Part 21 (1/2)
”We are pa.s.sengers,” said the Commander-in-Chief, ”and, as my friend says, we are extremely anxious to leave the s.h.i.+p and go aboard your vessel.”
”That's all very well,” he answered curtly, ”but I don't think it will do. The skipper wouldn't hear of it, don't you know. But for the present, what are your names?”
Here was the opportunity for which I had been waiting.
”This gentleman is the Right Honourable Benjamin Castellan, Secretary of State for the Colonies,” I said, pointing to Castellan, ”this is the Commander-in-Chief of the British Army, and my friend on your left is Sir William Woller, who some little time ago was appointed Commander-in-Chief of the British forces in South Africa.”
”Stow that,” the officer answered angrily. ”You'd better not play the fool with me. What do you take me for?”
At the same time I noticed that he looked curiously from one to the other of us as if he could not altogether trust his own judgment. Then he added: ”You know very well that the four gentlemen you speak of are dead.”
”You will find, my friend, when you come to know us better, that there is likely to be a difference of opinion on that score,” said the Commander-in-Chief quietly. ”My own is that they are very much alive.”
”Perhaps it would be as well for one of us to write a note to the Captain,” Castellan put in. Then turning to the lieutenant, he continued: ”I think it would be better for you to believe our story, my friend. What you have been told, as you will admit when you have heard all we have to say, is quite correct. That we are the people in question I shall soon hope to convince you. Will you accompany us to the saloon, or do you prefer to remain here?”
He came with us to the cuddy, and when we had found paper and ink in the captain's stateroom, Castellan sat down and wrote a note to the commander of the s.h.i.+p. This was despatched by the boat that had brought the lieutenant, and in less than half-an-hour Captain Breatford was ascending the steps of the accommodation ladder. In the meantime we had made ourselves as presentable as possible, and had quite succeeded in convincing the lieutenant of the truth of our story. He was profuse in his apologies for his manner towards us, but we bade him think no more about it. He might very well have been forgiven for not having recognised us.
I must leave you to imagine the captain's surprise at finding us in such a strange position. He prophesied a tremendous sensation in England when our story should become known.
”You are quite certain, I suppose, that it was off Achil Head that you parted company with the yacht?” he asked when he had heard our adventures.
”Quite certain,” I replied. ”But if you would care to convince yourself on that score, and will come with me to the chart-room, I will show you the chart worked out by the officer of the watch up to noon yesterday.”
He did so, took certain notes, and then invited us to accompany him to the wars.h.i.+p. The necessary officers and crew had already arrived to take possession of our own vessel, and when all was ready, we bade the old tub farewell. She had been the theatre of one of the most singular adventures of the Century, and, but for the fact of my having obtained possession of that gimlet, might now have been lying at the bottom of the ocean, with us locked up in her.
On board the man-of-war a consultation was held, and as a result the captain decided to set off at once in search of the mysterious yacht, and afterwards to land us at a port whence we could easily reach London.
”In the meantime, gentlemen, permit me to offer you the best hospitality in my power,” he said. ”I think, in being permitted to rescue you, I should deem myself the most fortunate man in the British Navy to-day. To rescue four such gentlemen is not a chance that falls to a man's lot very often.”
Needless to say we quite agreed with him.