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