Part 10 (1/2)

”Do you happen to know, Smith”--Phillips asked his question abruptly--”whether any one has been living in the palace lately? Last year, for instance, or at any time since the last king was murdered there?”

”Murdered, sir, how horrible! Was it long ago, sir?”

The a.s.sa.s.sination of King Otto had been mentioned, even discussed, a dozen times while Smith was waiting at table. Very good servants--and Smith was one of the best--are able, it is believed, to abstract their minds from the conversation of their masters, will actually hear nothing of what is said in their presence. Yet it seemed to Phillips as if Smith were overdoing his pose of ignorance.

”It was years ago, I believe. What I want to know is whether any one has been living in the palace since.”

”Don't know, sir, I'm sure. Never been here before till I arrived with you, sir. Would you care for me to make inquiries? Some of the natives would be sure to know.”

”Ask that patriarch,” said Phillips, ”Stephanos or whatever he's called. Ask him next time you take him out for a row at six o'clock in the morning.”

He knew that he had startled Smith once when he referred to the seagulls' eggs. He hoped to take him off his guard this time by showing that he had watched the whole of the morning row. But this time Smith was not to be caught. He made no sign whatever that anything unexpected had been said. He was not looking at Phillips. His eyes were fixed on the palace.

”I beg pardon, sir,” he said after a slight pause, ”but perhaps we ought to leave the deck, to go below. Seems to me, sir, that the Queen is going to bathe. She mightn't like it, sir, if she thought we were here watching her.”

The Queen was descending steps clad in a scarlet bathing dress. It is not likely that she would have resented the presence of spectators on the deck of a steamer nearly half a mile distant. Nor, indeed, is it likely that Kalliope would have been seriously embarra.s.sed, though she saw no sense in wearing clothes of any kind when she intended to bathe. But Mr. Phillips was a young man and modest. One fleeting glimpse of Kalliope poised ready for her plunge was sufficient for him. He turned and left the deck. Smith was already busy with his cooking.

CHAPTER X

The peculiarity of Smith's proceedings highly stimulated the curiosity of Mr. Phillips. The envelope in his pocket helped him to the belief that he held the clue of an exciting mystery. He pondered the matter while he shaved. He was dull company at breakfast because he could not get it out of his head. He made up his mind at last to confide his vague suspicions to Mr. Donovan. This was a difficult decision to arrive at. He would have much preferred to unravel his mystery himself, to go to the Queen with evidence completely sufficient to condemn a whole band of conspirators. But he saw no chance of getting any further in his investigations. Smith's morning expedition remained obstinately unconnected with the torn envelope. A sense of loyalty to his employers combined with devotion to the Queen decided him to tell Mr. Donovan all he knew.

The work of unloading the _Ida_ went on briskly all the morning. Mr.

Donovan sat, remote from the turmoil, on his balcony. Mr. Phillips, seeking a moment when Smith was busy elsewhere, climbed to the balcony. Mr. Donovan welcomed him.

”Sit right down,” he said. ”There's another chair knocking about somewhere. Take a cigar.”

Mr. Phillips hauled a deck chair from the suns.h.i.+ne into the shade and stood leaning over the back of it.

”This island,” said Mr. Donovan, ”seems likely to be restful. Once we're through with the job of landing our trunks we shall be able to settle down and just stay put. I don't say but it's pleasant for a man like me who's worked some in his time to sit here and watch other people sweating----”

He waved his hand towards the islanders, who staggered up the steps under their loads. He included with a sweeping gesture two boats which had just left the s.h.i.+p's side. The day was exceedingly hot. All these men were certainly sweating. The clanking and rattling of the donkey engines were plainly audible across the water. The engineman was probably sweating too. Captain Wilson, standing erect in the full blaze of the sun on the steamer's fore-deck, cannot possibly have been cool. Mr. Donovan sighed with satisfaction.

”I don't deny that it's pleasant,” he said, ”kind of aggravates the sense of restfulness; but for real calm give me a country where n.o.body works at all. That's what I am looking forward to. That's why I reckon this island is going to suit me.”

”Mr. Donovan,” said Phillips, ”there's a matter I want to speak to you about. I daresay there's nothing in it; but I can't help feeling----”

Mr. Phillips' hand went to his breast pocket. He clutched the torn envelope.

”Here's something I picked up the day before yesterday,” he said.

Smith stepped suddenly between him and Mr. Donovan. Smith was a hard worker, and a loud shouter when shouting was desirable. He was also, as Phillips knew, a quiet mover when he chose. He held a tray in his hand with two gla.s.ses on it. He handed one to Mr. Donovan and the other to Phillips.

”Beg pardon, sir,” he said, ”but there's some cases of books come ash.o.r.e, sir. I thought you'd like to arrange about them yourself, sir, seeing as how I don't understand libraries.”

He spoke to Phillips. He did not expect Mr. Donovan to arrange anything.

”You're young, Phillips,” said Mr. Donovan. ”According to the prophets and other wise men it's a good thing to be young. I'm getting on for sixty, but there are compensations. I don't feel called on to see after things. I don't have to toil any. Smith!”

”Yes, sir.”