “No,” he said. Though I could not see his face in the darkness, I could tell from his tone that he was deeply moved. “I only wish there were,” he continued. “I would give a great deal to be brought face to face with the perpetrators of this bloody business.” “So would I,” I answered him. “Mannering is piling up a big score, and there is nothing would give me more satisfaction than to be the humble instrument by which it might be wiped off.” Without more words, but with just a grasp of the hand, I turned away and retraced my steps by the path along which we had descended to the bay. But my progress was very different to what it had been. Man- nering had escaped, and it seemed to me, in my de- jection, that I was not only responsible for that escape, but for the tragedy which had resulted therefrom. It is true that I had not expected him to make his ap- pearance at my home in so melodramatic a manner. Mannering Escapes the Toils 123 When I had conceived the idea of disappearing, it had been with the view that Mannering, supposing his iden- tity undiscovered, would have landed in England as an ordinary traveller, and thus sought an opportunity of revealing himself to my wife. It had only been a suggestion of Forrest's that he might make his ap- proach in the manner he had done, which had led to the provision of any attempt to provide against such an emergency. I cursed myself for having left the house unguarded as I had done. Reflection, however, showed me that it was just as well that I had been absent. Had I been at home Mannering would as- suredly have observed me, for I should, in all proba- bility, have remained in the drawing-room with my wife and Edith Withington. As things had happened, both he and his companion had fled in the firm belief that Evie was under ghostly protection, and the ex- pression on their faces showed me clearly enough that neither of them would make any attempt to molest her any further. Still, her protection had been dearly bought at the cost of the lives of the two men who lay motionless on the seashore, and the heaviness of my spirits at the thought made my progress slow. I pulled myself together before I reached the house, and made the best of a show of cheerfulness in my power as I turned across to the windows, which still remained open. But my face must, despite all my en- deavour, have revealed that things had not gone well, for, as I entered, Evie rose from a seat with a little cry. 124 The Cruise of the Conqueror “What has happened, Jim?” she asked, anxiously. Then another cry followed, and Edith Withington, her lips paling as she realized that I was alone, asked, “Where is father?” “He is all right, I am glad to say,” I answered, promptly. “I have only come home because I still wish to remain in concealment.” “And Mannering?” asked Evie, eagerly. “He has escaped us this time,” I answered, savagely, “and, in doing so, he has done for two poor fellows who intercepted him at the little bay under Bolt Head.” Softening my story as much as I could, I gave them details of all that had happened. When I had finished, Withington had arrived on the scene. He had merely waited until the captain of the coast-guard had re- lieved him from his watch before following me home. Then I turned to Evie. “Tell me,” I said, “how it was Mannering made his appearance. I shall never forgive myself for being absent.” 126 The Cruise of the Conqueror favourite little suite of Turkish songs—you know them, Jim * — she turned to me. “I know of two bright eyes,” I quoted. “That is the song,” she answered. “Well, Edith was singing to my accompaniment, and as she finished —you remember the words, “O Myrra, O Myrra, I soon will come to thee!’—a low laugh sounded right. in my ear.” “You can imagine how we just jumped,” remarked Edith, emphatically. “Neither of us screamed, though,” continued my wife. “Did we, Edith ?” “I guess we were both too scared,” was the reply. “I don’t think you are far wrong,” Evie agreed. “We certainly were horribly frightened when we saw who our visitors were. I recognized Mannering at once. He was looking straight at me with the same piercing glance which used to terrify me so greatly before I was married, but somehow, though I have far greater reason to fear him now than I ever have done in the past, yet I seemed to have lost that dread which I once had of him. I was frightened of him, of course, but it was not the same sort of feeling he used to inspire. I only feared him as I should any ordinary burglar.” “Well, I don’t know what other sort of fear you mean,” remarked Edith Withington, “but I had a fright which will be quite sufficient to last me a life- time.” “Poor Edith !” said my wife. “She really was 128 The Cruise of the Conqueror speech must have been misinterpreted by him, for he at once earnestly assured me that it was himself and not his spirit that stood before me. I submitted to believe eventually, and then I ventured to ask the cause for his intrusion. How do you think he ex- plained?” asked my wife, pausing for a moment. “I’ll be hanged if I know,” I replied. “He told me that he had heard that I was in trouble through your suicide, Jim, and assured me that in despite of the risk which he knew that he was run- ning, he could not help hastening to see me. Do you know,” she continued, “it was the flagrant hypocrisy of his words which finally destroyed all my fear for him 2 ° “You did not seem afraid when I caught sight of you,” I remarked. “No,” said Edith Withington. “To me it seemed as if Evie never felt a tremor of fear the whole time.” “I did, though,” replied my wife. “But somehow I felt a conviction that Jim would come to our aid and that our safety was in no way menaced. I began to get quite cool when he asked me to go away with him, and then I saw you standing at the window.” “That was a brilliant idea of you to make me per- sonate my own ghost,” I said. “Eh! What was that?” said Withington. “You tell Mr. Withington the rest, Jim,” said Evie; and I did as I was bidden, not forgetting to relate how his daughter had hurled the red-haired ruffian’s knife after him with such excellent aim. Afterwards I Retain My Ghostly Character 129 we each had to give a full account of our own exploits, and when the two men servants returned we had them in, in order to ascertain what had transpired on the beach. They had nothing of any importance to relate, but by the time their stories were finished there was the first flush of dawn in the sky and we all of us sought our beds, feeling pretty confident that we had no reason for fearing any further attempt from our enemy for some time at least. All the same, none of us slept much, and though neither my wife nor Miss Withington put in an ap- pearance at the breakfast-table, Mr. Withington turned up as usual at eight o'clock fuller than ever of the desire to discuss the events of the previous night. “I tell you what it is,” he declared, “I am certain I shall get no rest until that fellow Mannering is brought to book for his crimes.” “I feel still more keenly on the subject than you can do,” I replied. “His continued existence is a per- petual menace to myself, and ” I finished my sentence with a glance at the portraits of my wife and child. “Yes,” he answered. “You have more reason than I have for desiring his capture, but you must not for- get to count me in when you take up the pursuit in earnest. Between us we ought to be able to do some- thing.” “I have almost given up hoping,” I replied, some- what despondently. “Cheer up,” said my companion. “I should take 130 The Cruise of the Conqueror just the opposite view if I were you, seeing how nearly your latest trap succeeded in snaring him. At any rate, I think Mrs. Sutgrove has no reason to fear any- thing more at his hands. If he was not afraid of you in the flesh it seems as if he was very considerably averse to meet you in the spirit.” “That’s true,” I confessed. “It appears to me pretty certain that he will not come here again,” continued Withington, “so if you really do desire to come to closer quarters with the gentleman the only plan for you to pursue is to go in search of him.” Withington spoke coolly, looking down at his finger- tips. I gazed at him curiously. “What are you driv- ing at?” I asked after a little pause. The American glanced up at me, and there was a sharp, alert look in his face. “Look here,” he said, eagerly. “Let me tell you something about myself. I am one of those people who are born tired >> “Nonsense,” I interrupted. “Wait till I have finished my sentence,” he said, smiling. “I am one of those unfortunate persons who are born tired of doing the same thing twice.” “That is another story,” I said. “There are so few things for a millionaire to do and it is so easy to do them,” he continued, plaintively. “Except to make the millions,” I hazarded. “I don’t know,” he remarked thoughtfully. “The making of millions never presented any particular dif- I Retain My Ghostly Character 131 ficulties to me, and it is a habit of which one tires as easily as of any other.” “Well, there can be no difficulty about spending them,” I said. “Isn’t there?” he replied with emphasis. “To spend a million in order to get any sort of satisfaction out of the spending is one of the most difficult jobs you can set a man.” He was silent for a space before resuming. “You wonder where these confessions are leading. Do you know, Sutgrove, during the time when I ought to be asleep I am not quite sure whether I have not been envying the Motor Pirate? He is in the delightful acquiring stage of existence. He is feeling all the delights of becoming rich without any of the attendant discomforts. He has absolutely no necessity to practise hypocrisy. He is bound by no custom, has to bow to no conventions; he is a law unto himself and a terror to other men. What more can any man desire save a life which shall be brimful of new sensations?” “You are not desiring that we should become pi- rates, too?” I asked laughing. “No,” he answered quite solemnly. “There are a number of objections to that course, but I see no rea- son why we should not set seriously to work to hunt the Pirate.” “H-m,” I grunted. “I’ve been at the game be- fore.” “And therefore there is none better fitted to take this task in hand. Come,” he added persuasively; 132 The Cruise of the Conqueror “won’t you do this favour to a poor jaded million- aire?” “Haven’t you thought of the risks?” I argued. “Thought of them?” he replied. “Don’t you see that it is exactly those risks which appeal to me? It is the absence of risks which makes my life so monot- onous. Nothing can happen to a millionaire. He is hedged in by his gold from nearly all the ordinary risks to which mankind is subjected.” I laughed heartily at his tirade. “You may laugh,” he said with a gleam of amuse- ment in his eyes, “for I have perhaps exaggerated a little, but indeed there is a good deal of truth in what I say, and my reason for saying it is this. Since I cannot sate my soul with adventure by becoming a pirate on my own account, why should I not do the next best thing by undertaking a hunt for the only pirate left in this wide world?” “I’ll think it over,” I said; and we left it at that. I had plenty of time to consider the suggestion, for there was enough to do during the next two or three days to fully occupy everybody but myself. I had wired Forrest, in a cipher which had been agreed upon between us, the morning after Mannering had made his visit to Salcombe, and he had come at once to us. His arrival had resulted in an easy settlement of a number of minor details. For one thing he had seen the coroner and arranged with that worthy gentleman as to the evidence to be called at the inquest. The official found, on being acquainted with the inner facts I Retain My Ghostly Character 133 of the case, that he could manage very well to assent to my keeping my incognito, and really his speech to the jury when he excused himself for not calling Evie as a witness was a model of discretion. “I have heard,” he said, after explaining that she was too much distressed by recent experiences to make her appearance in the witness-box, “that Mrs. Sut- grove recognized, in the strange visitor who made his appearance at her house on that night, the remarkable criminal whose deeds shocked the whole of this country seven years ago. Whether that is so or not, gentle- men, matters very little in this inquiry. You have had the evidence of Mr. Withington, who was able to identify him as the man who won the Cross-Channel race a few weeks ago, and who followed him to the very spot where this crime was committed. It may be that Mrs. Sutgrove was so overwrought on this oc- casion that her identification, even had it been avail- able, would not have been absolutely reliable, and somewhat tending to this view would also be the fact of which you may have heard some rumours, that she only succeeded in putting the ruffians to flight by call- ing on her husband — the unfortunate gentleman who so mysteriously disappeared at Dover immediately after the race to which I have referred — to come to her assistance. I should not like to say that there is no possibility of this strange appeal having met with some response. There are more things, gentlemen, on earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy, but that is not the matter we are called upon to investigate.” CHAPTER XIV. IN WIHICH I START ON A CRUISE WITHIN half an hour of the receipt of Forrest's wire Withington and I had come to a momentous decision. What that decision was may be gathered from the message which we sent back to him. “Am bringing yacht round to Barcelona,” it read. “If you are com- pelled to depart before our arrival, leave written in- structions with British consul.” Yet, quickly as we had come to our decision, we were equally swift to carry it into effect. The cable- gram had been received just about ten o'clock in the morning, and before eleven we were aboard the Mascot, which was the name Withington had given his yacht, and orders had been issued to weigh anchor directly there was sufficient head of steam to get her under way. It may be thought that we acted somewhat blindly in thus responding so promptly to Forrest's request, but I knew that he would not have cabled such a message unless he had sufficient reason. Besides, I felt comfortable in my mind in regard to my dear ones since Mannering had been put to flight. Moreover, in order to set me thoroughly at ease in that respect Evie 185 136 The Cruise of the Conqueror had promised me that she would leave Salcombe and take up her residence at our place in Norfolk. She had at first begged to be allowed to accompany us on our expedition, a plea which had been echoed still more emphatically by Edith Withington. But Withington had been at one with me in refusing to entertain the idea. What we proposed to ourselves was to make some effort to bring about a final reckoning with our enemy, and if we succeeded it would not, I knew, be a scene in which women would care to be spectators, much less actors. Fortunately there was nothing to delay us. The Mascot's bunkers held sufficient coal to take us to Barcelona, and before noon we were well out in the Channel steering south-southwest and a half west with the smoke pouring from our stacks and leaving a long trail behind us. The weather was delightfully fine, ideal weather for a cruise, in fact, and everybody on board was in the highest of spirits as soon as the nature of the expedition upon which we were bound was real- ized. For Withington had not kept our intentions to himself. The moment we were clear of Salcombe, he had called the crew together, and in a very few words told them of the errand on which we were bound. “I did not trouble,” he remarked in conclusion, “to ask any of you whether you would care to engage in this enterprise. You are all American citizens, so I took it for granted that there would be no difficulty on this score. If, however, there should be any who object, I’ll land them at Barcelona and pay their passage back I Start on a Cruise 137 to the States.” Needless to say there was not a single member of the crew who expressed the slightest inten- tion of accepting the offer, and after a momentary pause Withington continued: “As no one seems in- clined to accept a free passage to New York I may as well take you all a little into my confidence.” I was standing beside him, and he laid his hand on my shoulder. “You have most of you seen this gentleman before. He looks solid enough at the moment, but I can assure you that he is none other than the ghost whose appearance scared the Pirate from Salcombe the other day. At present he has disguised himself for fear of producing a similar effect upon such of you as had seen him at Calais or Dover. But he proposes to resume his natural form for this cruise, and I wish you all to understand that if by any chance I should happen to be incapacitated, you are to obey his com- mands as implicitly as if they were my own. And now, steward, if you will bring up half a dozen of Moët we will drink to the success of the Mascot in her quest.” The speech was greeted with a hearty cheer, and I am very certain that, welcome as it was, the champagne had nothing to do with the heartiness of the applause. A finer lot of men I have never seen. Including the master, a thoroughly salted old yachtsman named Merrick, the ship's company numbered twenty, and to these were added Withington, Sanders, and myself. At least half of the crew were men who had served in the United States Navy, and to look at them was sufficient 138 The Cruise of the Conqueror assurance that the prospect of a fight was far more exhilarating than a bucket of champagne would be. The moment Withington had concluded his little speech I slipped into the cabin, and, with considerable relief, divested myself of the disguise in which the crew had hitherto beheld me. I was truly tired of the make- believe, and when I had scrubbed the paint off my face and thrown my wig through one of the ports, and the slop-suit after it, I felt, I imagine, very much as if I were a ghost returning to the occupancy of the body it had quitted. It did not take me long to slip into some clothes more in keeping with my position as deputy commander of the Mascot than those I had been wearing, and to return to the deck, where my arrival was welcomed with a general upraising of glasses and many a hearty greeting. The little break in the ship's discipline was not prolonged. At a word from Withington the steward gathered the glasses together and the men returned to their duties. Then my American friend turned to me. “I have an agreeable little surprise for you, Sutgrove,” he remarked, pointing aft, where the master was superintending some operation which, for the moment, I could not comprehend. I walked across the deck, and then it flashed upon me. “A gun l’” I cried. “Exactly,” replied Withington with a complacent air. “It is no use going in search of pirates unarmed, is it? I have two of those chaps, and with a one-inch quick-firer mounted at the fore and another aft, and a I Start on a Cruise 139 couple of Maxims amidships, we ought to make short work of the Conqueror if she should happen to come within range.” “Yes,” I said, “ though there is much of dubiety in that “if.’” “Still, there is a chance, or Forrest would never have wired for us,” he replied. “It is true that if it came to a chase he could leave us, but at the same time, he would never expect a yacht to be carrying guns, and he might find himself under fire before he realized his danger.” “I hope you are a decent shot,” I hazarded. “Never fired a gun in my life,” he answered. “But I discovered, as soon as I made inquiry, that I had a couple of good gunners aboard, so that if we do get an opportunity of a brush with Mannering we ought to be able to give a decent account of our- selves.” With this he led the way below, and over our lunch we continued to discuss our arrangements. The subject was not soon exhausted, and afterwards we found a fruitful topic of discussion in surmising the nature of the clue which had tempted Forrest to communicate with us. But surmise did not carry us any further, and we set ourselves to enjoy the voyage, conscious that every hour brought us nearer the only person who could satisfy our curiosity. Fortunately the weather remained of the most favourable character, and the Mascot was kept under full steam, until, on the morning of the fourth day, we 140 The Cruise of the Conqueror sighted the port for which we were bound, and With- ington ordered the pilot signal to be hoisted at the fore, just before we went below to breakfast. Our trip had been absolutely uneventful, save that, as we had passed Finisterre, we had seen for ourselves that the Spanish coast was being carefully patrolled by British torpedo destroyers whose only object could have been the Pirate's capture. I had hoped that they would be successful, but I do not fancy that my wishes were shared by any one else on board. The commander and the crew of the Mascot would, I believe, to a man, have resented Mannering's capture by any one but ourselves, and they kept a keen lookout for any signs of him, in spite of the improbability of the Conqueror mak- ing an appearance. For my own part I expected Forrest's clue to turn out to be something of a mare's nest, for I did not see how it would have been possible for Mannering to have taken his boat round to the Mediterranean with- out being observed, or without making further provision for a supply of petrol. I had remarked upon these doubts to Withington and he had pooh-poohed them. “You can depend upon it that your friend the detec- tive would never have brought us round here on a wild- goose chase. He is not that sort of man,” he declared emphatically. Indeed, it was soon to be proved that Withington's estimate was correct. We were still seated at the table when we heard the pilot-boat come alongside, and knowing that we had plenty of time before we could land, none of us I Start on a Cruise 141 stirred. But the next minute the saloon door was opened, and greatly to everybody’s surprise Forrest made his appearance. “Better late than never, gentlemen,” was his greeting. Withington rose at the same moment as I did, and we both shook hands heartily with our friend. “Just in time for breakfast,” said Withington as he pressed the detective into a seat, “and while the cook is brewing you some fresh coffee, you will be able to tell us whether you dropped from the sky or came aboard with the pilot.” “As you must know by this time, if you read the papers, that we at the Yard are no fliers, I think you may bet on the pilot-boat as my means of approach,” said Forrest, with a twinkle in his eye. “But before I tell you anything, I just want you to put your boat about and run straight for Palma.” “Why?” asked Withington. “There will be plenty of time to explain, and time is of consequence,” answered the detective. Withington looked troubled. “I wish I could oblige you,” he remarked, “but the fact is that the Mascot is not a big boat, nor was she coaled for a very lengthy cruise. She will be absolutely useless with empty bunkers, as you can well understand. I must coal at Barcelona before going any further.” Forrest looked horribly disappointed. “I had not thought of that,” he said, adding gloomily, “I think I will have some breakfast then.” The steward 142 The Cruise of the Conqueror entered at this moment with the coffee and our visitor straightway turned his attention to the viands with a gusto which would seem to show that he had been on short commons for a considerable period. He apologized for his appetite when he had finished. “I have been staying at a small hotel near the harbour, and thus for nearly a week I have been condemned to Spanish cookery, so you can perhaps understand that the sight of English fare overcame any remnant of delicacy which may have remained to me. Do you know that I feel as if I had been swimming in a sea of oil sustained by a life-belt composed of garlic?” “Is it as bad as that?” I asked. “Worse,” he replied, “but before I tell you of these minor experiences of mine, may I first impress upon you the necessity of making all haste to get the coal you require on board?” “Come on deck and smoke a cigar and we will see what we can do to hasten matters,” said our host as he threw open the door. We had just dropped anchor as we emerged from the saloon and at a little distance was the boat of the port authority making for us. “We had better go ashore for an hour or two,” said Withington. “Our presence will not accelerate matters and we shall all be like niggers if we stay aboard.” With a smothered sigh Forrest assented, and as the few formalities required of yachtsmen were soon complied with we embarked in the gig and were soon set ashore. I Start on a Cruise 143 I am not going to describe Barcelona, for the simple reason that during the few hours we remained there I gathered only a most general idea of the place. I know that under Forrest's guidance we went to the Fonda de las Quatro Naciones, and in a shady court- yard were served with some excellent coffee with liqueurs which were also quite excellent; and while we sipped the coffee Forrest thought fit to tell us of the circumstances which, coming to his knowledge, had led him to send the cable summoning us to the spot. “You know how I said that I had small hopes of tracking Mannering by means of ascertaining where he obtained his petrol,” he said, “but when I came to consider the matter I really could not think of any other source of information, so I at once set to work to make inquiries in London. I need not worry you with details, but at last I did glean something which aroused my suspicions. At a refinery in the East End of London I happened to hear of a large order for a specially refined motor-spirit having been given from abroad. I had no difficulty in obtaining full particulars, and the moment I heard them I guessed that I was on the right track. The order was a curious one. The spirit was to be delivered on board a specified ship then lying in the East India Dock, and it had been paid for by a draft on Messrs. Rothschilds drawn by the Bank of Spain. Here, of course, was the possibility of a connection with the Conqueror and I soon followed it up. I learned that the draft had 144 The Cruise of the Conqueror been forwarded from the Barcelona branch of the Spanish bank. Then I proceeded to make inquiries about the ship. My suspicions became much stronger when I found that I could learn practically nothing about her. She was not classed at Lloyd's, so that I guessed she must have been purchased abroad and her name changed.” “What was she called?” I asked. “The Mary,” said Forrest. “I suppose Mannering would describe himself as her little lamb. Well, I inquired at the docks, and all I learned there was that she had a very tough crew of a mixed nationality, that she sailed under the American flag, and that she had cleared for Barcelona just forty-eight hours before I arrived on the scene.” “There usually is a mixed set aboard these oil ships,” said Withington. “If he can get another berth the average seaman will not ship on them.” “Just so,” replied Forrest. “But these facts, though suspicious enough in themselves, were, after all, nothing more than suspicions. There was only one means of finding out whether there was anything in them, and I came on here.” “Well?” asked Withington and I in a breath. “Can you give me a light?” asked Forrest, as he cut the end of a fresh cigar with his pocket-knife, and we both greeted his quiet rebuke of our impatience with a peal of laughter, greatly to the surprise of the dignified waiter who was hovering behind us. 146 The Cruise of the Conqueror of our quarry. It was like this. On the third morning I met a man whom I recognized from the description supplied to me as Mannering's companion in the Cross- Channel race.” “Sanders's lop-eared blacksmith?’” I asked eagerly. “None other, I should imagine,” replied Forrest. “This looks like business,” commented Withington. “Of course I cannot swear to his identity,” continued the detective, “but I have very good reasons for supposing I am not mistaken, as you shall hear. His appearance tallies exactly with that of the midnight visitor to your place at Salcombe, and a lot of plaster strapping on his cheek is additional evidence of his being the same man. I know him to be a German because I heard him swear in that language, and I have oftentime observed that when it comes to dealing out damnation to one’s fellow creatures, men instinct- ively revert to their mother tongues.” “The proof is sufficient,” I said, laughing. “Where did you meet him?” “At the usual place for meeting long expected guests — the railway station. There was nothing dramatic about it. To pass away the time I went to witness the arrival of the Madrid express and see if I could recognize any acquaintances amongst the passengers.” “Are you quite sure that you were not inquiring about the time of departure of another train?” I asked slyly. “Quite,” he answered. “The motive which took me to the station was much more like that which Discovery Inspector Forrest Made 147 prompts the 'bus driver to spend a holiday riding on a front seat of a fellow driver’s 'bus. It shows how one’s professional instincts tend to dominate one's smallest actions. I am thankful they did dominate me in this case, for I could have jumped with delight when I saw the German alight from the train. For a moment I half expected to see Mannering follow him out of the coach, but in that hope I was disappointed. No one was there to meet him, and he obviously expected nobody. He had only a small hand-bag and directly he alighted, he walked briskly out of the station in the direction of the harbour. It was obvious to my mind that he had come to Barcelona to meet the Mary.” “And had he?” asked Withington, eagerly. “To cut the story short,” answered Forrest, “I had not long to wait for confirmation of my suspicions. While I had been at the station the Mary had entered the bay, and within an hour of the German's arrival she was dropping her anchor in the harbour. I had followed closely at his heels, but I was puzzled how to act when he hailed a boat and expressed his desire to be put aboard. In fact, until he did so, I had been uncertain as to whether the new arrival was the Mary or not. You see the ship has nothing distinctive about her appearance. She is just an ordinary tramp with a couple of funnels and a dingy red line to relieve the dingy black of her hull. When my suspect went aboard I was in a bit of a quandary as to what course I had better pursue. I knew very well that Mannering was not likely to be aboard, and after all he is the 148 The Cruise of the Conqueror man we want. It seemed to me that if any action were taken against the Mary he would only be put on his guard. Besides, I had only suspicions to work upon, and the man I had been following might have turned out to be a purely innocent German subject — there are plenty of ugly-looking, red-haired Deutschers about with big ears and square jaws — and his majesty with the mailed fist would be delighted at a chance of resenting an insult offered to any one of them.” “Particularly if the nation on whose territory the insult is offered is not in a condition to hit back,” remarked Withington. “Exactly,” agreed Forrest. “So there was nothing for it but to once more put into practice the lesson I had learned at the cathedral. I sought out one of the harbour officials whose acquaintance I had scraped by reason of a slight knowledge of English that he possessed, and persuaded him to make some inquiries about the new arrival at the port. What he gathered gave me a certain amount of satisfaction. The Mary, according to the account given by her master, had put into Barcelona for repairs to her boilers, which had developed some defects, and the completion of these repairs was estimated to require three days, if not four. The moment I heard this fact I went to the telegraph office and wired for you.” “It was real kind of you, sir,” said Withington so heartily that Forrest smiled. “I am glad you feel like that,” he said, “though I do wish you could have managed to have brought your Discovery Inspector Forrest Made 149 yacht round some twenty-four hours earlier. Now that the Mary has had such a start there is sure to be some difficulty about finding her again.” “It is annoying,” I said, “though I suppose you managed to hear something about her destination while she was here?” “It was announced that she was bound for Algiers,” said Forrest, “but I have my reasons for doubting the information. Unfortunately, there was almost man-o'- war discipline kept on board the Mary, and even when the men did come ashore they were so tight-lipped a set that they might almost have been trained at the Yard. They cost me a small fortune in drinks,” he continued mournfully, “and I could not get a scrap of useful information from any one of them.” “That’s unfortunate,” remarked Withington. “It will be no joke to hunt for a tramp steamer in the Mediterranean.” “I did not say I had been entirely unsuccessful,” said Forrest. “I dropped in at a shop one day when the red-haired German was purchasing a chart of the Balearic group.” Withington rose from his seat and extended his hand to the detective. “Sir,” he said solemnly, “let me take this earliest opportunity of expressing to you my high appreciation of your painstaking methods.” Forrest looked both puzzled and surprised as he shook hands with the millionaire. “I don’t quite see that I have done you a personal favour,” he remarked. “Indeed, to me it seems that I am in your debt.” Discovery Inspector Forrest Made 151 He was right. Suddenly we found ourselves in an open court flooded with sunlight glancing amongst the palms and orange-trees and reflected from the foun- tains, while under the shade of the arcades of the clois- ters picturesque beggars drowsed away their time. We did not linger here, however, but passed into the cathe- dral, and I realized at once the effect which Forrest had declared had been produced upon him. The change from the brilliant light was exquisitely poignant. The soft cool gloom enwrapped one with a delicious sense of restfulness. Then as the eyes became accustomed to the change there gradually emerged a knowledge that the darkness was only relative, that it was made up of a wealth of colour in which the dominant notes came from the richly tinted glass of the windows cast- ing rich splashes of colour on pavement and altar. There were no guides, no sacristan, nobody, in fact, to worry, and we drank in the restfulness of the place to our hearts' content. I think that we forgot even Mannering, and it was not until we emerged into the open air that I glanced at my watch and discovered that the ten minutes we had promised ourselves had been trebled at the very least. This being the case, we made no other attempt to see any more sights, but returned directly to the harbour, and to the surprise of the whole party no sooner did the Mascot come into view than we observed that the last lighter had just sheered off from her side, and the black cloud pouring from her smoke-stacks assured us that Withington's instructions for steam to 152 The Cruise of the Conqueror be got up at the earliest possible moment were being obeyed to the letter. “Your confounded old cathedral,” said Withington to Forrest, “has wasted us at least five minutes.” If such was the case, there was no time lost after- wards, for the moment we got aboard the master ap- proached Withington. “The anchor's apeak, sir; shall I weigh?” he asked, and before Withington had time to reply the whistle shrilled, and was followed by the rattle of the windlass as the cable came home. “What course, sir?” was the next question. Withington looked at me, then he looked at Forrest. “I’m hanged if I know,” he remarked. “There’s a cable to Palma, I know,” remarked the detective, “and I should hardly think that our friends are likely to be too near the end of a telegraph wire. Why not try Minorca first? We might pick up some intelligence at Port Mahon. I am not quite certain whether there is telegraphic communication there with the main land, and it is a smaller place.” “Port Mahon be it, then,” said the American, and, turning to the master of the Mascot, he gave him a brief sketch of the information with which Forrest had furnished us. The worthy mariner rubbed his hands with delight at the story. “The only thing which trou- bled me in this little adventure,” he averred, “was the unfortunate fact that there were only two pirates. Now, I guess that instead of only two there ought to be enough of 'em to put up a real fight for the Mascot's Discovery Inspector Forrest Made 153 men. Not enough to tire 'em, but sufficient to make them feel that they will have an interest in the result.” “I don’t think you have guessed very far wrong,” replied Forrest, “for, from my own observation, I should think that the Mary could not have less than thirty men on board. I watched her very carefully, and though while she was here there were never more than two or three to be seen on her deck at one time, yet, by counting the faces of the men who came ashore, I think my estimate is not far short of the mark.” The information soon spread through the ship, and when, after lunch, we returned on deck, the alertness of the crew showed how delighted they felt at a possible encounter. The Mascot was moving as fast as her engineers could force her along, and soon the grim fortress of Monjuich was veiled in a purple haze as we steamed merrily onwards upon a sparkling sea, typical of the Mediterranean in its gayest mood. So the afternoon wore away. We had sighted a couple of fishing-boats before we were clear of the bay, and an hour later a single funnelled steamship passed us on a course down the coast. The sun got lower on the horizon, and already the sky was flushing deeply when Withington proposed that we should spend the hour before dinner in looking over the charts to see where Mannering might be expected to have selected a place of security for his boat. We had just got the maps spread out on the table of the saloon when the mate popped his head in at the door. 154. The Cruise of the Conqueror “There’s a vessel ahead which we cannot quite make out. She's flying the signal of distress,” he remarked. As one man we made our way to the deck. “Where is she?” asked Withington as he stepped on to the bridge. “Two points on the starboard bow,” replied the mate. Forrest, Sanders, and myself hastened forward and gazed eagerly in the direction indicated. Already we had drawn near enough to the stranger to be able to make out the flag and ball hoisted at her fore without the aid of a glass. We were rising her rapidly, and in a few more minutes we were able to distinguish her hull, outlined blackly against the crimson flush on the horizon, and to see that a faint drift of smoke was curling from her stacks. Presently Withington descended from the bridge and joined us forward. “What do you make of her?” I asked. “I cannot make out what is wrong,” he replied. “There is absolutely no sign of any damage, yet neither I nor either of my two officers can perceive any one on her deck.” “That is certainly curious,” I remarked. “Some- body must have hoisted that signal.” “We shall soon know the reason, anyhow,” said Forrest with a shrug of his shoulders. “Perhaps,” said Sanders. CHAPTER XVI. IN WEIICH WE ARE CONFRONTED WITH A MYSTERY OF THE SEA SwſFTLY as we drew near the stranger, the oncoming dusk was still more speedy in its approach and pre- vented us observing anything clearly. Our answering signals had produced no response, and as we closed we could see that her head pointed now this way and now that under the opposing influences of wind and tide. “Something very queer must have happened to that craft,” said Withington. “Signals of distress flying, steam in her boilers, and no one at the helm; I don’t understand it.” Nor did any of the rest of us, and we waited eagerly for the moment when we should come within hail. By the time we were near enough to do so it was blind man's holiday. Our lights had been trimmed, but no attempt had been made by the stranger to show any, and with the exception of the stokers every man was on deck as we ran alongside. “What ship is that, and what do you need?” boomed out the voice of the master through his megaphone as with reduced speed we crept up to her quarter to windward. 155 156 The Cruise of the Conqueror Every ear was strained to catch the answer, but none was forthcoming. “Strange! Strangel” repeated Withington as we slowly slid past. “We shall board her and see what is the matter, I suppose?” I asked. “Certainly,” replied the American, and turning to the master I noticed that there was a note of excite- ment in his voice as he said, “Call away the long-boat's crew, Mr. Merrick, and serve out arms to the men.” “Arms?” I asked in surprise. “You surely don’t apprehend any danger?” “Our friend is in these seas, and I have no inten- tion of falling into a trap,” replied the millionaire quietly as he stepped into the cabin, to reappear a moment later with a serviceable revolver strapped to his wrist and a keen-edged machete tucked under his arin. Hastening to follow his example, we found on our return to the deck that the boat was already manned, and we tumbled speedily into our places. “Keep her under your guns, Merrick,” said With- ington, and the next moment the oars took the water together and we darted off towards the mysterious stranger. No one spoke a word as we sped towards the silent ship. There was something eerie about the spectacle of this well-found vessel drifting aimlessly on the sea, and every man of us, I fancy, must have anticipated that we were on the point of being brought face to Confronted with a Mystery 157 face with some catastrophe. As we approached, the sense of impending tragedy deepened, for no face ap- peared to gaze at us over the side and no voice hailed us to ask our business. Glancing upwards we could see that the boats hung on the davits and yet at the same time we perceived that the ladder was down. The only explanation that occurred to me was that the crew had been taken off by some other ship, and yet even if such had been the case the reason for the desertion seemed to me to be inexplicable. When within a chain’s length Withington hailed her again, but his voice was thrown back at him from the empty deck without any response save the sobbing of the wind and the lapping of the waves against the hull of the derelict. “Give way, my lads,” said Withington, and with a couple of strokes we swept alongside, and as the men shipped their oars and seized their weapons our skipper stepped lightly up the ladder. I managed to be next out of the boat, and the others swarmed after us on to the deck. But our arrival there made no difference. The silence was still unbroken. “I don’t like it, Sutgrove,” said my friend as we paused until the boat's crew had joined us. So far as we could see in the gloom there was not a soul on deck, and bidding his men follow, Withing- ton stepped towards the companion with the intention of going below. He had not taken more than a couple of paces when, as the ship gave a little roll, to my sur- prise he slipped and fell heavily. Confronted with a Mystery 159 were no signs of any victims until we made our way forward. And there we came upon a man whom we thought to be the sole survivor. A man, I have writ- ten, but it was not so, only the clay was left. A young French sailor of twenty or thereabouts lay on the deck with his face upturned to the sky. The signal hal- yard was tightly grasped in his hand, and it would seem that his last act had been to hoist the signal which had attracted our attention. At first we thought that he might be still alive, and placing the light beside him. Withington knelt down and placed his hand upon his heart. “Dead,” he muttered softly and rose again to his feet. “It is curious,” he continued, “that his clothes are soaking wet. I could almost imagine that he must have been overboard.” Forrest took the light and rapidly examined the body. He soon discovered the cause of death. A long clean cut had nearly severed his left arm from the shoulder. An effort had been made to bind the wound, but the bandage had come loose. “What do you make of it all, Forrest?” I asked as the detective rose to his feet. He did not answer directly, but when he spoke it was with certainty. “This man was cut down from be- hind,” he said, “and almost immediately was thrown into the sea. The sudden immersion and the chill of the water stanched the flow of blood to some degree, and I fancy the poor fellow must have managed to bind up the wound roughly while still in the water. After- 160 The Cruise of the Conqueror wards he managed to find his way on board again. But the effort was probably too much for him, the bandage he had applied must have worked loose. He just had strength to hoist the signal and then he fell.” “I should not wonder if you have indeed hit on the truth,” remarked Withington, “but suppose instead of theorizing on the subject we see if there is any one below who can give us a solution of the mystery.” He led the way to the companion and stepped below without hesitation. He paused at the foot of the steps until Forrest and I had joined him at the door of the saloon before turning the handle and en- tering. Directly I was below a very familiar odour greeted me. “Hullo! Petrol,” I said. What followed was so instantaneous that I hardly know how to describe it. Withington turned the han- dle of the door to enter, at the same time holding the lamp low down before him to see if there was a step to be negotiated. Then a blue flame seemed to shoot from the lamp, to be followed immediately by a blind- ing sheet of light and an explosion which hurled us all of a heap from the door. Almost suffocated with petrol fumes I struggled to my feet and made for the companion I had just descended. Withington and Forrest were before me. I saw them dash past the saloon door — saw them distinctly—for the dark cabin was now a raging furnace with a volume of flame roaring from the open door as if it were a vent of hell Confronted with a Mystery 161 itself. One glance was enough. Shutting my mouth and eyes I made a dash at the hatchway and never opened either until I felt a grip on my collar and a pair of sturdy arms swung me up on deck while many friendly hands beat out the flames which flickered about my clothing. “It’s lucky for you that petrol burns outwards in- stead of in,” remarked Sanders. “Are the others all right?” I gasped. “Barring the fact that I am nearly scorched to a cinder, I think I can describe myself as all right,” said Withington with a drawl, “and so far as I can discover by his language Forrest seems to have just emerged unhurt from his native place of residence.” I passed my hands across my eyes and my eyelashes rubbed off grittily. “It was a near thing,” I said with a laugh which had a touch of hysteria about it. “Near do you call it?” said Forrest. “I feel as if I had made an ineffectual attempt to explore the lower regions.” “Rejected of hell,” suggested Withington. The ex- perience seemed indeed to have toned the American up to a degree unusual with him, and he was quite gay. “The whole place must have been soaking with pe- trol, and the moment the light came near the vapour ignition was inevitable. I suppose we want no better proof that Mannering and his confederates have passed this way?” I said, turning to Withington. 162 The Cruise of the Conqueror “Well, I will stay here and discuss the point if you prefer to do so,” replied Withington, “though for my own part I think the deck of the Mascot will prob- ably prove to be a more convenient place.” Indeed it was time to be moving. The flames were rising in a huge pillar from the hatch through which we had escaped, and at the same time there was an- other muffled explosion from below deck, and smoke began to arise from the forecastle hatch. “The fire has found its way forrard,” said Withing- ton, “it is no use waiting to be cut off.” The crew went quietly over the side, but the rest of us paused a minute before joining them in the boat. There was no lack of light now. The flames, bursting out of the two hatches, burned like huge torches, and by their light we could gather some idea of the nature of the conflict which had been waged on the deck of the doomed vessel. There was blood everywhere, blood which had been spilt so recently that it had not yet had time to dry. Where I stood at the head of the ladder there was the impress of a big hand clearly marked on the rail. Forrest's eye rested on it at the same moment as mine, just as he was stepping on to the first rung of the ladder, and he paused and looked at it earnestly. “Want to add some more finger-prints to your col- lection?” said Withington. “That is a souvenir of this night's adventure which I should appreciate,” answered the detective. “Right,” said Withington, “you shall have it,” and Confronted with a Mystery 163 calling to one of the men in the boat to hand him up a cutlass he set to work to hack at the timber. “I think you had better let me have a shot at it,” said the detective, and Withington handed over the weapon to him and watched while he cut a line with the point of it about the mark and then carved out the marked section. Carrying his treasure carefully in his hand, Forrest embarked, and Withington and I following him, we shoved off at once upon our return to the Mascot. By the time we reached the deck of the yacht the doomed vessel presented a magnificent spectacle, as, blazing furiously from stem to stern, she drifted with the tide. But she did not continue to drift for long. Instead a strange thing happened. As the fire ate its way into the heart of the ship she began to move to the impulse of her screw. “Good heavens,” ejaculated Withington, “the fire is heating her boilers.” “That would not set her engines working,” remarked Sanders. “If ye ask me for an explanation I should say that the devil himself must be aboard yon boat.” “ Unless you presume that the devil or devils who made that fire-trap adjusted the engines so that they should start of themselves when there was a sufficient head of steam in the boilers,” suggested our skipper. Sanders was still skeptical, but he could think of no other explanation, and soon the stranger was moving at a speed which necessitated our coaling furiously in order to keep up with her. But not for long did we 164 The Cruise of the Conqueror follow her course. Soon her iron plates above the water-line began to glow with the intense heat, and we could even hear the hiss of the waves as they broke on her sides and were dissipated in clouds of steam. While we thus watched her progress the end was at hand. There was a heavy explosion, a great flash of light from the uprushing flames, a fountain of burning fragments tossed in the face of the sky, and then dark- ness and silence. CHAPTER XVII. WE MEET THE MARY WHEN the last of the burning embers had been quenched in the waters, Forrest was the first of our party to bestir himself. “I think I will go below and wash some of the black off my face,” he said with a yawn. “By the time we have all followed your example,” remarked Withington, “I fancy we shall be ready for dinner. Anyhow, we have certainly earned it. Put the Mascot on her course again, Mr. Merrick, and see that a couple of the smartest hands are on the look- out. Those who were responsible for that bit of work would not hesitate about serving us the same if they were to get the chance.” “Aye, aye, sir,” replied the master, adding softly as if to himself, “There's nothing I should like better than that they should make the attempt.” His tone conveyed such a cheery self-confidence that my nerves, which had been a little shaken by the events of the preceding couple of hours, seemed to recover their balance almost instantaneously, and I went be- low quite cheerfully. An hour later we gathered round the table in the 165 166 The Cruise of the Conqueror cosy little saloon of the Mascot with appetites which had suffered not a whit through the postponement of the evening meal. None of us were accustomed to take long over our toilets, but on this occasion the process was a lengthy one. It was rather a painful one, too. In the excitement I had not noticed the effects of the fiery ordeal through which I had passed, but when I tried to remove from my face the traces of the adventure, I found that my skin had become most uncommonly tender, though it was only actually blistered in one or two places. However, with much gentle sponging I managed to make myself to some extent presentable, though, as I had lost my eyebrows and eyelashes and had liberally anointed my face with vaseline, I presented a much sunnier countenance than usual when I made my appearance. Neither Forrest nor Withington were in any better plight. The latter, indeed, had a greater loss to lament than either of us. The long fair moustache which he had been wont to caress eternally had vanished, leaving him with only a short, bristly covering to his upper lip, which he had been compelled to brush up in the orthodox tooth- brush fashion. There was only one subject in our minds, but we tabooed discussion upon it until we had finished dinner, and it was not until the coffee was served that we broached the topic of the derelict. Then Withington introduced it abruptly. “That job was not the work of one man or two,” he de- clared. We Meet the Mary 167 “No,” agreed Forrest. “It was clear that there had been a fight and a stiff one.” “That means that Mannering has enlisted a band of confederates,” I remarked. “So much the worse for him,” said Forrest. “It is the criminal who works alone who escapes. There's no safety in numbers so far as they are concerned. In fact I am so sure that Mannering would realize that such is the case that I am almost doubtful as to whether he can have been engaged in any way in this outrage.” “But who else would dare in these days to commit such a crime?” I asked. “Now, do you think that Mannering would have left a job in so unfinished a condition?” he replied. “Incomplete?” I queried in some surprise. “Yes, incomplete,” he repeated. “That ship was deserted in a sudden panic, for the ruffians who took the petrol on board left in such a hurry that they had no time even to fire the ship they had prepared for destruction.” “That certainly does not seem to be characteristic of Mannering's work,” I agreed. “Again,” continued Forrest, “though Mannering has shown himself to be ruthless as to the suffering he inflicts in pursuit of any end he has in view, he has never yet shown any predilection for indulgence in mere insensate slaughter.” “True,” I answered. “What, then, is your theory?” “I am most likely wrong,” said the detective, “but 168 The Cruise of the Conqueror I should think the business was brought about some- what in this way. Mannering has confederates, it is clear, and it seems pretty certain that those confederates shipped aboard the Mary in order to take a supply of petrol to some prearranged spot. Now, knowing that the Conqueror and her owner were in the vicinity, what is more likely than that the crew of the Mary thought they would do a little piracy on their own account, since they would be pretty certain that the loss of the ship would be attributed to their chief? It is obvious that it was only by accident that we were enabled to discover as much as we did, for the petrol could not have been intended to be left to a mere chance ignition.” - While Forrest had been propounding his theory I had been racking my mind to try and remember where I had heard the name of the derelict previously. At the time I noticed the name Eulalie painted on one of the boats it had seemed familiar, and now it suddenly dawned upon me that I had seen a reference to it in some newspaper or other only a day or two before we had left Salcombe for Barcelona. “There is one thing against your theory,” I said quietly. “Let’s hear it,” said Withington. “I suppose you know all about the Eulalie?” I asked. “No,” replied our host, “I noticed the name, but it conveyed nothing to me.” “Nor to me,” said Forrest. We Meet the Mary 169 “The Eulalie is the name of a steam-yacht of five hundred tons, owned by the Prince of Monaco, and used by that enthusiastic scientific notability when engaged in his favourite occupation of grubbing up mud from the bottom of the ocean.” “By Jove!” said Forrest. “As you say, that sim- ple fact does to some extent dispose of my theory.” “I don’t see why,” declared Withington. “Alive the Prince of Monaco would be a realizable asset,” I explained. “Dead he would be valueless. But if, as I think was the case, the Prince had been on board that yacht and Mannering had no accommo- dation for keeping more than one or two prisoners, there would be a very sufficient reason why both the ship and her crew should cease to exist.” “He must be a veritable devil,” said Withington. “Another reason has also occurred to me,” I con- tinued. “He is quite capable of having ordered the massacre of the Eulalie's crew merely because they were in the way, but his action may also have been dictated by motives of policy.” “I don’t quite follow you,” said our host. “Taking it for granted that the Mary is acting as a store-ship, it is pretty certain,” I said, “that Manner- ing would be more or less at the mercy of her crew. I have no doubt that he pays them handsomely, but at the same time he must know that if it were worth their while they would probably have no hesitation about betraying him. What, therefore, would be more natural than for him to make them join him in some 170 The Cruise of the Conqueror act of piracy which would effectually close their mouths, since then if anything came out, their necks would be as likely to be encircled by the noose as his own?” “That's a very pretty theory, too,” remarked our host. “You mean to say it is only a theory,” I said. “Exactly,” he answered, “and all the theories in the world won’t enable us to catch the pirates. Would it help us if we were to learn whether the Prince of Monaco really was on the Eulalie?” “I think it might,” I replied after some considera- tion. “We know where the Eulalie was attacked, and it is safe to suppose that if the Prince is a prisoner he would be conveyed to some spot on land or detained in the cabin of the Mary. Mannering could certainly not carry him about in the Conqueror. If he is on land he is probably on some remote part of the Balear- ics. If on board the Mary he is not out of reach, and, in either case, where he is we shall be certain of find- ing Mannering.” “Then I think that Palma and not Port Mahon should be our next port. A cable to Monaco would soon settle the matter,” Withington said, and the sug- gestion commended itself to all of us. Soon after we had arrived at this decision we all turned in, for we were tired out with the events of the day, and I, for one, slept soundly until dawn. When I awakened I knew at once that we were at anchor, for the engines were still and the ship was as steady as a lighthouse. I tumbled out of my bunk and made my We Meet the Mary 171 way on deck in my pajamas with the intention of hav- ing a dip in the sea if the opportunity offered. When I reached the deck my eyes gazed on as enchanting a view as any one could desire to see. The rays of the rising sun rested on the old Moorish buildings of the capital of Majorca, on the pinnacled towers and fly- ing arches of its great Gothic cathedral, on its num- berless windmills and its palms, while in the far dis- tance towered the blue and purple peaks of a range of mountains. The air was soft, the sea dead calm, and without a moment’s hesitation I threw off my night attire and took a header from the side. I do not think I ever enjoyed a morning dip more, and for half an hour I played about in the water before clambering on board again quite ready for the cup of coffee which the steward brought me while I dried myself on deck in the sun. While I was engaged in this occupation Withington made his appearance and began to upbraid me for al- lowing him to waste time in sleep, while he prepared to follow my example. He was soon in the water and I leaned on the side pelting him with bits of biscuit and smoking a cigarette. When I tired of this interesting occupation I began to look once more at the shore, and to scan the other ships which lay on anchor. There was only one of any size, a two-funnelled steamer. My glance passed over her. Only a measly old tramp, I said to myself. Then I looked at her again. There was a red band round her sides. That surely could not be the Mary? We Meet the Mary 173 In response to our summons Sanders came up from below rubbing his eyes, but his drowsiness vanished immediately he heard what we desired of him. He was not long in making up his mind. One glance was sufficient. “That's the close-lipped, lop-eared chap who was aboard the Conqueror. I weuld swear to him any- where,” he asserted emphatically. By this time Withington had come aboard and was instantly acquainted with the discovery. His look of amazement showed that the information had taken away his usual sang-froid. “Impossible,” he said. “There are three of us prepared to swear to him,” remarked Forrest. “Then let us be after him at once,” said our host eagerly. “Would it not be more decent,” observed Sanders dryly, “if ye and Mr. Sutgrove were to put on a wee bit more clothing, or are ye thinkin’ that ye are more awesome-like wifoot?” “There's no hurry,” remarked Forrest calmly. “By all appearance her fires are banked up and she is in no hurry to be gone. We shall have plenty of time to decide on what course to pursue.” Then he turned to me. “What about our theories now, Sutgrove? Do you think Mannering and the Prince of Monaco are aboard that craft?” I knew not what to think, nor did any of my friends, though we discussed the matter from every point of view over the breakfast-table. In fact we were so un- CHAPTER XVIII. wRICH TELLs of A PIRATE's CAPACITY FOR LIQUOR THE astonishment with which I viewed what ap- peared to me as the establishment of friendly relations with the Mary was not shared by Forrest. The detec- tive, indeed, at once fathomed the meaning of With- ington's action. “Now that is what I call a real smart idea on the part of our friend,” he said. “Not content with pay- ing a visit of investigation to the Mary, he has managed to bring off one of her company for us to pump at leisure.” He was not far wrong in his surmise, as we soon discovered. On landing Withington at once introduced the stranger as Captain Looker. “Finding a fellow countryman on board,” he continued, with just a shake of the eyelid which with him did duty for a wink, “I could not resist the temptation of bringing him ashore to wet the acquaintance.” He turned to Looker. “You will find my friends here, Mr. Grove and Mr. Brown, quite ready to join us, I am sure.” “Americans?” asked the captain. “No? Well, I find Britishers good shipmates most-ly. I guess I kin drink with them an' smoke with them an’ fight with 176 A Pirate's Capacity for Liquor 177 them with equal pleasure, which is more than I kin say of the bulk of the inhabitants of the cities this side of the water.” “Well, we will soon get about the drinking and the smoking,” I replied with a laugh as we turned towards the town, “and I dare say if you desired a fight we might manage to oblige you.” “Now that’s what I call real friendly,” he said, “ and the first call shall be mine as soon as we reach the hotel. But I must ask you to excuse me for one minute while I find the telegraph office. I reckon I should never have come into this port if I hadn’t been compelled to do so by my instructions. I was told that I could pick up some freight just here, but last night when I came ashore to inquire, I found that a low-down Italian hadn’t left a box or a bale on the quays. I just wired to Port Mahon to ask if they are in the same case before going round. I may as well save myself the trouble of paying port dues for the fun of the thing.” Forrest and I glanced at each other, but we said nothing and Captain Looker chattered away until we reached the telegraph office. There he stopped at the door and remarked, “Now don’t let me de-tain you gentlemen. I guess I shall find the answer waiting for me.” We waited outside and saw an envelope handed to him, saw him tear it open and read the flimsy paper enclosed within. “I must get hold of that wire,” remarked Forrest. 178 The Cruise of the Conqueror Captain Looker laid it down on a ledge, selected a cigar from his case and, carefully clipping the end with his knife, put it in the corner of his mouth. Then striking a match he lit the cigar. But the weed drew badly, and as the match burnt down to his fingers he dropped it on the corner of the telegraph form and Forrest's desire vanished into air. “He’s done you, old fellow,” said Withington. “Not yet,” replied Forrest. “Take no notice if I drop behind,” he added hastily as Mr. Looker came out of the door and joined us. “Now I am just pining for that drink,” said the master of the Mary, and without more ado we turned away in the direction of the hotel. At the first corner Forrest stopped to tie his shoe- lace and we had reached the hotel door before Looker remarked upon his absence. “Say,” he observed, “you don’t tell me your friend is a prohibition man? I guessed he was coming along with us right now.” “You may be assured he will find his way here be- fore very long,” I remarked, “I have never yet heard him say no to good liquor.” The captain of the Mary, for the first time since we had met him, seemed a trifle uneasy, and I saw his hand move instinctively to his jacket-pocket. But his face cleared when Forrest made his appearance round the corner of the street from which we had just emerged, and he followed me into the hotel with an amount of cool assurance which quite convinced me A Pirate's Capacity for Liquor 179 that he was satisfied that he had nothing to fear from us. Naturally we fostered this confidence by every means in our power, and the swapping of yarns and jokes made the time fly so rapidly that it was quite natural that we should determine to stay where we were for lunch. Looker was nothing loth to join us, and when the meal was over, suggested another drink before return- ing to our respective boats. Evidently his idea of wet- ting an acquaintanceship came perilously near what I should call drowning it, for declaring that he had had enough of the wholesome wine of the country which had been flowing freely from the first, he ordered a bottle of brandy and ladled out a liberal supply of the spirit to each of us, nor would he hear of any excuses. I do not know how Withington felt after a couple of drinks, but already my head was beginning to go round, and although I did my utmost to keep control of my faculties, it was not long before I began to see two captains and found it more than a little difficult to distinguish which was the real one. When, therefore, he filled my glass a third time I feigned to be further advanced than I was in reality, and, sprawling over the table, upset my glass and, letting my head fall on my arms, pretended to sleep. A little later Withington followed my example, but Forrest did not give in, and sat drinking fairly and squarely with Looker. It was marvellous to me how the detective managed to survive, for I think the cap- 180 The Cruise of the Conqueror tain of the Mary was one of the steadiest drinkers I have ever met, and I knew Forrest to be one of the most abstemious of men. But that both of them were in full possession of their faculties I was certain. Forrest was attempting to pump his man in the most insidious style, and the Yankee never by a single an- swer revealed anything which could be regarded as information. It must have been two hours after I had given up that at last the captain of the Mary rose from his chair and expressed his intention of returning to his ship. “It has been a pleasant afternoon, sir,” he said to Forrest. “I always knew Britishers could drink, but I’ve not met one who could take his poison like you do for a long while. I hope we shall meet again.” “I most heartily echo that wish,” said Forrest as he, too, rose. Then he caught me by the shoulder, and gave me a rousing shake. “Come, wake up, Grove, it is time to be moving. Wake up, and say adieu to the old man of the Mary.” With what I venture to think was a well-simulated stagger I rose to my feet and feigned ignorance of where I was. Forrest explained again, at the same time apologizing for my incapacity to take full advantage of such an opportunity of being sociable. He went through the same farce with Withington, and the four of us sallied out into the street. I had found the heat oppressive even in the shade of the hotel, but when we came into the glare of the A Pirate's Capacity for Liquor 181 afternoon sun I hardly knew how to bear it. But Forrest and Looker seemed to be quite impervious to the sun; they stepped out briskly in front, leaving Withington and myself to bring up the rear, which we did arm in arm with just sufficient roll in our gait to keep up the illusion of inebriety. I am not quite sure, though, when I come to think over the matter, that the roll was entirely assumed. At all events it would have taken very little to have made it inevitable. So we came to the quay, where the gig awaited us, and where, too, a boat was awaiting the master of the Mary, and with many verbose farewells we at last em- barked in our respective boats and were pulled off to our ships. I shall never forget the warmth of that afternoon, and it was a real effort to restrain myself from jump- ing overboard into the sea just as I was. Withington seemed to be in much the same plight, and the per- spiration was pouring down Forrest's ruddy face in streams. There was not a breath of air moving. “Storm before long,” said Forrest as we pushed off from the quay. His voice seemed to remind Withington of some- thing we had all apparently forgotten. “What about the answer to your wire?” he asked. “Hush!” said Forrest in a quiet voice. “Sound is carried a long way over the water on a still day like this, and our friend there has sharp ears. Curb your impatience until we get aboard. I have a lot to tell you.” 182 The Cruise of the Conqueror Once aboard I persuaded him to postpone the tell- ing until I had soaked my head for ten minutes in the coolest water I could get, and when I did seek him in the saloon it was with a wet towel swathed round my head. He laughed when he saw me enter. “It is all very well for you to indulge your merri- ment at my expense,” I said, “but if to-morrow morn- ing you haven’t a head as bad as mine, may I never catch our friend Mannering.” “You won’t, then, if you depend upon that,” he replied. “How you ever managed to last out the sitting,” I remarked, “is a mystery to me. If I had not called a bye you would have had to send one of the gig's crew up to the hotel for me with a wheelbarrow.” “It’s easy enough when you know the way,” he said, “ though the remedy is not a particularly pleasant one. Whenever I left you for a minute or two I made use of the poor man's emetic, and as I always followed the treatment by imbibing a quart or so of water, the only result has been a sort of internal lavage with a weak solution of alcohol.” “I wish to goodness I had thought of some such plan,” said I heartfully. “But our friend the captain must have had a head of iron.” “He was probably playing the same game as my- self,” replied Forrest. “He was as anxious to make us drunk as I was anxious to put him under the table.” “Why, do you think he has any suspicion of us?” I asked. “He can never have seen any of us before.” A Pirate's Capacity for Liquor 183 “When a man is engaged in the sort of game that he is playing he suspects everybody,” answered the de- tective. “Then you are sure that he is acting with Manner- ing?” I questioned eagerly just as Withington joined us in the saloon. “Certain,” he replied. “You have found out something?” said our host. “I was beginning to think that we had done the Mary an injustice, after all.” “Not much of an injustice,” was the dry answer. “Look at that.” Forrest held out to us a telegraph form upon which was written, “Rendezvous as in- structed Wednesday night. Juan.” “Well?” I asked. “That is the copy of the wire which Captain Looker told us he was expecting from Port Mahon in reply to an inquiry as to whether there would be any possi- bility of his obtaining freight for the Mary.” “Then Mannering is at Mahon?” cried Withing- ton. “That cablegram was handed in at Nice on Tuesday night,” replied the detective. Both Withington and I expressed our inability to elucidate the puzzle. “Too much brandy in our heads, I suppose,” said my friend. “Perhaps this will make things clearer,” said For- rest, handing us a second telegraph form. This one had been addressed to Forrest, and lean- ing over Withington's shoulder I read as follows: — 184 The Cruise of the Conqueror “Letter delivered here yesterday stating Prince in hands of Motor Pirate. Boat left this morning with ransom under guidance of messenger. Communication was in Prince's handwriting and gave twelve hours for decision. In case of any harm happening to messenger or any attempt being made to send a war-ship Prince's life was to be forfeit.” “It is quite easy to see what has happened,” con- tinued Forrest when we had digested this amazing piece of news. “Mannering must have attacked the Eulalie sometime yesterday morning, probably managing to get on board by some trick or other, a trick, by the way, in which it is certain that the Mary must have played a part. Then as soon as the yacht was in his possession and the Prince in his power, he must have put his prisoner on board the Conqueror and departed with him. That, as you will see, gives him plenty of time to arrange to exchange the Prince for his weight in gold and to wire to Looker to meet him according to some prearranged plan.” “Then,” said Withington, “if we want to meet Mannering all we have to do is to be careful not to lose sight of the Mary?” “Precisely,” was Forrest's answer. “Are you cer- tain that the Mascot is capable of keeping her under observation? Otherwise it might be as well that we should make some effort to get the port authorities here to detain her.” “Quite certain,” said Withington cheerily. “These tramps never do more than twelve knots at the outside, A Pirate's Capacity for Liquor 185 and at a pinch I think we could push the Mascot along at seventeen.” “That’s decided, then,” said Forrest, and we went on deck. There seemed to be no movement on board the Mary. Some of her men were lazily lying on the deck, and the barest suspicion of smoke was issuing from her stacks. “She doesn’t look as if she was going to keep an appointment very far away,” I could not help remark- ing. The master heard what I said and paused beside me. “For all she looks so still,” he said, “I’ll guarantee she has a good head of steam in her boilers. They must have been feeding the fires as delicately as if they were babies, and though they thought we should not notice it, I think we shall be ready to slip out of harbour at the same moment as they do.” “That won’t be till after dark,” said Forrest. There was nothing for it but to exercise patience. CHAPTER XIX. SHOWS HOW THE CONQUEROR JUSTIFIED HER NAME IN our impatience it seemed as if the night would never come. Even when the dusk grew upon the face of the waters the Mary still lay placidly at her anchor- age and her lights were hung out as if she intended to remain there until the morning at least. Meanwhile with the darkness there had come no mitigation of the heat. Instead it seemed almost to have increased. Nearly the whole of the crew were on deck gasping for air and whistling for the breeze which should bring relief. Dinner was postponed by mutual consent, and in- stead we took it in turns to visit the bathroom, where we managed to get a certain temporary relief. Towards midnight a subtle change took place in the weather. A light mist came rolling in from the sea. We could still distinguish the lights on the Mary, but the master began to look troubled, and consulted with Withington as to whether it would not be advisable to drop a boat to hang on the tramp's quarter in case she should take advantage of any temporary thicken- ing to elude us. In fact Withington had just assented to the adop- 186 The Conqueror Justifies Her Name 187 tion of some such course when a thick veil of fog cut her off from our view completely. “The devil’s own luck,” grumbled the American. “If we send a boat's crew away now they would never be able to pick us up again.” “Hark!” said the master. We all listened, but we could hear nothing. “I could have sworn I heard the rattle of a chain, and that could only mean that he is getting in his anchor. There again!” This time we hard the rattle of iron on wood. “We will follow his example,” said Withington. “Pass the word to get the hawser in softly. There's no need to let the fellow know that we have tumbled to his game.” Meanwhile it seemed to me that the mist had thinned, but looking in the direction of the Mary there was no sign of her lights, and I judged I had been mistaken; but a remark of the seaman beside me put me right. “That fellow took advantage of his opportunity and doused his lights,” he muttered. “He can see us all right, knowing very well that it is impossible for us to make him out.” Noiselessly our cable came home and we still listened for any further sound which should tell us that the Mary was on the move. It came at last — a light throbbing on the night air that seemed miles away. “We will give her five minutes,” said the master coolly. “There's no use inviting a collision, and she 188 The Cruise of the Conqueror will have to feel her way out with the lead, so we shall not be far behind.” “But,” objected Withington, “once outside we are bound to lose her.” “Maybe we shall find it’s clearer outside,” remarked the master. “Anyway, I’m of opinion this fog will not be lasting very long, and there will be light enough for anything before the night is much older.” “Have your own way,” said the American, “there cannot be much less light, anyway.” He was right. The night had grown as dark as Erebus. There was no moon, the stars were covered with a thick mantle of cloud, and through the darkness came and went the sound of the Mary's screw in the perplexing manner in which sound is always conveyed in a fog. Gradually the sound died away in the dis- tance, and with the engines running at half-speed we set forth on our quest. The master may have had a pretty clear idea of our whereabouts, but I am quite certain that I would never have ventured to sea on such a night, motor pirate or no motor pirate. Fortunately, there was no shipping in the bay, with the exception of the Mary and our- selves, and rather than lose her we should have been quite content to have come into collision with her. Half an hour passed and the master gave the order to stop the engines, and the Mascot lay at rest in the impenetrable darkness while her crew strained their ears for any sound which should warn us of the prox- 190 The Cruise of the Conqueror “Two points on the port bow and apparently under full steam,” was the answer, and immediately the mas- ter rang for full speed ahead. For some little while we had no difficulty in making out the Mary, for once the lightning had broken loose, ten seconds did not elapse between the flashes, while sometimes the flicker of light was almost continuous for a minute at a time. At these moments the Mary could be seen as clearly as if it had been day. It was also evident that the Mascot had been seen and recog- nized, for the smoke was pouring out of the tramp's stacks, and she was making a big wake as she sped through the calm, oily sea. “I did not think she could do more than twelve,” muttered Withington after he had watched her care- fully for some minutes, “but she is holding her own and we are making a good sixteen.” A moment later he was speaking down the tube to the engineer, and bidding him do everything he knew to increase the speed. But in spite of all efforts, the distance between the Mary and the Mascot did not decrease. I even fancied that, if anything, the tramp was managing to forge ahead slightly, though in the uncertain sort of light it was difficult to judge with any degree of accuracy. I have often thought of that night's experience since, and though there were more thrilling events to follow, yet the pursuit. of the Mary while the curious storm was breaking about us left an ineradicable impression on my mind. The sea was calm as a pond. The thun- The Conqueror Justifies Her Name 191 der was not at all loud, more like a sullen grumbling of the elements than anything else, yet the lightning was as brilliant as any I had ever seen. It was an uncanny sort of storm. But it was not to endure for ever, and when the change came it was not to our ad- vantage in the pursuit. Rain began to fall, a dense tropical downpour, and the lightning ceasing, the Mary was once more cut off from our sight. Merrick had taken particular notice of the course she was steering, however, and the Mascot was kept on the same course at the top of her speed until the master thought we might be getting into the track of ships bound for Marseilles. Then recognizing the futility of pursuing a phantom ship in black darkness, Withing- ton reluctantly gave the order for half-speed ahead and directed the lights to be swung again. “It is not the slightest use blundering on to no- where,” he said to us. “If Mannering intends to re- main in these waters he is certain to have some port of call, and I can think of no more suitable spot than the Islands. The chances of picking him up there- abouts are infinitely greater than at sea. Besides, after he has met the Mary and renewed his supply of petrol he will hardly remain in the Mediterranean. All the fleets of all the Powers will be out after him, and un- less he has some place to lie up even his wonderful turn of speed will not save him from capture or de- struction.” “What do you propose, then?” asked Forrest. 192 The Cruise of the Conqueror “To put about and make our way leisurely towards Minorca. He is much more likely to find some sort of harbourage for a craft like the Conqueror there, or on the coast of one of the smaller islands, than on Majorca.” By this time the rain had ceased, and a pleasant cool breeze following on the storm made us all remember that we had entirely forgotten to dine. “If we cannot find the Motor Pirate there is no need for us to fast,” said Withington, and he turned towards the companion hatch. But even as he did so there came a cry forward of “Boat ahead, sir.” With one accord we rushed to the side, and there flashed by us to starboard, leaving as big a wake behind her as the Mascot herself, a boat which could be none other than that for which we were on the lookout. It was really only by the foam that we could distinquish her, yet there was no doubt in any of our minds as to her identity, and we were soon to have rather more proof than we wanted that we had found the object for which we were looking. At the warning cry the men on deck had rushed to the stations allotted to them, and in another moment the rest of the crew came tumbling up from below. Before they had reached their stations, however, there came a slight whistling in the air, something dropped on the deck amidships. There was an explosion, a blinding flash of blue light, and where the starboard Maxim and the two men who were to serve the gun had been, there was nothing. It all happened in an The Conqueror Justifies Her Name 193 instant, but — it is one of the most ghastly recollec- tions any man can ever wish to be relieved from — in the brief glare I distinguished the dismembered head of one of the sailors fly past me, and I instinctively ducked to avoid it. “Out with all lights,” shouted Withington, who had sprung to the bridge to take over command from the master. Swiftly the lights were taken inboard, and ringing down to the engine-room for full speed ahead, Withington gave the order to port the helm. His prompt action had the desired result. The next of the deadly shells plumped into the water a few yards astern as we swept round to starboard in the direction of our unseen enemy. “If we only had a searchlight,” said the American as he peered into the darkness, “we might stand a chance of doing something, but at present I’m afraid our enemy has the advantage of us.” For a minute there was silence, then once again one of the deadly shells struck the Mascot, this time tearing through her side and wrecking the saloon. “Damnation,” said Withington. “With that pneu- matic gun of his there is not even a flash or a report to guide us. I shall have to try a star shell, for other- wise he will sink us without our having fired a shot in return.” The order was given, and with the bursting of the shell we at last gained a view of our adversary. The illumination revealed more than we had anticipated. The Conqueror was not more than seven or eight cables' The Conqueror Justifies Her Name 195 ton grimly, and he passed the order forward to direct a couple of shots at the Mary. And now we did obtain some result. Both shells took effect and the tramp staggered and fell away from her course, while we could see that there was considerable confusion on her decks. “Smashed her rudder to splinters,” commented For- rest, who had stood beside me hitherto without saying a word. “It is to be hoped that yon steamer is the Mary, or otherwise we may be incurring the fate which I had hoped to reserve for Mannering.” “Not much doubt of that,” I answered. “See, the Conqueror is coming out of his retirement. Manner- ing intends to draw our fire upon himself.” Once again darkness fell on the water, but another floating magnesium star was speedily requisitioned to give us light to fight by. But brief as the battle had been, it was not to endure much longer. As if to prove that hitherto he had only been playing with us, Mannering directed upon us a stream of shells, which in less than a minute put an end to the Mascot's fighting powers. One bursting in the engine-room lost us control of the ship by smash- ing the steam steering gear to smithereens. Another dismounted the gun at the fore and smashed the breech, and to cap all, while Withington was ordering the re- maining gun to be brought forward, the master came to him and reported that the good old yacht had had a hole knocked in her side big enough for the gig to pass through, and that she could not float for another minute. 196 The Cruise of the Conqueror There was only one thing to be done and Withington did it. “All hands to the boats,” he shouted, “ and don’t forget your arms.” CHAPTER XX. IN WEIICH THE MARY MEETS WITH POETIC JUSTICE I HAVE a very confused idea of what happened during the next few minutes. No more of the magnesium shells had been sent aloft, and I was only conscious of the dark figures brushing past me in the darkness, while the hiss of escaping steam from below made so much racket that my ear could hardly take in the or- ders which Withington issued continuously. But ulti- mately I found myself in a boat and pushing off from the side of the Mascot. Suddenly a rocket soared from the deck of the Mary. The Pirate had followed our example and sought to throw some light on what was occurring on the dark Sea. I was on the first boat to get away from the sinking yacht, and it struck me as curious that Forrest, seated in the stern-sheets beside me, was selecting a cigar from his case as if he were about to set off on a pleasure excursion. The next thing I observed was that the Mascot was obviously settling down by the head, which was no longer pointing in the direction of the Con- queror and the Mary, both of which now lay rocking lightly on the waters. The long-boat lay alongside the 197 198 The Cruise of the Conqueror Mascot, and Withington was just coming over the side. He paused a moment, and to my surprise, in obedience to some order, a couple of the crew, who had already taken their place at the thwarts, scrambled on board again and ran nimbly aft. To me it seemed the sheer- est folly to lose a single moment, but Withington fol- lowed the men across the deck as coolly as if there were not the slightest chance of the ship sinking beneath him. His object speedily revealed itself. The break- ing away of the Mascot from her course had made it possible to bring the aft gun to bear, and it was to make one last attempt at revenging himself on our adversary that caused Withington to risk the danger of being dragged down with the sinking yacht. Without any waste of time the gun was laid and barked out a last message of defiance. Of course the Conqueror escaped. The luck which had followed Man- nering in every encounter I had ever had with him, remained with him now. But the Mary was not so fortunate. One of our shells hulled her amidships and must have burst among her inflammable cargo. So great seemed Withington's danger that at last I could contain myself no longer, and I shouted aloud to him to hasten his departure from the Mascot. He had timed himself with some degree of accuracy, however, leaving at least twenty seconds in which to get aboard his boat and clear the side of the yacht. It was only when he was clear that the effect of those last few shots became visible. The first warning that anything was occurring came in the sound of a series The Mary Meets with Justice 199 of faint explosions borne down the wind from the di- rection in which the Mary lay. Then the darkness was illumined by a faint light which increased with mar- vellous rapidity. I had been amazed at the speed with which the Eulalie had taken fire, but the fate of the Eulalie was nothing to that which now overtook the Mary. From stem to stern she suddenly burst into flame which roared up above her trucks. Her crew could be seen scurrying like frightened rabbits across her deck and hacking away at the tackle of the boats. If they had been instrumental in the destruction of the Eulalie, a speedy and terrible retribution had come upon them. Explosion followed explosion continuously as the drums of spirit in the hold burst with the heat. The deck was ripped open, and it seemed as if the only means by which the crew could escape was by throwing themselves into the water. Many of them took the plunge. But even in the sea they were not safe. As we gazed there was an explosion more violent than any which had preceded it, and in a second the sea all around the doomed ship was turned into a lake of fire. The blazing petrol was hurled far and wide, and the flames apparently spouted from the surface of the water, so that the unfortunate seamen who had plunged for protection into the waves were lapped in the burning flood. Only one boat had got clear of the ship, and even that was overwhelmed in the common destruction. The shrieks of the unfortunate men reached our ears, and with one accord the Mascot's 200 The Cruise of the Conqueror boats darted away to relieve those who had escaped such a terrible fate. They might have been pirates, but flesh and blood could not look upon such a scene and not make some attempt to relieve the victims. Meanwhile, we could not but observe that the man whose mission it ought to have been to do his utmost for his confederates seemed to be far more solicitous for his own welfare. At the first outbreak the Con- queror had moved away from the close vicinity of the burning ship, and throughout the terrible ten minutes which succeeded, she remained motionless a couple of cables' length from the scene of the tragedy. The callousness of the pirate commander won many a deep curse from our men as they strained every nerve and sinew to get near enough to render assist- ance. The boat in which I and Forrest had escaped was both the nearest to the Mary and the lightest, and we were, therefore, well in advance of the others in the race to bring aid to the sufferers. I was urging all our fellows to do their utmost, though heaven knows there was no need to do so, when I heard Forrest's voice in my ear. “I hope that brute will remain where he is for another couple of minutes, and he will come within range of my revolver, for there is plenty of light now.” Turning my head I looked at the detective’s face. It was set and stern, and he was fingering the stock of his weapon almost lovingly. The Mary Meets with Justice 201 “Get your pistol ready,” he continued. “If my bullets miss, one of yours might find its billet. That infernal scoundrel's luck cannot last for ever.” But whether it was luck or design, Mannering was not on this occasion going to afford us a mark for our pistols. As we approached, we saw him lay his hand on a lever, and the Conqueror began to move away from the scene of the tragedy. I was so maddened at the sight that I rose to my feet and shook my re- volver furiously in the direction of the retreating motor-boat. My action evidently attracted the atten- tion of one of the two occupants, for the Conqueror came to a stop, and it seemed that he was taking stock of us through a glass. Then, laying down the glass, he lifted a megaphone from the well and placed it to his mouth. The Conqueror, as I have already explained, was to windward, so that, in spite of the intervening distance, his words came clearly to our ears. “So we meet again, Sutgrove,” he shouted. “I might have known that it could have been only to you that I owed this pursuit. I am going to let you live this time, though you and every man with you are at my mercy. I am going to let you live — to — suffer.” The mocking intonation of his voice was apparent as he continued: “You know something of the Conqueror's speed. Don’t you think you had better hurry home? Mrs. Sutgrove will not find the spirit of her dear departed so close at hand to protect her as she did on the last occasion when I paid her a 202 The Cruise of the Conqueror visit. If you delay your progress too long you may find that your pretty Evie has decided to cast in her lot with the Motor Pirate after all.” I know it was futile of me to rage, but I could not help hurling at him curses which, if they had had any real effect, would have sufficed to sink his boat without more ado. But with a final mocking adieu he once more touched the lever and the Conqueror darted off, and before we had reached the burning ship even the white track of the boat had vanished. During this brief encounter of words our men had not ceased to pull their hardest. But it seemed as if their efforts were to be fruitless, for although we got near enough to the floating furnace to feel the heat strong upon our cheeks, yet there seemed to be no living soul either upon her or in the water about her. One or two dead bodies we overhauled. They did not appear to be burned, and I fancy that Forrest's theory that they must have been suffocated by the petrol vapour which had so unexpectedly overwhelmed them was the most likely explanation of their death. We had circled the ship twice, and, giving up hope of rescuing any of the Mary's crew, were about to join Withington and the long-boat, when I caught sight of another floating body, and we rowed towards it, though without much expectation that it was more likely to contain life than any of the others we had picked up, only to cast adrift again. This time, however, Forrest thought he detected some signs of life about the man, The Mary Meets with Justice 203 and with some difficulty we managed to haul him on board the boat. “He is alive, and that is just about as much as can be said for him,” declared Forrest, as he busied himself in an effort to restore the man to conscious- Iless. While so employed the long-boat and the gig had joined us, and Withington called a consultation as to the course we had better steer. “I guess that is pretty near settled for us, without any trouble, by the wind,” declared the master, who was in charge of the gig. “There's a fair breeze from the north already, and by daybreak I shouldn’t be surprised at getting a capful more.” I had hoped that we might have been able to make the Spanish coast or pick up some ship which would take us into Marseilles where I could get back as rapidly as train could take me to England, for Man- nering's parting words filled me with apprehension; but it was pretty obvious that such a course was im- possible. Our three light boats would never be able to beat up against the wind, and the outcome of our discussion was that we should run as fast as we could for the Balearic Islands, where we could at least cable for assistance, and transmit a warning to my dear ones as to the danger which threatened them. We had also our wounded to consider, and the desirability of get- ting them under proper surgical care at the earliest possible moment was another element in guiding us to a decision. 204 The Cruise of the Conqueror While we discussed the matter the Mary had con- tinued to blaze, and we remained in her vicinity in case the glare should attract the attention of some passing ship and thus relieve us from the necessity of a cruise in the open boats. But when the end came, and the last embers of the tramp were quenched in the waves, we set our heads southwest by south and steered for Minorca, just as the first signs of dawn appeared in the east. It was a dull dawn, and the duller for all of us by the knowledge that we had been hopelessly defeated by our puny antagonist. All we had to show for our exertion was one man who lay at the bottom of our boat, breathing heavily, but giving no other signs of life. On the other hand, we had lost eight of the men of the Mascot killed, while four others were more or less dangerously wounded, we had lost our yacht, and our enemy had sailed away triumphantly upon a new career of mischief. The morning passed away with nothing to relieve the monotony until our unconscious prisoner at last showed signs of a return to consciousness under For- rest's unremitting exertions. The detective, indeed, looked quite triumphant as he rubbed his hands and remarked, “This chap will live to be hanged after all.” Once restored to consciousness the progress of the rescued man to complete recovery was rapid, and it was not long before he was able to sit up and gaze stupidly about him. When the use of his tongue was restored to him, I was hardly surprised to hear that The Mary Meets with Justice 205 his first words were charged with bitter abuse of the commander of the Conqueror. There is no need to repeat what he said of Mannering, for the nature of his remarks may be gathered from the fact that, having been one of the first to spring overboard from the Mary, he had swum as far as the motor-boat, asking to be taken on board, and had been driven away at the mouth of the revolver. Then, swimming back to the boat which had been launched, he had been caught only in the outskirts of the rain of fire which had proved fatal to all but he, and in his terror he had swum away again, until, seeing the approach of the Mascot's boats, he had made various attempts to attract our attention and was at his last gasp when we had at length sighted him. Seeing the mood he was in, Forrest at once made an effort to extract from him some particulars of what the Mary had done, and he had, as it happened, very little difficulty in learning all that the man knew. Glad we were later that we had picked him up, for from no other source could we have learned anything of what proved to be most valuable information. The first item of interest was the fact that it was on the Minorcan coast that Mannering had found a suitable harbourage for the Conqueror. But perhaps it will be as well if I give his story in full. It was not a long one. The Mary, it seems, had left London and made no call anywhere until she had put into Barcelona. Thrice, however, on her voyage she had been hove to, while 206 The Cruise of the Conqueror portions of her cargo were taken from the hold, placed on board a boat, and taken ashore. The first of these stoppages was in the neighbourhood of Finisterre, the second was off a small island on the southern coast of Portugal, while the third was at one of the Balearic group, which we had no difficulty in recognizing as Minorca. At each stoppage Mannering had himself been present, but none of the crew had accompanied the boat which had taken the petrol ashore. Manner- ing, on board the Conqueror, would make his appear- ance at the appointed place. The petrol would be transshipped to one of the Mary's boats, which would disappear in tow of the motor-boat. It was after the third of these unladings that the Mary put into Barce- lona. There had been nothing the matter with her boilers, and the only object had been to pick up the German engineer. It was in consequence of the in- formation which this person brought with him that Mannering had for the first time come aboard the Mary, and had made a proposition to the crew at which they had jumped. It was this proposition which had led to the destruction of the Eulalie, and the man's story was so illuminating that I give it in his own words. 208 The Cruise of the Conqueror anythin’ excitin's goin’ ter 'appen. An’ I’eard some- thin’ as fair took away my breath. Straight! “The bloke, 'im of the motor-boat, ee did the talkin’ as if ee were the howner of orl the hearth instead of the Mary. “I jest got a few words ter say ter yer,” ee says 'aughty like, ‘which if yer likes some dollars in yer pockets fer a bit of a cruise ashore when this trip is over, yer won’t be sorry ter 'ear, ee says, an’ we chips in with ‘’ear, 'ear.’ “Cap'n Looker 'as told yer as I ham the howner o’ the Mary, ee went hon, “but that probably don’t convey much to yer. I’m a-goin’ ter tell yer somethin’ else about meself,” ee says, an’ ee swells 'isself out as if ee was a peacock. “I’m the Pirate what yer may 'ave 'eard tell of. The Motor Pirate 'isself an’ don’t yer ferget it, ee says, which I won’t ter my dying day, blast ’im. But as I was tellin' yer, ee torks fer a bit about oo ee was an’ then he comes ter business. “I’ve got a little job on 'and, ee remarks, “as might turn out ter be profitable ter orl of us. I’ve 'eard tell that there’s a bloke a-cruisin’ hin these waters as 'as got more of the needful than ee knows what ter do with, an’ I see no reason, ee says, “why we shouldn’t touch 'im fer a bit. I suspecks yer 'ave orl 'eard tell er Monty Carlo,” which I’ave, likewise the man as broke the bank; “and this 'ere chap is the howner of that little shop. What I propose is, ee says, “is ter relieve that gent of some of 'is ill-gotten gains.” “Well, when I 'ears that I were hon it, an’ so were orl the rest er the boys. I ain’t much of a pirate me- We Arrive at Port Mahon 209 self. Fact is, I’m a stoker by trade, but bein’ out er a job 'cos the Union chucked me for joinin’ as a free labourer when they struck the gas works down ter Becton, I’d signed on fer this trip as the pay hoffered were good. Then ee goes on talkin'. Minded me er the Socialist chaps as spouts outside the pubs afore they open on Sundays, ee did. Made me fair feel as if I were doin' a public dooty in 'elpin’ ter git me 'ands round some of the ready, not ter say the good time what I looked to when we got back ter the old pals in East ’Am. So ee makes it orl right with us and we were orl sent below not knowin’ what we’ve got ter do, though presently the mate ee comes round an’ 'ands out revolvers an’ knives case any of us might get ’urt, ee says, which we 'avein’’ad a fair Saturday night ration er Irish served out ter us were quite ready ter take our chances of, an’ we makes for the deck an’ stows ourselves away in the boats and under the sides. Our engines were goin’ dead slow, an’ presently I seen one o’ the chaps a-pullin' up little flags an’ haulin’ of 'em down again, an’ Spotty Mivins, ee tells me as they were a-signallin' fer them ter send a boat aboard as we was all 'ands sick an’ wanted 'elp. I tell yer if I was a seafarin’ man I wouldn’t 'a' been took in so easy, but they was fair 'ad first time. I couldn’t see anythin', but presently I’ears the old man 'ailin' 'em, an’ after a bit I pipes a boat come along- side, an’ presently one pops 'is 'ead over the side an’ then another, an’so on till 'arf a dozen of ’em is on the Mary's deck. Then the Motor Pirate ee steps forrard 210 The Cruise of the Conqueror an’ pullin' orf is cap mighty polite, ee says ter the first one, “Hexcuse me, yer 'Ighness, ee says, “but I must jest trouble yer to take a little cruise with me.” I don’t know whether ee understood, but ee began ter jabber in some foreign language, and the boss he jabbered back so’s I couldn’t make 'ead nor tail of it. Then ee starts ter go back ter 'is boat, but our chaps was 'andy, an’ being taught the way by the old man oo landed one of the chaps as come on board over the 'ead with a belaying-pin an’ downed 'im, they was all laid out as reg’lar as nine-pins. Then with a little per- suasion with 'is revolver the boss persuaded 'is prisoner to go aboard the boat which was round on the other side from the one ee 'ad come aboard on. “I leave the yacht ter you, ee says to our old man, “an’ the less that is left of it the better fer orl yer necks,” an’ with that ee goes off.” “Well?” I asked, when the man made a pause at this point. “That were orl,” he answered. “All!” I said, with surprise. “Orl as I seen with my own eyes,” he replied. “The old man an’ I could see as there was a bit of a shindy when they got aboard, but I 'ad nothin’ ter do With it.” “But what about the men who were on the deck of the Mary?” I queried. “Some of our chaps must 'ave 'it a bit 'ard,” said the man, reluctantly, “an’ for fear lest they should come to they dropped 'em overboard d’rectly the old We Arrive at Port Mahon 211 man came aboard, which we did in a bit of a ’urry 'avein’ caught sight of a smoke on the 'orizon an’ not wishin’ to be caught 'angin’ about just there.” “He must have seen us, though we never sighted him,” I said to Forrest, who nodded his head in re- sponse. We questioned the man pretty closely, but for some time we could get very little more out of him. He stuck strenuously to the story that he had remained on board the Mary while the massacre of the Eulalie's crew had taken place. But an idea occurred to For- rest, which, when translated into action, soon made him alter his tone. Taking a pocketbook from his pocket he extracted from between the pages a piece of carbon paper and a sheet of clean white paper. “I want you to lay your hand on this,” he remarked quietly to the man. “No yer don’t, guvnor,” was the instantaneous reply. “None of yer finger-print business for me.” “So you have had your marks taken before,” said the detective with a quiet smile. “I thought you had been his Majesty's guest at some time or another.” The man shuffled uneasily while he replied, “I dunno what yer gettin' at.” “I’ll soon show you,” replied Forrest. “Hold him firmly for a minute,” he continued, and while I and one of the Mascot's men prevented him struggling the detective secured a print of the man’s right hand. Then taking from a little bundle of personal belong- ings, which wrapped in a handkerchief he had placed We Arrive at Port Mahon 213 in peace, merely sending him forward into the bow with one of the Mascot's men to watch over him lest he should take it into his head to make an attempt to cheat the gallows. We soon ceased to trouble ourselves with any such eventuality, however, for as the morning wore away the capful of wind which Merrick had promised us would follow the thunder-storm had increased to such a degree that Forrest and I began to be concerned more with our own safety than that of our prisoner's. Not that there was anything of a gale blowing, but there was enough breeze to raise a nasty sea for small open boats trying to run before the wind. Fortunately both the long-boat and the gig were provided with short poles and a working lug, and so long as we could carry sail there was no danger of the waves overrunning us. What worried us was the fear lest the freshening of the wind should make it imperative for us to put about and ride head on to the seas until the breeze moder- ated. That would have meant a waste of time which I at least could not face with any prospect of com- posure. Hour after hour passed and still found us running free without sighting anything to break the monotony of the horizon, and I began to think that we must have miscalculated our position, and, having passed Minorca, were heading straight for the African coast. Nor was this fear dispelled until late in the after- noon there loomed, cloudlike on the horizon, the blurred outline of Mount Toro. I could have shouted with 214 The Cruise of the Conqueror delight when I recognized that outline, and so, too, could have the rest of our little party, for in the hurry of our embarkation we had provided ourselves with nothing but a little water, and the tightening of our belts was, after all, a poor alternative to a good square meal. After this I need hardly say that there was no question about our making land as quickly as we could. The couple of reefs we had taken in for the sake of safety were shaken out, and with the sail taut as a drum skin and threatening every moment to pull the mast out of the boat, we raced away towards the line of breakers which soon became visible as we neared land. In this part of our adventure some of Mannering's luck must have been transferred to us, for it certainly was not through any other cause, unless one has to credit Providence with direct interposition in mortal affairs, that without having to alter our course by so much as half a point we found a little inlet dead ahead of us, in which, within an hour of our sighting the coast, we had safely beached the boat without accident. Even then our plight was not a happy one. We were on land, it is true, but, so far as we could see, its hospitality was not apparent, for there was no sort of dwelling-place within view, and the chief produc- tions of the soil seemed to be stones and sand. Still, I guessed from the lie of the land and the line of the coast that within an hour or two we ought to get to Port Mahon, so I managed to talk cheerfully to the We Arrive at Port Mahon 215 men, who at first were not disposed to speak in very complimentary terms of the welcome which the island held for them. Affecting a confidence which I can now admit was mostly assumption, I told them of the warm welcome which shipwrecked mariners invariably re- ceived from the Minorquins, and professed my ability to lead them blindfold to a spot where there would be ample provision for all their necessities. They were anxious to set out at once, but I was more than a little anxious as to the fate of the long-boat, upon which Withington, Sanders, and the remainder of the crew of the Mascot were embarked. Being so much lighter and carrying proportionately more sail, we had lost sight of them for some time before we had sighted land, and I feared lest they should miss the spot which had provided us with a landing-place and be compelled to run for miles down the coast. So with the ineffective solace of a drink of water I sent a couple of the crew to climb the cliffs while the rest of us gathered together some driftwood and hacked down a bundle of dried-up heath and tamarisk to make a smoke signal should they come within our range of vision. And here again we were singularly favoured by fortune. When, indeed, we had nearly given up hope of them, and I had al- most decided to give the word for our departure, our lookout descried them bearing up for the land, and before long we were all engaged in giving a hand to get the wounded ashore and rigging up stretchers upon which to carry them to the habitations of men. I should think it was just about four in the after. 216 The Cruise of the Conqueror noon when we left the coast and set out in the direction in which we guessed Port Mahon to lie. I do not want ever to make that march again. The heat of the after- noon sun reflected from the sand and rock was some- thing terrific. The road, or rather the way we took, was, after a long climb upwards, a succession of as- cents and descents with stones of all sorts and sizes strewn everywhere, some so large that we had to walk round them, others so small that we did not know of their existence until we stumbled over them. Our progress was so slow, having seven wounded men to carry, that it was dark before we hit upon a track at all. But once having done so we managed to make a little better progress, though even then the night was well advanced when we at last came within sight of the lights of a town which I knew could be none other than Port Mahon. By this time we were ready to drop with fatigue, and when we had discovered the hospital, interviewed the authorities, and safely disposed our wounded men therein, we were all at the last stage of exhaustion. By this time, too, the night was so advanced that, even if we had desired it, there would have been no small difficulty in obtaining the food which we had looked forward to so eagerly when we had started upon our march. All we wanted now was rest and sleep. This Withington managed to secure for everybody by dividing the party between the Fonda del Vapore and the Bustamente, though the resources of these two inns were strained to the utmost to provide the necessary We Arrive at Port Mahon 217 accommodation. We just had a long drink of wine to wash down the accompanying ensiamada and then we turned in. There would be plenty of time to mature our plans regarding the pursuit of Mannering and the Conqueror on the morrow. Of the Use of a Watch 219 attempts to raise a few hundred pesetas to enable us to wire to London were quite fruitless. We tried the bank; we appealed to the British consul; we made the most urgent representations to the officials who had taken up the greater part of the morning in obtaining from us full particulars as to how it was we had ar- rived upon their shores in such a plight, but without the least result. None of them saw the slightest reason for hurrying. When the weekly steamer arrived they would all write to some official or other at Barcelona, and in due course we should be enabled to leave. In imagination we saw ourselves kicking our heels about the streets of Port Mahon for a month at least, while Mannering would be able to continue his nefarious work unchecked so far as we were concerned. I knew, too, now he had realized that I was no ghost, that the sooner I found my way back to England the better it would be for my own peace of mind. Mannering was not the man to jib at any risk, however hazardous, and from the time I knew that I had been recognized, the old fear for Evie's safety had come back to me. This recognition, I had learned from our prisoner, had not been made in the first place by Mannering. It had been due to the observation of his German companion when the Mary and the Mascot had both been lying in Palma Bay. I had never thought that I was in danger of identification on that occasion, but when I did learn it I soon perceived that the knowledge that I was on his track explained a great deal of the events which had happened, amongst others proving that our encounter 220 The Cruise of the Conqueror with the Conqueror and the Mary had been no chance meeting as most of us had imagined. Accordingly, I was particularly anxious to get away, and when we had, as I thought, exhausted every source of raising money to pay our passage, I was mad enough to have suggested an attempt to gain possession of the steamer when it arrived, and to compel the captain to take us straight over to Barcelona by force if he would not listen to reason. - We had all gathered together for the discussion of our difficulties when I made the proposal, and Withing- ton jumped at it. Then Forrest, smiling quietly, re- marked, “Don’t you think you could raise enough to send a wire on the security of your watch?” It just shows how the man who has never been faced with the necessity of raising cash to meet the eventu- alities of the moment may be handicapped by his igno- rance, for neither Withington nor I had even thought of this simplest of ways out of our difficulty. Without more ado we sought out a jeweller, who, on the security of Withington's watch and my own, made no difficulty about advancing us enough cash for our purpose, and as soon as we handled it we went straight to the tele- graph office and sent a wire to Withington’s London agent, instructing him to arrange for an immediate payment to us of a sufficient sum to enable us to buy up the island itself if we thought necessary. I was in some doubt, in view of the largeness of the sum Withington mentioned, whether the agent would not think that an attempt was being made to deplete 222 The Cruise of the Conqueror might not prove an additional incentive to him. I added to my message a request that my wife should meet me at our English port of arrival, for I intended to consult her desires before going any further with the chase. Forrest had the next turn at the telegraph office, and utilized it by sending a précis of the information which had come into our possession concerning the landing of petrol. Withington had sought to persuade him to keep the information to ourselves in the fear that it would enable some smart lieutenant in charge of a destroyer to forestall us in the capture of the Pirate, but the detective would not listen to the sug- gestion. “We have had one taste of his quality,” he said. “Let some one else have a chance. I should not be surprised if he does not escape capture for quite long enough a time to give us another opportunity of seeing what we can do.” This latter declaration rather cheered my American friend. He had developed, indeed, as a consequence of our cruise, a determination to see the business through himself. He seemed to think that not only his personal honour but the credit of his nation as well was involved in the capture of the Pirate, and nothing we could say would alter his view. Shortly after we had despatched the messages the Mahon S. S. Company’s packet put in an appearance at the mouth of the harbour, and Withington, hiring a boat, at once went aboard. The substantial argu- ments at his command worked wonders. They were Of the Use of a Watch 223 sufficient to prevail even over the national desire to procrastinate which afflicted the captain, and the crew were aroused to really wonderful activity. The dozen passengers were landed and the cargo broken up and got ashore so rapidly, that by the time we had settled our hotel bills and drawn the balance to Withington's credit at the bank, the steamer was sounding her siren as a warning that she was ready to start. We did not delay, for I think that every man amongst us was as eager as myself to bid adieu to the Minorquins and their beautiful islands. I do not suppose that ever before had any one of the Mahon S. S. Company’s boats made so speedy a passage as on this occasion, though if the crew had been left to themselves I doubt whether they would have done so well. But Sanders went below and with him the chief engineer and a couple of the men of the Mascot, and between them they coaxed the rackety old engines into an exhibition of quality which absolutely startled the captain and enabled us to do the trip in a bare twelve hours. Before leaving Port Mahon Withington had wired instructions to Barcelona for a special train to be in waiting, for we had calculated that with luck we might manage to intercept the P. and 0 express from Mar- seilles at Lyons. So we wasted no time at Barcelona, but directly we were put ashore we hurried to the railway station, and the moment we had taken our seats were whirled away into the night. We did not wait even for a meal, though the scanty fare which 224 The Cruise of the Conqueror alone had been obtainable upon the boat had been too vile to tempt our appetites. Our only desire was to get to our journey's end in order to make a fresh start in the pursuit. Indeed, by this time Mannering had become an obsession with all of us. In our waking moments we discussed nothing but plans for his cap- ture, and I learned from my companions that they, like myself, only fell asleep to dream of him again. We had been careful to bring our prisoner with us, and we examined and cross-examined him continually in the hope of getting further scraps of useful informa- tion. We were peculiarly keen for information in regard to the spots where the debarkation of the petrol had taken place, and as to the first of these, he was fortunately able to supply us with fairly definite par- ticulars. He gave us the time the Mary had passed the Nore lightship, and the time when she was hove to in order to drop the first consignment of her cargo, so that we could calculate approximately the distance she had traversed by what we already knew of her knottage. Further, he had observed the direction of a light, which, from his description, we had no diffi- culty in recognizing as the Finisterre beacon. Putting all the facts together, it seemed to us that the search for the Pirate's lair narrowed itself down to an ex- amination of a dozen miles of coast, and that sooner or later we could not help discovering it. Our hopes grew higher when we found that we had managed to catch the express at Lyons, though we only ran in a minute or two before its arrival. 226 The Cruise of the Conqueror guard who helped him on as we moved off would, I am sure, have refused to do so if he had not been dazzled by the sight of the five-franc piece which the American held between his forefinger and thumb. I do not know what the rest of the passengers must have thought of our party. With nearly a week's growth of beard sprouting on our chins, with dirty linen, torn clothing, and many of us sporting bandages over slight injuries sustained from splinters, we must have appeared to be a disreputable band of adven- turers. I should not have been surprised had the authorities taken it into their heads to detain us for inquiries, but gold is a wonderful passport, and there was no fear of Withington's supply of the commodity giving out. We were well up to time at Boulogne, and once em- barked on the boat I breathed a sigh of relief. Our journey from Barcelona had cut the record, and I judged that it would be impossible for Mannering to have carried out his declared intention of preced- ing me. Nevertheless I spent the hour of crossing in pacing the deck and watching for the appearance of the Folkestone lights as if by that means I could hasten our progress, and when we came alongside the pier I was the first to cross the gangway. There was the usual crowd assembled, and elbowing my way through made for the telegraph office in the hope that I should at last receive a message from my wife. I had not gone a dozen yards before I pulled up short. There in the full glare of a lamp was either my Of the Use of a Watch 227 wife or her double. I could not be mistaken, for ac- companying her were my little daughter and Edith Withington. “Evie,” I said, as I approached. She glanced at me doubtfully, but her doubt as to my personality was only momentary. “Don’t you know me?” I asked. My voice was sufficient revelation. “Jim l’” she answered. “Jim! I’m so glad you are back, Jim. So glad — so glad,” she repeated, half laughing and half crying. I did not say anything for a couple of minutes or so, and it was not until we were safely ensconced in a rail- way carriage that our talk became coherent. The boat had been rather crowded that evening with returning holiday makers, but with Withington and Forrest we managed to get a compartment to ourselves, and directly we were off I remarked, as I drew my little girl on to my knee: “What made mother bring you with her, little one?” “I wanted to come,” she answered, “and mother's afraid.” “Afraid?” I said, looking at Evie. “Afraid of what?” Then my wife, repeating again the words with which she had greeted me, replied, “I am so glad you are home again, Jim. Mannering is in England.” CHAPTER XXIII. THE PIRATE INVITES EVIE TO DINNER I CANNOT say that I was overwhelmed with surprise by the news Evie gave me of Mannering's presence in England, but her statement had the effect of a thun- derclap upon Withington and Forrest. “Mannering in England? Impossible!” ejaculated the former, and “Impossible!” also echoed the latter. “It may seem impossible to you,” replied my wife, “but that it is a fact I will soon prove to you.” “When I say that I can scarcely credit it,” said Withington, “I hope you will not think I am impugn- ing your veracity, Mrs. Sutgrove?” “You had better not,” chimed in his daughter, “for I am one of the witnesses to his presence here, having seen him with my own eyes, and having failed only by the merest chance to speak to him.” “Really!” said Withington. For a few moments he was too astonished to say more. Then he added: “Are you quite sure of his identity? You see it is only four days ago that he was in the Mediterranean to our certain knowledge, and that he could have managed to run the gauntlet of the people who were on the look- out for him and his piratical craft is inconceivable.” 228 The Pirate Invites Evie to Dinner 229 “As to how he may have managed I can offer no explanation,” replied Evie, “but he must have suc- ceeded somehow, for I am as certain of the fact that twenty-four hours ago he was in London as I am of my own existence.” “In London?” I gasped. “And for all I know he may still be in London,” said Edith Withington. “Then why in heaven's name have you not given particulars to the police?” asked her father. “We have done so,” replied the fair American, with a disdainful shrug of her shoulders; “but I guess they came to the conclusion that we were a pair of lunatics just escaped from a retreat, or else two sweet notoriety hunters anxious to make a sensation, for they all looked at us just as Mr. Forrest is looking at us now. What- ever he may say, I am sure he has his own private opinion as to our sanity.” Forrest laughed at the attack upon him before re- plying: “You do me an injustice, Miss Withington. I have no doubt as to your perfect sanity, but at the same time I might, perhaps, be excused from thinking that there is a possibility of both Mrs. Sutgrove and yourself being misled by a physical resemblance in some other person.” “I guess you had better tell the whole story right now, Evie,” said the girl, turning to my wife. “There's enough circumstantial evidence for even an American jury to be found in the happenings of the past three days.” 230 The Cruise of the Conqueror “Three days,” said Withington; “that settles it. Mannering could not have got here in the time even without counting the necessary stoppages to fill his tanks. Swift as she is, the Conqueror couldn’t per- form the feat.” His daughter rose and placed her hand on his mouth. “You dear old goose,” she said. “How often have you told me that the most futile form of intellectual exertion is the attempt to explain away facts because they do not happen to fit in with our preconceived theories.” “If they are facts, Miss Impertinence,” said her father, laughing. “Well, you wait and hear,” she answered. And he settled himself back in his corner to listen. “When you left us,” began Evie, “we obeyed in- structions, and the same day departed for Norfolk like a dutiful wife — ” “And a dutiful daughter,” interpolated Edith With- ington. “And at Sutgrove Hall we managed to pass away the time pleasantly enough. Nothing happened. Day succeeded day, and we felt as secure as >> “Cabbages,” remarked the girl, “and just about as lively.” “Edith was always bewailing the fact that she had not been allowed to accompany you,” continued my wife, smiling, “but it was fortunate that she remained with me. Still, I shall come to that later on. Well, nothing happened until Wednesday last.” The Pirate Invites Evie to Dinner 231 “To-day is Friday, isn’t it?” I asked, for the past few days had been so crowded that I was rather hazy in my mind as to the exact day of the week. “Yes, to-day is Friday,” replied Evie, “and it was on Wednesday morning that I received a letter by the first post marked with the Dover postmark.” She opened a bag she had with her, and extracting an envelope therefrom handed it to me. “You read it, Jim,” she said. I took the letter from her hand and did as I was bidden. It was written on plain paper and was merely dated Wednesday. “Dear Mrs. Sutgrove,” I read, “You will possibly be surprised at hearing from me, and still more astonished at learning that I have taken advantage of an impression, fostered by some recent events, that I am at the present moment in the Mediterranean to once again pay a visit to England. You may acquit me of folly in acquainting you of my arrival in a country where I might reason- ably expect a welcome too warm to be pleasant, for when you have read this letter to the end you will see that you are the one person in the world upon whom I may safely depend to respect my incognito. Perhaps, however, it may be as well to explain my reasons for this belief forthwith, though I cannot do so until I have congratulated you upon your exceedingly clever piece of acting when last I paid you a visit. I frankly confess that you imposed upon me successfully. From sources of information at my disposal I had learned of Mr. Sutgrove’s disappearance, and I had thought 232 The Cruise of the Conqueror that the world was rid of one booby at least. I am no believer in a future existence, but for the moment I was staggered when in answer to your invocation your husband made so prompt an appearance. After- wards, when I came to consider the question in the cool light of reason, I was able to arrive at a juster appreciation of the state of affairs. Perhaps I am wrong in calling Sutgrove a booby, for his little plot was neatly conceived. Yet — no, he does deserve the term. He has sufficient acquaintance with me to know that I should certainly redeem my promise to see you, and if he had watched, as I should have watched under such circumstances, he could easily have finished my career with a pistol-shot—if his hand had not shaken. He is not worthy of you, Evie, or he would have relieved himself of me. And this brings me to the point of this letter. He had his chance then; now it is my turn. Yes, let me repeat my words. It is my turn now. Sutgrove is in my power abso- lutely. He and his American friend— as big a blunderer as himself — are safely hidden away in a retreat which I had designed for my own safety in case pursuit should have become too hot at any time, and I will defy any one to find him. It was folly on his part to leave you unprotected. It was still greater folly to think that he could succeed in captur- ing me. I suppose he thought that I should still suspect him to be defunct—like most unintelligent persons, he obviously credits his adversary with a lack of intelligence equal to his own. Thus it happened The Pirate Invites Evie to Dinner 238 that he gave himself deliberately into my hands. There is no need for me to enter into details at this moment; all I need say is that the Mascot is at the bottom of the sea, together with the greater portion of her crew. Theirs was the fate which falls inevit- ably upon the blind followers of the blind. Now do not think that I am writing all this in any spirit of boastfulness. I have too great a contempt for my fellow creatures to set much store upon the easy victories I achieve over them when they set themselves to thwart my enterprises. My object in telling you is quite different. Our conversation, when we met a few weeks ago, was interrupted, and I desire to finish it. On that occasion I sought you; this time I desire that you shall come to me. I think you will come when I assure you that any failure to comply with my desire will be visited upon Sutgrove. As to the place of our meeting, I have a fancy for concluding the interrupted conversation at the very spot where it was broken off. I have been examining the time-tables, and I find that it will not be difficult for you to accede to my wishes. This letter will reach you on the Wednesday morning. If you catch the ten o’clock train from Cromer to St. Pancras you will be able to join the West of England express at Paddington, and thus be able to meet me at Salcombe to-morrow evening. It will, of course, occur to you that in making this assignation I am placing myself to some extent in your power. I am perfectly aware of the fact, and, since I have no intention of losing my liberty or my life, let The Pirate Invites Evie to Dinner 235 give utterance to the fear at the back of my mind, but every man of decent feeling will know how to interpret my thoughts. It was with the most poignant anxiety, therefore, that I waited for her to continue. “I was not afraid of him, Jim,” she said, looking fearlessly into my eyes. “Do you know that I feel much more afraid of you when I see so strange a look on your face. Surely you must know that you could trust to me. I took with me the little pistol you gave me before you left, and I saw that it was loaded in all five chambers.” There was a proud, confident ring in her voice, and, at sound of it, and at her fearless glance, all my hor- rible fears vanished. “I am afraid I have never realized how strong you are, dear,” I replied, humbly. Then I think we must have both forgotten that we were not alone, for a minute later I awoke to the fact Withington and Forrest were looking out of the win- dows into the night, and with a word of apology I asked Evie to continue her story. “You can see that there was little enough time for any deliberation if I was to keep the appointment,” she said. “Only just sufficient, in fact, to tell Edith all the details and confide our baby to her care before driving off to catch the Cromer train. I arrived at the station with five minutes to spare, and I chafed at the delay, for fear that the train might be late, and that I should miss the Great Western express. As things turned out, I need not have worried myself, for at 238 The Cruise of the Conqueror coming on to the Carlton and that I would await her there. She was just mad for a second, but I brought out your message and she was all honey and smiles in a moment. I don’t really think you are worth so much affection, Mr. Sutgrove.” “I am quite sure I am not,” I answered. “Such modesty!” laughed my wife. “But it was lucky for me that Edith had acted promptly, so that I was warned in time. With just a little more luck we might have had the credit of capturing the Pirate.” “Then he turned up, after all?” I cried, incredu- lously. “Of course he did,” replied Evie, in a most matter- of-fact tone. “While I was talking to Edith, my eyes were all the time on the entrance. A hansom drew up, and a man jumped out. He entered the vestibule and began to advance towards me. I recognized him in spite of the fact that his hair was fair instead of dark. ‘There he is,” I cried. “‘Who?’ asked Edith, for I had not then had time to explain how I came to be stopping at the hotel. “‘Mannering, Mannering himself,” I answered. I was so excited that my voice could be heard all over the hall, and everybody stopped and looked at me. Mannering heard as well as the other people about, and, turning on his heel, passed again through the door. We both rushed after him, but before we could do anything, he had jumped into the cab which was just moving away, and the driver whipped up his horse. He had escaped.” CHAPTER XXIV. THE PIRATE STILL LINGERS IN LONDON At this point in the story Edith Withington, at my wife's request, took up the narration. “If that porter at the door had been in full pos- session of his senses, we should none of us have had any more trouble with the Motor Pirate,” she declared. “I called to him to stop Mannering, but, instead of doing so, he just held me.” “Well, you can hardly blame the commissionaire for his choice,” I said, laughing. “I fancy that a couple of hours later, when I gave him an American opinion on the stupidity of the male sex in general, and of the English male in particular, he wished he had held the Pirate,” said the American girl. “But that was afterwards. At the moment we had no time to spare for expressing our opinions. When we saw that he had escaped, we managed to persuade the porter that we were in need of a cab right then. By the time he had whistled one up, I had ex- plained to Evie that the best thing for us to do was to go straight away to the police office and set some one on his track, and I expressed the opinion that, if your police did not get hold of him before he left 239 240 The Cruise of the Conqueror this city of theirs, that they ought to send for some of Pinkerton’s men to teach them their business. “Anyway, when once persuaded of your safety, Mr. Sutgrove, your wife soon saw that it was her duty to tell the story, and off we drove to Scotland Yard long before the porter had recovered from his aston- ishment at our unheard-of proceedings. I can tell you I was just keen on getting that man caught, but " — she turned to the detective—“I am sorry to say that I didn’t see any evidences of keenness in the rep- resentatives of your profession, Mr. Forrest.” “I am sorry for that,” he replied, smiling. “And well you may be,” she retorted. “They do say that our people are too fond of the nimble dollar, but give me an American all the time.” “Why, what occurred?” asked the detective. “I’ll tell you,” said the girl. “First the policeman at the door seemed determined to know the whole of our business, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that we could persuade him that we wanted to confide our story to the head of the detective department and not to him.” “He was polite, I hope?” said Forrest. “Oh, yes,” she answered. “He smiled as if he was piloting us across Regent Street on a May morn- ing, but all the same it was some time before we could convince him that we had not come there especially to interview him. Ultimately he took us up-stairs and along a passage, and shut us up in a little room with a couple of chairs and a table. There we remained The Pirate Lingers in London 241 for nearly five minutes. I wanted to go outside and find some one, but Evie said it was usual in England to keep everybody waiting for at least ten minutes in all Government offices. At last some one did come. I guess if they were to have such a sleepy-looking young man in the force in New York, he would soon be told to look out for another billet. He had a piece of paper and a pencil in his hand, and he asked us our business in a tone which suggested that for any one to disturb him at eight o'clock in the evening was a crime which could only be punished by twelve months’ imprisonment at the least. It was lucky for him that he did not stop long, or I should have said something to make him jump, but, as soon as he heard our names, he half-opened his eyes, and, remarking that perhaps we had better see the inspector on duty, he simply dreamed himself away out of the room. We had not long to wait before a second man made his appearance, but, though he did look awake, he seemed to be just as casual as the first. He listened to what we had to say, read the letters and telegram, asked two or three questions, and then opened the door for us to go.” “What did you expect?” asked Forrest, with a renewal of his smile. “I don’t know that I expected anything except some sign of — well, call it intelligent activity. As it was, there seemed to me to be no more signs of activity about Scotland Yard than there are in the average grandfather's clock. Even when I told the inspector that less than half an hour previously Mannering had The Pirate Lingers in London 245 ing as the other. So far as we are concerned we are out of the game. Even if we had a boat to equal the Conqueror in speed, Mannering would manage to give us the slip. He is as elusive as a will-o'-the-wisp.” “You would never become a millionaire,” replied Withington. “You are not optimistic enough.” “There is a point at which optimism becomes folly,” I answered, sententiously. “Never,” he replied. “You may take my word that in every enterprise in which he engages, the optimist comes out top dog.” “You mean that the man who does not know when he is beaten is bound to win in the end?” I asked. “Not precisely that,” he said, “but if you put it that the man who is not deterred from pursuing the course he has mapped out by any reverses he may meet with, is bound sooner or later to reach the goal he is looking for, I shall accept the statement.” “If you apply your argument to Mannering, where do we come in P” I asked. “Fairly put,” laughed my friend. “But as the goal at which Mannering is aiming, so far as I can see, is the gallows, I am not so certain that our endeavours to bring about his capture will not assist all parties to attain their ambitions. Anyhow, I am more deter- mined than ever not to rest until I have run him to earth.” I shrugged my shoulders, for I was inclined to throw up the whole business. The rush of the past few days had made me feel that a little peaceful retirement 246 The Cruise of the Conqueror would be a very desirable thing. There is a point at which excitement palls, and I was not a jaded million- aire who had found a new sensation. So I remarked: “It is all very well to talk, but unless we can persuade the Admiralty to loan us a destroyer, it seems to me folly to continue the pursuit.” “Oh ye of little faith,” said the American, “have you forgotten that for the removal of all difficulties there is one magic talisman, that the simple word dollar has more power than any of the spells of the old magicians? I shall be vastly annoyed if my agent does not inform me on our arrival in town that, in execution of my cabled instructions, there is a vessel waiting at Southampton ready to weigh anchor the moment we step aboard.” “By Jove! You are a real sportsman, Mr. With- ington,” said Forrest. There was so much enthusiasm expressed in the tone of the detective's voice that my sluggish inclination was stirred thereby. “I wondered why you wanted to talk over the wires to such an extent,” continued Forrest, “for I did not think that an immediate continuation of the pursuit was in your mind.” “I guess when once we Amurricans put our dollars into a business,” replied Withington, assuming a Yankee twang which was but rarely noticeable in his speech, “that we do so with the intention of making that business hum. And, either the business hums or the dollars give out.” The Pirate Lingers in London 247 “Not much chance of the dollars giving out on this occasion,” remarked Forrest, dryly. “If they were likely to do so,” continued Withing- ton, “they would be planked down all the same. That Motor Pirate has scored once, maybe he will score twice, but if I don’t get home on him on the third occasion you can put me up for a dandy block in a cloth-cutter's window, with a label round my neck, “The millionaire that failed.’” “Spoken like my own father,” ejaculated Edith Withington, her whole face sparkling with delight. “Only this time you must take me with you. You cannot manage alone, it is clear.” Withington’s face became grave, and he looked at me. “No,” he said. “But indeed you must take me,” she urged. “There is no real danger. You have all come home safe.” “Not quite all of us,” he replied, and in a few suc- cinct phrases he narrated the main incidents of our trip. He turned to my wife when he had finished. “You at least will see, Mrs. Sutgrove, how impossible it is for Edith to come with us.” “Yes,” she said. She looked at him for a moment, then she turned to me. “But I think you must find room for me on this expedition,” she added, quietly. Of course, I began straightway to make objection, but she was firm in her determination. “It is clear now,” she urged, “that Mannering is as much to be feared in London as anywhere else, and I shall only feel quite safe while I am near you.” 248 The Cruise of the Conqueror The argument which ensued was only interrupted by our arrival at Charing Cross and there our party broke up. Withington was met by his agent and re- mained to make arrangements for the crew of the Mas- cot. Forrest took charge of the prisoner we had brought with us, explaining that he would first have to place him in safe custody, and then report himself at headquarters, though he hoped to look us up later in the night. Then my wife and I, with our child, drove off to the hotel, leaving the Withingtons to follow us as soon as the arrangements for the men were completed. A couple of minutes later we were put down, and, pausing to pay the cabman, I followed Evie in. But my entrance was barred by a stalwart commissionaire, who held out his arm as he remarked, “Not this way, my man.” I am usually somewhat particular about my attire, but my mind had been so fully occupied that until this contretemps I had not given a thought as to what effect my unshaven and generally dishevelled appear- ance was likely to produce on beholders. I was still wearing the clothes in which I had landed on the Minorquin coast, and I at once realized that the com- missionaire regarded me as a particularly ruffianly sample of the cab-runner. Fortunately Evie, looking back to see why I was not following, perceived my predicament and came to my rescue. We were still laughing over the matter when we entered the sitting- room of our suite. An envelope addressed to me was lying on the table. We Renew the Pursuit 251 years ago,” she answered. “I wired yesterday for your clothes to be sent on in case you should have forgotten your luggage.” Her manner was so perfectly calm, her voice so even, that I realized that the message from Mannering had not affected her in the slightest degree. “I knew all that years ago,” I replied, as I departed at once to make the necessary alterations in my appear- ance. When I reappeared, half an hour later, shaven, washed, and in evening clothes, I felt a different being, though my curiosity as to the note had in no way abated. My first question on my return to our sitting- room was to ask what Evie had discovered concerning its delivery. There had been little to learn. A district messenger boy had left the missive at the hotel about an hour before our arrival and it had been placed on the table in the usual way. “It is rather a nuisance,” I said, “but I suppose I must at once give information regarding it to the police.” My wife smiled. “You need not worry yourself,” she said. “I sent the note to Scotland Yard, with an account of all the information I could gather con- cerning its delivery, twenty minutes ago by a special messenger.” I was not sorry to hear that there was no necessity for stirring abroad again, and I said so as warmly as I knew how. “Not that I think the information will be of much use,” continued Evie, a little later. “If they could 252 The Cruise of the Conqueror not catch Mannering with the short notice they had last night, there is not much chance of their being more successful to-night, when he has had a much longer time to escape. In any event, I was not going to let you go rushing about all over the place when I can see by your face that you are nearly worn out. I have just ordered supper and sent a message to Edith and Mr. Withington to join us, and directly it is over you are to go straight to bed.” I stoutly combated the view that I was done up, but my own actions belied my assertions. My hot bath had induced a comfortable feeling of languor, and so soon as I had settled comfortably in an armchair I promptly fell asleep. I was awakened by a crash, which caused me to leap to my feet, under the impression that I was once more aboard the Mascot, and that a shell had burst somewhere in my immediate vicinity. A ludicrous picture was presented to my open eyes. A waiter with wide-stretched mouth, his whole body rigid with terror, stood gazing at me, while the para- phernalia of the supper-table lay scattered on the floor around him, just as it had fallen from his nerveless hands. I recognized the man as a waiter who had attended upon us for a number of years past on our visits to the hotel, and it was evident that he had recognized me. Evie was looking at him in astonishment, and I for a moment was at a loss to account for his singular behaviour. Then the cause dawned upon me. We Renew the Pursuit 253 “I suppose you omitted to inform Paul that I had come to life again,” I said to my wife. “I certainly had forgotten that the announcement of your death has never been contradicted, and that the story of your reappearance from spirit-land filled columns of all the newspapers in the country,” she replied, laughing. Then she turned to the waiter. “You need not be afraid, Paul,” she said. “This is no ghostly visitor. It is Mr. Sutgrove himself.” At the sound of my voice the colour had returned to the man's cheeks, and by the time Evie had finished speaking, he had sufficiently recovered his self-posses- sion to stutter out an apology, which my wife promptly cut short by taking all responsibility upon herself for the damage to glass and crockery, the fragments of which he began to retrieve from the floor with trem- bling hands, while now and again he favoured me with a glance, as if he expected to see me fade away through the wall. My famous impersonation of a ghost, as Withington described it when he joined us a few minutes later, furnished us with a good deal of amusement, and we were all quite merry about it during the meal. But the recognition had one effect I had not foreseen. Forrest joined us before we had finished our supper, and very shortly after his arrival Paul appeared with a card in his hand, which he gave to me, with the remark, “The gentleman is very pressing, sir. Says it is most important that he should see you at once.” I just glanced at the card and saw inscribed in We Renew the Pursuit 255 hiding-place, he was able to inform us that the Con- queror had, during the afternoon, been sighted on the Essex coast by a pleasure steamer between Clacton and Southend. In view of this fact, the authorities at Scotland Yard had attributed the greatest importance to the letter which had been delivered to me, and most elaborate plans had been made to cut him off if he attempted to rejoin his boat. I did not think that there was much chance of these being successful. Mannering could have counted upon at least three hours’ clear start, and less would be sufficient for a man of his energy and daring. With- ington even wished to impress upon Forrest the desira- bility of doing nothing to interfere with Mannering's rejoining the Conqueror. “By not hustling him,” he said, “he may be led into a false security on his return to his hiding-place, thus giving us a much better chance of intercepting him on the way.” “That would be all right,” replied the detective, “if we really knew where his retreat is.” “There does not seem much reason to doubt that it is in our power to find out,” replied the American. “It cannot be far from the spot where our prisoner told us that the Mary first transferred part of her cargo, for it agrees with our former theories formed when we heard of the holding up of the Dunster Castle. If you want any further evidence that the spot is in the neighbourhood of Finisterre, it is surely to be found in the Pirate's latest exploit.” He held up his finger argumentatively. “If Mannering had a 256 The Cruise of the Conqueror retreat or base of operations within a radius of two or three hundred miles, there would have been no need for him to have held up the Mosquito; but necessity impelled him. He would not have held up an oil-ship merely to fill his empty tanks otherwise. In order to get back to his base petrol was a necessity, and his only method of obtaining it to waylay some vessel with a cargo aboard. He must have surmised that we could only have tracked him to the Mediterranean through discovery of his previous purchase of spirit, and he would not have risked capture by attempting to repeat the operation. The mere fact that he found it neces- sary to hold up an oil-ship in order to replenish his supplies, and, in so doing, advertise his presence in home waters, is, to my mind, almost conclusive evi- dence that if we look for him in the spot I have in- dicated we shall not be very far off the scent.” “But what about the two boat-loads of the petrol that he took with him?” said Forrest. “When he was seen this afternoon he had no boats with him, and if he had only desired spirit enough to return to the north of Spain, he would not have needed to do more than fill his tanks.” “As for that,” I remarked, “he may be contem- plating some further exploits in the North Sea before returning, and there are plenty of creeks on the Essex coast where he could plant the cargo and sink the boats, in the reasonable belief that the stuff would be secure from discovery. The smugglers of an older day knew that full well.” We Renew the Pursuit 257 “Good,” said Withington. “I hope he has some further adventure in view. Give us twenty-four hours' start, and if we do not drop on him you may call me a self-sufficient ass.” “If we do meet him,” I remarked, with a vivid recollection of our last encounter, “I hope it will be in the daylight.” “Day or night will not matter much,” said With- ington. “My new yacht is provided with the latest thing in search-lights, and my agent has already signed on some practised gunners.” “I wish you luck,” said Forrest, with a sigh, and he rose to leave us. “But surely you are not going to desert us,” said Withington. “I fully expected to have the pleasure of your company.” “There's nothing I should have liked better,” an- swered the detective, “but I cannot manage it. I shall have to appear at the police court to-morrow to give evidence against our prisoner.” He paused before add- ing, apparently as an afterthought, “If you don’t want to be delayed for the same reason I should certainly advise you not to postpone your departure beyond to- morrow morning.” Then our party broke up, for the appeal of a com- fortable bed was too insistent to be denied. The night which followed was all too short, for, with Forrest's warning in our minds, we had determined to flit at the earliest possible moment, and eight o'clock saw us all gathered around the breakfast-table. And now 258 The Cruise of the Conqueror for the first time Withington revealed to me the out- come of the long series of telegraphic messages he had despatched from Port Mahon and other stopping-places on our homeward journey. “Mascot II.,” he said, “will be quite a match for half a dozen Conquerors, as you will easily appreciate when you see her. She is a brand-new turbine despatch boat of five hundred tons, built by Yarrow for the Japanese navy, and in her speed trials has shown her- self capable of developing twenty-nine knots. The very thing for us.” “It sounds all right,” I remarked, “but how did you manage to get hold of her?” “The Japs were in no particular hurry for her,” he answered, “and as I happen to have had some large financial transactions with the Japanese Government, it was not difficult to get her delivery transferred to me upon an agreement to hand her over in three months' time.” “Plus the payment of a certain consideration,” I remarked. “That goes without saying,” he laughed. “But the figure is not an exorbitant one. Anyhow, with her and the Challenger we ought to stand a chance of cut- ting off the Pirate.” “The Challenger?” I questioned in surprise. “Are you thinking of taking your motor-boat, too?” “Yes,” he said. “I thought that she might be use- ful as a patrol boat.” Then a thought occurred to me, to which I instantly We Renew the Pursuit 259 gave words. “Two boats would be better than one for that purpose. Could you not manage to pick up the Mist?” My suggestion commended itself to my friend. Hence it happened that when the rest of the party drove off to Waterloo, I remained behind to depart a few minutes later with Sanders for Paddington en route for Salcombe, where the Mist was housed. So far I had had little time to think out the desira- bility of the course to which I had committed myself, but when I settled down in my seat in the express which was whirling me away to the west country my mind misgave me that I had acted foolishly in allow- ing my wife's pleadings to induce me to consent to her accompanying us on the cruise. I turned to the news- paper to seek distraction from the accusation of my thoughts, but, as in the old days, the Motor Pirate was the one subject which filled them to the exclusion of everything else. There were accounts of his movements in the North Sea; there were full and picturesque details of the capture of the Eulalie and of our fight with the Mary and the Conqueror, evidently obtained from the men of the Mascot. I read, too, an interview with the Prince of Monaco, in which his Highness gave an account of his adventures on board the Conqueror, and from this I learned that 500,000 francs had been hastily collected from the Monte Carlo banks and the strong room of the Casino in order to secure the Prince's release. There were also details given of pro- jected naval movements, which, if correct, would seem 260 The Cruise of the Conqueror to leave little chance of Mannering's escape. But somehow I did not feel that there was much likelihood of these being successful, and my dejection increased to such a degree that I was half of a mind to stop the express at some station and send a wire to Evie forbid- ding her to sail in the Mascot II. Instead of doing so, however, I fell asleep, and I slumbered peacefully until we ran into Exeter, when I knew that it would be too late to prevent her sailing with the yacht. Moreover, my sleep had refreshed me. I was prepared to take a more optimistic view of matters, and for the rest of the way I chatted cheerfully with Sanders over the prospect before us, and when at last we reached Salcombe and I saw the open estuary shining in the sun my last doubt fled. After all there was a spice of cowardice in perpetual flight, and one could but die once. 264 The Cruise of the Conqueror to run across the Conqueror was just about as problem- atic as the finding of the proverbial needle in a bundle of hay, and when I expressed myself to this effect to Withington he, somewhat to my surprise, agreed with Ine. “What is the use of all this preparation, then?” I asked. “You have left one thing out of your reckoning,” he replied. “You have not taken the most important item into account.” “What is that?” I queried. “Luck, old fellow,” he answered. “On this trip we are going to make a definite search of the coast. Of course, I have come to the conclusion that sooner or later Mannering will be coming this way, and I am trusting to my luck to bring me into contact with him.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I haven’t much belief in luck being adverse to Mannering,” I remarked, but the words were hardly out of my lips before there was a shout from our lookout aft of, “Boat on our star- board quarter, sir. Rising us fast.” “What about luck now?” shouted Withington as he made for the bridge. “It was hardly luck that made you post a lookout aft as well as at the fore,” I answered as I scrambled up after him, anxious to get a sight of the stranger who was still invisible from the deck. Even from the bridge ten minutes elapsed before I could make out with the glass a tiny speck bobbing | 266 The Cruise of the Conqueror from the west by north course we had been steering when the boat had been sighted, the Mascot was making due north. The motor-boat had, however, gained upon us no more. She still hung on our quarter at the dis- tance of about half a mile. By this time there was no doubt left in my mind that this was indeed our enemy, an opinion which was indubitably shared by every one on board, and I was anxious to try the effect of a shot upon him. But Withington would not consent. “It is clear that he mistrusts us, but it is also clear that he does not imagine that we are very dangerous. If he were to put about we should lose sight of him in ten minutes. No, let him continue to waste his petrol by the attempt to get round us, for if we can only edge him far enough off his course there is a chance that he will not have enough spirit left to take him home, and we shall make a prize of him for a cer- tainty.” “True,” I answered, “but you have forgotten one thing.” I pointed to the west where the sun was rapidly approaching the horizon. “When night comes he will give us the slip for a certainty.” “The light will be good enough for gun practice for half an hour yet,” he replied, “ and I promise you that in fifteen minutes I will try the effect of a dose of shrapnel.” Slowly the sun went down. The Conqueror made no motion to further change her course except once, when Withington made a slight attempt to cut in upon her. Both the yacht and the motor-boat were heading The Conqueror Outmanoeuvred Us 267 straight out into the Atlantic. The air was clear, and in the rosy glow reflected from the sky upon the water both boats sped along, silhouetted blackly against the waves of light. Twelve of the fifteen minutes elapsed and I left the bridge for the deck and made my way aft, where the gun crews stood alert at their posts, and here more than ever I realized the difficulty of getting a shot home upon so slight a mark as that presented by the Conqueror. Then once again she edged off to the west, and again the Mascot followed suit. To my sur- prise the motor-boat seemed to be losing way, and the thought flashed into my mind that her supply of petrol was exhausted; but my conclusion was speedily falsi- fied, and at the same moment Mannering's manoeuvre was made plain to me. What was comparatively easy to the Mascot was child's play to the Conqueror. Man- nering must have stopped the way on his boat by a sudden reversal of the engines, so rapidly did the Mas- cot forge ahead, and the Conqueror dropped at least another cable's-length behind, although Withington had at once passed the order for full speed astern. Then, no sooner was the way off the Mascot than the Con- queror swung round on the port tack. For two seconds she presented her broadside to us, and then we saw that she was raising a wake which to me was sufficient proof that her motor was running at top speed. “Damnation!” shouted Withington. “Fire on her. A hundred guineas to the man who makes a hit.” The two guns aft spoke out together uselessly. They The Conqueror Outmanoeuvred Us 269 would have postponed his little manoeuvre until after dark. As things turned out he was compelled to take the risk of exposing himself broadside to our fire while the light was good. No, his tanks must be nearly empty or he would never have taken that chance — not that it mattered. That is the result of not having had a naval training. I ought to have foreseen what happened and been prepared for the move. There is only one consolation to be obtained from the incident.” “What is that?” I inquired, for I did not see that any consolation could be derived from the fact that our enemy should have escaped so easily. “Why, the corroboration it supplies as to the loca- tion of his place of retreat,” replied my friend. “Otherwise he would never have troubled to manoeuvre us out of our course. His object was clearly to get us far enough away from the coast to ensure his being able to run in without detection.” “Then if we had simply kept to the course we were steering when we met him he would have been either compelled to run the gauntlet of our fire or cruise about outside until his supply of petrol was exhausted,” I said. “Exactly,” replied Withington. “It was the sudden appreciation of that fact which made me express myself so forcibly a few minutes ago. I hope the ladies will forgive me.” He turned to Evie, who, with Edith Withington, had remained on deck, though they had insisted upon the child going below in case of the Pirate returning our fire. 270 The Cruise of the Conqueror “Forgive what?” queried my wife, artlessly. “Evie has a most convenient deafness upon occa- sions,” chimed in Edith Withington, “and, as it would be unfilial for me to pull your ears, sir, I think on this occasion you will escape being called to account.” We all laughed and the conversation became gen- eral. There seemed little prospect of our seeing any- thing further of the Pirate for some hours at least, and we were thinking of going below to dress for din- ner when again the cry of ship ahead galvanized us into life. We were just about crossing the ocean path of all the big southern-bound steamships, so that there was nothing surprising in the hail. Indeed, I had wondered that during our pursuit of the Conqueror we had sighted no vessel of any kind. I expected, therefore, to see ahead of us some big Union Castle or P. and O. liner. But in this I was mistaken; in- stead, I saw bearing down upon us out of the rapidly gathering gloom a low-decked vessel, whose appearance at once stamped her as a torpedo destroyer, and there fluttered to her masthead the signal that she wished to speak with us. “One of his Majesty’s torpedo destroyers, whose commander has heard the firing and wants to know what it was all about,” said the master to Withington. “As we cannot catch Mannering, we may as well do the polite,” said my friend, and he bade the master heave the Mascot to and ask the stranger to send a boat aboard. The invitation was not accepted out of hand, but The Conqueror Outmanoeuvred Us 271 when Merrick had conveyed to her through the mega- phone a certain amount of information regarding our recent experience, her commander no longer hesitated about accepting the invitation. He accepted a further invitation shortly after he had stepped on deck, and, sending back a message by his boat that his vessel was to keep company with the Mascot, he expressed himself delighted at having so opportunely arrived at the very moment we were sitting down to dinner. CHAPTER XXVII. WHEREIN WE FIND A LIKELY HARBOUR THE commander of the destroyer was exceedingly interested in the news we were able to give him, but I fancy he was still more interested in the fact that we had ladies aboard. His point of view can be easily understood. He explained that for the past month he had been cruising on the northwesterly coast of Spain looking for a phantom pirate, while a week of the bay was — on a destroyer at least—sufficient to glut the appetite of the most ardent seaman for the delights of the sea. Naturally he was loath to tear himself away. He was frankly amused at the suggestion that the Mascot could succeed where he had failed, though he admitted the possibility of the Conqueror being able to elude him had he been engaged alone in the search for her. But a second destroyer and a cruiser had also been told off to engage in the search, and he failed to realize the probability of Mannering escaping from all of them. When, therefore, we told him of our en- counter in the Mediterranean, and of the more recent appearance of the Conqueror at the mouth of the Thames, he was frankly incredulous in regard to the suggestion that Mannering could have had any per- manent base on the Spanish coast. 272 We Find a Likely Harbour 273 “The Admiralty seem to think so or they would hardly have kept you here all this time,” remarked Withington. The young commander expressed himself pretty freely concerning his chiefs and their powers of ratio- cination, though he wound up by remarking, as he glanced at Edith Withington, that he forgave them for all their ill deeds, since the result had been an acquaintance that he should hope to renew very shortly, as we should be cruising in the same waters. It was about ten o’clock when he returned to his own ship, and as we came on deck to see him off we saw the Finisterre light blinking away at us ahead. He was just going over the side when it suddenly occurred to me that it would be as well to let him know that we had a couple of petrol boats aboard with which we proposed to patrol the coast. “Lucky you thought of it,” he replied when I in- formed him of our intention. “If our search-light had happened to fall on one of them, I wouldn’t have given much for the lives of their crews. You had better rig up some signal astern so that we shall be able to dis- tinguish between your boats and the Pirate — a couple of pennants will do” — and with this piece of advice he took his departure. A very little later the destroyer parted company with us, for Withington had determined to put about and steam slowly along the coast, while the lieutenant in command of the destroyer had announced his inten- tion of at once communicating the information we 274 The Cruise of the Conqueror had been able to give him to his superior officer on the cruiser. Nothing further happened that night. Withington and I divided the watches, and morning came without anything to awaken our suspicions. With the dawn the Mascot once more put about and, hugging the coast closely, we steamed along until we had returned to the spot where as near as we could judge the petrol had been transshipped from the Mary by the Con- queror. So far as our scrutiny from the Mascot went, no sort of place which might serve as a harbour of refuge was revealed. The iron-bound coast, rising to tall cliffs, with the sea boiling amongst the broken rocks at the base, seemed to threaten with destruction any floating thing which should have the hardihood to attempt to find a passage amongst them. “We shall have to make a closer scrutiny in the boats,” said Withington, and so immediately after breakfast we launched the Mist and the Challenger and set out on our quest. A motor-boat, I need hardly say, is not an ideal craft in which to explore a rocky coast, but we argued that if Mannering had his refuge amongst them, where the Conqueror could go, there the Mist and the Challenger could surely follow. For- tunately the weather was fine and the sea calm, other- wise there would have been very little of either of our boats left after a few hours. Close in to the cliffs we found the set of the currents most baffling, and navigation an unceasing strain. More than once when I had entered what appeared to be a navigable channel We Find a Likely Harbour 277 with my eyes I saw nothing extraordinary. Merely sea and rocks and the foam of the sea breaking on the rocks. - “I can see nothing that tells me anything,” I re- plied. “D’ye ken those two points like the pinnacles of a church?” he said. “Yes,” I answered, “but what of them?” “The moment I saw those two bits of rock,” he replied, impressively, “that same moment my whole dream came back to me. I saw those two bits of rock in my dream and we steered the Mist right be- tween them as we went to capture the Conqueror.” I looked at my companion closely. I hardly knew whether to take him seriously. It even occurred to me that the excitement he had undergone since he had been in my service had affected his brain. But he was as sane to all appearance as he had ever been. At this moment Withington returned from another fruitless attempt to penetrate an apparent passage and shouted to me that he thought we had done enough for the day. “Ye'll no be returnin’ until ye have seen whether there is a passage 'atween those rocks,” urged Sanders. “One moment,” I shouted in response. “Sanders has an idea that he can find a way through this in- fernal tangle of rocks, and I am going to let him have a try.” Even as I spoke I motioned the engineer to take the wheel while I moved aft, glad of the chance to We Find a Likely Harbour 281 he turned to me and remarked: “This canna be the place. There's no pirate here, for I dreamed of no sandy beach, ye ken.” He looked so disappointed that I could not forbear to laugh, and Withington joined in my merriment, for Sanders's dream was no secret to any of us. “Ye may well laugh,” said the Scotsman sourly, “but all the same, ye’ll be disappointed that we’ve come through yon ugly passages all for nothing.” “We will not confess that it is for nothing until we have explored a little bit farther,” I replied. “If my eyes do not deceive me, there's a path up the cliff there, and if we can once get on the top we may be able to see something that is not revealed to us below here.” Withington at once jumped at the proposition, and we drew carefully into the land. The American and I sprang ashore, leaving the two engineers to compare notes as to their feelings and keep watch in case Mannering should make an appearance from the un- known caves and passages with which it was obvious the huge mass of cliff into which we had penetrated was honeycombed. I had not been mistaken as to the existence of a path up the cliff, and we had not gone very far upon it before we had clear evidence that it had been trodden very recently. Footmarks were clearly visible at spots where the soft earth had crumbled down, and, here and there, were scratches on the stone such as would be made by the iron nails in a boot. It was not a very 282 The Cruise of the Conqueror difficult path, so we managed to take the ascent at a pretty brisk pace, though we were fairly winded when we arrived at the summit of the cliff and for the first time looked down upon the sea. It was a magnificent view which met our eyes, but it lacked one thing. Of the Conqueror there was no sign whatever. CHAPTER XXVIII. WE STRIKE A HOT SCENT WHILE we paused to regain our breath Withington and I had time to take stock of our surroundings; and here let me describe the nature of the place as it ap- peared from our vantage-point at the edge of the cliff. First, as to the path which we had ascended. This apparently terminated at the summit, for there was no sign of any track upon the wind-swept uplands, which stretched away for miles inland without sign of house or habitation or even a tree to break the long, even skyline. “Looks desolate enough to afford our friend security from espionage, doesn’t it?” remarked Withington, and we both turned our faces seaward. In this direction signs of life were not wanting to the view. Right at our feet lay our motor-boats rock- ing gently on the calm waters of the land-locked bay. Beyond them was a line of rocks against which the sea was breaking, and lying half a mile farther out was the Mascot, and with my glass I could make out my wife and Edith Withington on deck scanning the coast for signs of us. Guessing that they might be getting 283 We Strike a Hot Scent 285 “I cannot imagine,” he answered, soberly. “Even now one could fancy that any one of these gaps com- municated with the bottomless pit, and that we could hear the cries of souls in anguish arising from them. But let us get on.” He took the lead, picking a path — if path it could be called — where man's foot had probably never trod- den before, across the tangled mass towards the sea- face. Our progress was slow, which was not surpris- ing considering the nature of the way. The climb by which we had reached the crag that formed our start- ing-place was child’s play to what we were now called upon to perform. Yet we did not think of turning back, though our hands were cut and bleeding and our elbows and knees scored by the sharp points of rocks over which we clambered towards our goal. About half-way towards the sea we came to an impas- sable chasm of a width which it was impossible for us to bridge, and we had little doubt but that it was the channel by which we had entered the bay from the cliff-bound pool. There was nothing to be done if we wished to explore farther but to follow the cliff edge and so ultimately make our way round the pool. We progressed successfully for some distance on our new track until, in fact, we came to the verge of the pool itself and looked down into its depths. But a few yards farther we found our way barred absolutely, for on clambering over a smooth ridge of rock, worn by the weather to an edge as keen as a knife, we found ourselves on a little plateau of a couple of yards square 290 The Cruise of the Conqueror but in the evening light it was as cold and sombre as an antechamber to hell, while the pool in which we presently found ourselves might have been filled with the veritable water of death. We did not linger therein, and we all drew long breaths of relief when we finally emerged from the shadow of the rocks and felt the sea breeze fresh on our faces. We raced the boats home to the Mascot and stepped aboard with the comfortable feeling that the day when we should be able to ask a reckoning at Mannering's hands for all the evil he had wrought was fast approaching. There was only one thing that was imperative. Whatever happened, Mannering must not be allowed to escape, and heedless even of the demands of appetite, no sooner were we on the deck of the Mascot than we began to discuss this matter. We did not take long to arrive at a conclusion as to the means to be adopted. All that was requisite was to bottle the neck of the channel until the morning, when we might renew our search. But how best to perform this task was not so obvious. During the day the weather had changed, a breeze was beginning to blow from the northwest, accompanied by a misty rain, and it would be the merest folly to endanger the safety of the Mascot and the precious lives aboard her by hugging the coast closely enough to keep the entrance of the channel continuously under observation. When we had quite decided that this course was impossible, I looked at Withington and Withington looked at me. One thought had occurred to each of us. We Strike a Hot Scent 291 “It means a night patrol,” said Withington. I nodded. “A good dinner is the best preparation,” I remarked, and without any further parley we went below. We did not talk much over the meal, though we gave the ladies an account of our discoveries, and after plentifully dosing ourselves with strong black coffee, we once more donned our oilskins, and reëmbarked on our motor-boats, taking with each of us this time an extra hand, making sure that the guns and life-belts were in good order, and seeing that the petrol tanks were full. Then began one of the dreariest night-watches I have ever kept. I never want to pass through a similar experience. The Mist slid out into the darkness, and straightway it seemed that we had lost hold of ex- istence. When I came to compare notes afterwards with Withington, I found that he had experienced the same sense of unutterable loneliness. The night was so thick that at first even my companions in the boat were invisible, though after awhile, when my eyes had grown accustomed to the night, I could manage to just distinguish them and to make out the crest of the waves as they rushed down upon us. Later when we neared the rocks the break of the foam showed like a white sheet stretched against the blackness of the night. The Challenger had passed out of sight the moment we had left the side of the Mascot and for an hour we did not catch sight of her. I had steered the Mist to the spot agreed upon, and Withington had, 292 The Cruise of the Conqueror I doubted not, also taken up his appointed station. We had arranged to signal each other at the expira- tion of every hour, and when the first period had passed and I saw a flash of light from a hand-lamp held aloft, I began to feel a renewal of confidence. I made a reply with the lamp which we kept so carefully shaded that only the merest gleam fell on our compass, and thereafter I began to feel more comfortable. Still the passage of the hours was slow. There was nothing but the suck of the pumps and the trembling of the screw to fill the blank. What my companions were thinking about I did not know, for beyond an occasional objurgation at the weather, neither of them said a word. Five times we had signalled and the time was ap- proaching for the sixth, when a flash of light from the direction in which Withington had last made his presence known attracted my attention. One, two, three flashes I counted, and my heart began to beat faster, for this was the signal which announced that my friend had seen something which had aroused his suspicions. Then almost at the same moment I heard the quick report of a gun, and setting our engine at full speed I headed the Mist in the direction of the vanished gleams. For five minutes I kept on my course, then I slackened speed, fearful lest I should come upon the Challenger in the darkness and involve both boats in a common ruin. I need not have feared. The next moment a blue light flared out half a mile ahead of me, and as the CHAPTER XXIX. FOUND AND LOST I HAD thought the race for the Cross-Channel cup when first I had met the Conqueror had been exciting enough, but it was nothing to the race which now ensued. Mannering had realized his danger the mo- ment Withington’s blue light had been answered by the search-light from the Mascot. Then the Mascot's guns began to speak, and beyond and behind him I saw the water spout under the bursting shells. But his luck held true, none of them touched him. For my own part I did not attempt to try the effect of our Maxim, for, as both boats were travelling at top speed in a choppy sea, there would have been about as much chance of bringing down the moon as of getting a bullet home on the hull of the Conqueror. On this occasion the race only lasted a few minutes, but the excitement of a lifetime was packed into it. As we plunged through the waves the spray stung our faces like whips. Sometimes it would seem as if the boat was anxious to quit the water altogether as we leapt from crest to crest of the waves. Sanders was busy with the motor and I, well — I was running the 294 Found and Lost 295 brave little boat a fraction above safety point, and he knowing what I was doing was keeping his eyes glued to the engine to watch for the first appearance of any weakness. Gradually the Mist drew nearer the circle of light which surrounded the Conqueror. The Challenger was no longer burning a light, but I guessed that she, too, was not far off, for I had marked the direction in which she was being steered. Fearful lest we should collide with her, I bade our extra hand burn off a light. It was lucky he did so. In answer Withington also responded with a similar flare and I saw him about fifty yards to starboard, steering a course which in another ten seconds would have brought his boat athwart our course if nothing had been in the way. But the illumination revealed a more imminent danger than collision. Both boats were heading directly for the outlying reef of rocks which guarded the entrance to the channel we had explored in the afternoon, and had it not been for that timely light nothing could have saved us from destruction. So near were we that though I turned the Mist within her own length, the foam from the breakers was blown all over us, and the Challenger was hidden for a moment in a whirl of flying spindrift. Meanwhile the Conqueror, which we had thought to intercept, had found the mouth of the channel and passed us on the other side of the sheltering reef. It was only a matter of seconds. “Will you come?” I shouted to Sanders. “Have after the deevil,” he yelled in reply, and 296 The Cruise of the Conqueror in the glare of the light I saw that his face was dis- torted with rage. “After him quick an he canna escape.” The Mascot had followed, and the flashlight showed us the way as we rounded the point of the reef, and I headed the Mist for the break in the cliff. We went in on the crest of a huge wave at terrific speed, and the moment I felt, rather than saw, the walls of rock spring up beside us I cut out the engine, and with a firm grip on the wheel looked up for any indication that we should have reached the pool. But the dense blackness gave no sign, though I guessed that the haven was attained by the sudden subsidence of the water which, penned in the narrow passage, spread suddenly as it found room to expand again. I shouted to Sanders to burn another light. But the roar of the waves as they entered the passage made any mere human voice of none effect. The darkness, too, was so intense that I could not even explain my desires by a gesture. The Mist floated uneasily on the boiling pool, and I feared every moment that we should be hurled against the rocks. Even as I anticipated the danger it came upon us. I felt a thrill strike through the boat, and though I could hear nothing, yet I knew that the boat was dragging broadside on to the wall of cliff, and holding out my hand I pushed against the solid rock. The next instant, anticipating my desire, a match sputtered aft, the blue fire burst into flame, and I whipped out my revolver in the expectation of finding my enemy within a few yards. The flare il- 298 The Cruise of the Conqueror roared at the top of my voice. The order reached the man seated in the stern-sheets in spite of the hubbub, and he did his best to obey. Barely half a minute could have elapsed before another light was fired, but short as was the time, it was sufficient for all traces of the engineer to have been lost. I looked eagerly round, expecting to see him come to the surface, but there was no sign of him upon the smooth black swell which rose and fell, licking the granite walls of the pool hungrily. Withington must have observed San- ders's strange action, for he, too, burnt a light, and I could see him and his two companions closely scan- ning the surface of the waves. Those lights burned out. We lit others, and so again and again until hope finally left me, and by gesture I intimated to Withington my intention of returning to the open sea. I had no doubt in my own mind as to what had happened. The engineer's brain had evidently given way under the strain of the chase, and in a moment of madness he had made his fatal plunge. I began to feel the strain myself, and I knew that should I remain in the intense darkness of that rock-bound pool, I might have some difficulty in restraining myself from follow- ing Sanders's example. So I steered for the open Sea. Fortunately I was not compelled to trust to instinct to find the channel. Upon clearing the angle within which we had been sheltered, the brilliant beam from the search-light of the Mascot lay directly ahead, mark- 300 The Cruise of the Conqueror “Come,” he was saying, “four hours’ spell is suffi- cient for anybody, and there is work to be done to- day.” I jumped out of my berth on the instant, and the events of the preceding night came back to me. “Tell me,” I asked, “ did we really chase the Conqueror last night or have I dreamed it?” “It was no dream,” he replied. “I wish it had been, for then we should not have lost that engineer of yours. What happened to him? Did he go mad or what?” I explained exactly what he had said, and gave Withington my own impressions on the subject while I dressed. Nothing but madness, we concluded, could explain his action. “But I did not come here to discuss poor Sanders,” remarked Withington after exhausting the subject. “I came to inform you that we have visitors aboard.” “Who the deuce ” I began. He did not allow me to conclude my query. “Who else should it be but our young friend of the destroyer who dined with us the other night. We made him so welcome, apparently, that he has brought some others with him, for Merrick tells me that a second destroyer has just put in an appearance, and that there is a ship he makes out to be a cruiser in the offing.” “That means that we shall have a large enough party to make an exhaustive search of this stretch of coast,” I said. 302 The Cruise of the Conqueror “As if you need to ask me that,” he retorted with an unmistakable look of admiration in his frank, blue eyes. His attitude was too much for the girl's sense of humour, and she laughed outright while her com- panion swallowed a sigh and a big draught of coffee simultaneously as I came forward and took my seat at the table. However, he at once commenced an attack upon a cold tongue, which showed that his naval train- ing had at least taught him the advantage of making the most of all opportunities. I can guess that he was not too delighted at my appearance, but when Withing- ton joined us and we narrated to our visitor the story of what had occurred during the past twenty-four hours, he became as anxious to make an early search of the coast as we were ourselves. So keen was he that he did not waste any further time when once our story was finished, but returned immediately to his vessel in order to take the news to his superior officer, though he did not cease to bewail the cruiser’s arrival, which now was an additional calamity, since it would prevent him making an attempt at Mannering's cap- ture on his own account. On his departure Withington gave orders for the long-boat to be lowered, for in the exploration we proposed to undertake, the motor-boats would have been a useless encumbrance, and if the Conqueror should by any chance reach the open sea the guns of the four vessels now closing in on the mouth of the channel would of a certainty be able to give him the coup de grâce. Found and Lost 303 Our young friend was not long in giving the in- formation to his commanding officer, for by the time our boat had arrived off the mouth of the channel we saw the cruiser's boats being lowered away. We waited until they were near enough to steer their course by our own boat, and then entering we awaited their arrival in the now familiar pool. The weather had moder- ated and the sun was shining brightly, but it produced little effect in the gloomy spot where poor Sanders had put an end to his existence. Our crew were so affected by the atmosphere of the place that they sat silent at their thwarts, though, as a rule, they were as merry a set of men as ever pulled oars. The boats from the British ships soon followed us, and when all five of them gathered within the walls of the cliffs we started upon a methodical examination of every passage and cranny which could give harbourage to a dinghy even. There is no need to detail the experiences of that day. We searched every channel and cavern in the riven mass of rock in the hope and expectation that we should happen upon one by which the Conqueror had reached her still undiscovered lair. But we searched in vain. Part of the boats’ crews under Withington's guidance were landed and made perse- vering attempts to find the clue to his hiding-place from the summit of the cliff, with no better result. When evening came it was a very disappointed party which met at the inner bay. Both Withington and I were completely non- Found and Lost 305 moved crept out of the open face of the cliff, and gath- ering way shot across the pool to the sea entrance. “The Conqueror,” I cried, and my words were taken up and repeated as the oars of our men struck the water savagely. CHAPTER XXX. THE CAPTURE OF THE CONQUEROR As well might we have attempted to chase a phan- tom ship as to pursue the Conqueror with mere oars. But we did not think of that as we dashed down the channel to the sea. “We have him now to a surety,” said Withington. “Between us and the ships he cannot escape.” And directly we reached a position from which we could obtain a view of the open water and the flying Pirate, it seemed as if the latter had realized the hopelessness of flight. The Conqueror was steering straight for the Mascot, which lay a little to the east of the channel mouth, while her commander was standing erect and waving what appeared to be a white flag. “He surrenders, he surrenders,” shouted Withing- ton, ecstatically. For my own part I feared that Mannering was bent on some devilish scheme which would involve the Mascot and all aboard in the fate which awaited him- self, and as the Conqueror drew near her I could scarcely bear to look upon the yacht. But the motor- 306 308 The Cruise of the Conqueror sure of capturing the man Mannering? If ye leave him too long he might discover some chance of escaping forbye.” “Then you have seen him? Where is he?” I asked. “When I left him the noo,” he answered, “he was cursin’ with a freedom which would turn Owd Nick himself white with envy, for he was comin’ down to his boat just as I was movin' off through the open door, and havin’ forgotten his gun he just realized that he would not be able to return for it in time to stop me.” I let loose a flood of questions, but they were not answered then, for Withington said, abruptly: “We must return at once. Mannering may have a spare boat, and we must allow him no chance of escape.” Briefly we explained the position of affairs to the lieutenant in command of the cruiser’s men, and once more tumbling into our boat, we steered for the hiding-place where Mannering had baffled us for so long. At the last moment Sanders slipped into the boat. I was glad that he seated himself beside me, for I was greedy to hear the account of what had befallen him since he had so mysteriously vanished from sight beneath the waters of the pool. He did not waste any time before satisfying my curiosity. “It was like this, ye ken,” he said. “I was watch- ing the water, and I couldna' help noticing that there was a set in it as if the tide was running on through the rocks, and I thought that if I jumped in I should | The Capture of the Conqueror 309 very soon find out. So in I went, and I was hardly under before I was sorry that any such idea had come into my head, for the tide was running under the surface at a pace I hadna' dreamed of, and it caught me by the legs and dragged me down, and held me until I thought my breath would give out. But at last I felt my head bob out of the water. I hadna’ breath enough left to cry out for help, which was lucky as it turned out, for if I had I should for cer- tain not be here this minute. I was keeping myself afloat, wondering whereabouts the Mist might be, and hoping that you would show a light of some kind, when I saw a sort of a glow ahead. Then it occurred to me that the air was quiet, and cocking my ears out of the water I knew that I could not be in the same pool into which I had plunged from the Mist. I concluded at once that the tide had dragged me through some passage into another pool, and that I might be drifting straight into the place we had been searching for. The thought made me cautious about singing out for assistance. So after I had got back my breath and wiped the water out of my eyes I took a couple of strokes ahead, which brought me abreast of a big lump of rock, and I came plump into the light of as cheerful a looking fire as ever I saw in my life, and ye ken I am always fond of a good fire. But I didna' think it was wise to stop in the light of the blaze for long, since on one side of it stood the Pirate himself, and on the other side was that same ugly- faced German whom I first saw at Calais. Well, 310 The Cruise of the Conqueror having seen that much, I thought the next thing to do was to return an’ tell ye all about it, an’ so I turned and swam back into the darkness and made an attempt to dive under whatever the obstacle was which shut off the two pools from one another. But it was no manner of use trying. The tide was run- ning in like a mill-race, an’ so I made the best of a bad job, and felt my way along until I came to a spot where I found a hold for my hands and clambered up out of the water. I was fancying that I should be just able to find a resting-place until the tide turned, but instead of that I found that I had hit upon a smooth path about three feet above the water level. I easily guessed that it could only lead in the direction of the place where our friends were warming themselves, so I just sat down where I was and waited for some light on the subject. It was weary work, I can tell ye, Mr. Sutgrove, especially as I darena” close my eyes lest one or other of the villains should come along. But the dawn came at last, an’ as soon as I could see to pick my way I followed up the path until I came in sight of the fire. There was no chance of getting near it, unfortunately, for an arm of the pool lay between the place where I stood and the spot where Mannering was toasting his toes, and there was no way round. But it glad- dened my heart to see the Conqueror lying opposite me against a wooden landing-stage. By this time there was so much light that I feared lest I should be seen, and I thought I would go back and ascer- The Capture of the Conqueror 313 the cavern through which Sanders had made his escape. “Hullo!” said Withington. “Mannering has left his front door open and a light burning to guide us to his lair.” “It would be more like him to have arranged for a light by which to shoot us down as we enter,” I replied. “We will chance that,” said the American, as he bade the men give way. The same disregard of danger evidently animated the crews of the other boats, two of which reached the entrance to the inner pool before us, and made no pause before entering. We followed hard at their heels, and a dozen strokes brought us in sight of one of the grandest spectacles upon which I have ever gazed. From the mouth of a cavern on the left of us there roared up a huge body of flame licking the side of the cliff for a hundred feet at least. The heat was so great that I was compelled to shelter my face with my hands to prevent my skin being blistered. “By Jove!” said Withington. “He must have fired his store of petrol. The sooner we are out of this the better.” The deed followed the word, and none too soon. The flaming spirit was already pouring over the brink of the rock, and as the boats raced back to the en- trance, the fire followed after, spreading on the face of the water as rapidly as the boats could move. For- tunately the passage formed a natural draught, so 314 The Cruise of the Conqueror that the flames were forced inwards instead of out- wards, or the boats would never have reached safety. I thought that we might even be compelled to retreat to the open sea, but such was not the case. The fire burned itself out with extraordinary rapidity. One moment the whole of the inner pool was a lake of liquid fire, the next it was black as the grave, heavy with the odour of burning petrol, the surface of the water moving sluggishly under a sheeting of thick oily sculin. - Then we entered again. We had no fear of any- one disputing our entrance, for nothing human could have withstood the fiery blast which we had wit- nessed. “He has escaped,” cried Withington. There was a note of infinite regret in his voice. “He must have had wings like a bird or fins like a fish, then,” replied Sanders, “and as I did not see that he was gifted with either I’m no thinking that I would not rather be hanged than escape in that same fashion.” Is there anything more to tell? I think not. It goes without saying that we did not leave the spot until we had searched minutely every nook and corner for traces of Mannering and his companion. But of him or of his belongings we found no sign. The fire had licked the cavern which had been his dwelling- place as bare as the rock face. There was nothing to show that either of them had reached the beach upon The Capture of the Conqueror 315 which we had landed, and as the tide was on the ebb I do not think that it would have been possible for any man to have stemmed it in the rocky channel which led to the bay. Nevertheless, we landed parties and scoured the country for miles around. But from no direction did we ascertain that any one had been seen who would in the slightest degree answer to the description of either of the two pirates. What afforded more grief to the sailors than even Mannering's disappearance was the fact that the Pirate's hoard had also vanished. The search for this was still more unremitting than the search for definite proof of Mannering's death. Every loose piece of rock in the neighbourhood was overturned, but neither of the gold which he had taken from the Dunster Castle, nor of the diamonds he had obtained from the same source, was there the slightest trace. A year has now elapsed, and the search for the treasure has been made by others—by many others, but without result. Amongst the searchers, I have been informed, the most persistent is the respectable director of the dia- mond mine, whose despair at being despoiled led him to make the personal attack upon Mannering on the bridge of the Union Castle liner. I have recently heard, indeed, that he has bought the piece of land on that northern Spanish coast on the foreshore of which lies the entrance to the rock-bound pools, and that a notice now appears at the entrance warning off tres- passers in five different languages. To me this seems a really touching example of Hebraic optimism. 2 Z. C. PAGE AAWD COMPAAVY'.S. An Enemy to the King. (60th thousand.) From the “Recently Discovered Memoirs of the Sieur de la Tournoire.” Illustrated by H. De M. Young. Library 12mo, cloth . - - - - $1.5o An historical romance of the sixteenth century, describing the adventures of a young French nobleman at the Court of Henry III., and on the field with Henry of Navarre. “A stirring tale.”—Detroit Free Press. “A royally strong piece of fiction.”—Boston Ideas. “Interesting from the first to the last page.”—Brooklyn Eagle. “Brilliant as a play; it is equally brilliant as a romantic novel.”— Philadelphia Press. The Continental Dragoon: A Romance of PHILIPSE MANor House IN 1778. (43d thousand.) Illus- trated by H. C. Edwards. Library 12mo, cloth - - - - - . $1.5o A stirring romance of the Revolution, the scene being laid in and around the old Philipse Manor House, near Yonkers, which at the time of the story was the central point of the so- called “neutral territory” between the two armies. The Road to Paris: A Story of AdventurE. (25th thousand.) 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A new edition, with the addi. tion of three new stories, and ten illustrations by Charles Livingston Bull. Library 12mo, cloth, uncut edges. - - - $1.5o “Throughout the volume runs that subtle questioning of the cruel, predatory side of nature which suggests the general title of the book. In certain cases it is the picture of savage nature raven- ing for food — for death to preserve life; in others it is the secret symbolism of woods and waters prophesying of evils and misadven- tures to come. All this does not mean, however, that Mr. Rober. is either pessimistic or morbid — it is nature in his books after all, wholesome in her cruel moods as in her tender.” — The Mew York Zndependent. LIST OF F/CTION 5 WORKS OF LILIAN BELL- Hope Loring. Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill. Library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover . - - $1.5o “Lilian Bell's new novel, “Hope Loring,' does for the American girl in fiction what Gibson has done for her in art. “Tall, slender, and athletic, fragile-looking, yet with nerves and sinews of steel under the velvet flesh, frank as a boy and tender and beautiful as a woman, free and independent, yet not bold—such is “Hope Loring,' by long odds the subtlest study that has yet been made of the American girl.” — Dorothy Dix, in the Mew York American. Abroad with the Jimmies. with a portrait, in duogravure, of the author. Library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover . - - $1.5o “A deliciously fresh, graphic book. The writer is so original and unspoiled that her point of view has value.”— Mary Aartwell Catherwood. “Full of ozone, of snap, of ginger, of swing and momentum.”— Chicago Evening Post. “. . . Is one of her best and cleverest novels . . . filled to the brim with amusing incidents and experiences. 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By Upton Sinclair, author of “ King Midas,” etc. Library 12mo, cloth decorative . - - - $1.5o In this book Mr. Sinclair has written a satire of the first order — one worthy to be compared with Swift's biting tirades against the follies and abuses of mankind. “A telling satire on politics and society in modern New York.” — Philadelphia Public Ledger. “The book has a living vitality and is a strong depiction of political New York.”—Bookseller, Mewsdealer, and Stationer. The Silent Maid. By FREDER1c W. PANGBoRN. Large 16mo, cloth decorative, with a frontispiece by Frank T. Merrill . - - - - - - - $1.oo A dainty and delicate legend of the brave days of old, of sprites and pixies, of trolls and gnomes, of ruthless barons and noble knights. “The Silent Maid" herself, with her strange bewitchment and wondrous song, is equalled only by Undine in charm and mystery. - “Seldom does one find a short tale so idyllic in tone and so fanci- ful in motive. 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By MoRLEY Roberts, author of “The Colossus,” “The Fugi- tives,” “Sons of Empire,” etc. Library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . - $1.5o This volume contains half a dozen stories of sea life, – fresh, racy, and bracing, — all laid in America, – stories full of rollicking, jolly, sea-dog humor, tempered to the keen edge of wit. “If any one writes better sea stories than Mr. Roberts, we don't know who it is; and if there is a better sea story of its kind than this it would be a joy to have the pleasure of reading it.”— New Pork Sun. “To read these stories is a tonic for the mind; the stories are gems, and for pith and vigor of description they are unequalled.”— AVew York Commercial Advertiser. “There is a hearty laugh in every one of these stories.”— The A'eader. “Mr. Roberts treats the life of the sea in a way that is intensely real and intensely human.”— Milwaukee Sentinel. “The author knows his sea men from A to Z.” — Philadelphia AVorth American. I2 A. C. 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