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