Part 4 (2/2)
”Eh, what?”
”That fellow we found hanging on to the wire rope, we didn't put him on board the destroyer.”
”No,” agreed Fosterd.y.k.e, grimly. ”We didn't. I saw to that. Unless I'm much mistaken our unwanted supernumerary can and must give us certain information that will rather astonish us. I'll see him later on, by Jove!”
Kenyon nodded knowingly. Evidently Fosterd.y.k.e had learnt something. However, as far as he, Kenyon, was concerned, other things of a more pressing nature demanded his attention--food and sleep.
At eight o'clock Fosterd.y.k.e ordered his involuntary guest to be brought before him.
”There's something fishy about the breaking adrift business,” he observed to Bramsdean as the two sat at a table in the after-cabin awaiting Enrico's appearance.
”Where's Jackson? We'll want him. No, don't disturb Kenyon; he had a pretty sticky time.”
”More than you imagine, sir,” added Peter, and proceeded to tell the baronet the part Kenneth had played in the aerial rescue of the imperilled Rock Scorpion.
”Kenyon didn't say a word about it,” he added on the conclusion of the narrative. ”He was as mute as an oyster over it all. Frampton and Collings told me. It was----”
A knock on the cabin door interrupted Bramsdean's explanation.
”Come in!” exclaimed Fosterd.y.k.e.
In answer to the invitation entered Leading Hand Jackson, followed in single file by one of the crew, Enrico Jaures, and two other members of the ”Golden Hind's” company.
The Scorp was still labouring under the effects of his narrow escape. He looked, to quote Bramsdean's words, ”as if the stuffing had been knocked out of him.”
Fosterd.y.k.e's handling of the situation was a bold one. Without any preliminaries, without even asking the fellow's name, he demanded sternly: ”How much did Count Karl von Sinzig promise you for last night's work?”
Jaures gave an involuntary start, but almost immediately relapsed into his imperturbably pa.s.sive att.i.tude. Then with a slight shrug of his shoulders he replied: ”Me no spik Englis.”
”Try again,” said Fosterd.y.k.e, contracting his bushy eyebrows and looking straight at the man. ”All I can say is that if you don't speak English it's a case of won't, not can't.”
”Me no spik Englis,” reiterated Jaures.
Without speaking, Fosterd.y.k.e looked straight at the fellow for a full thirty seconds. During that period Enrico attempted three times to meet the searching gaze of his inquisitor.
”Now!” exclaimed the baronet at length.
Enrico Jaures maintained silence.
Fosterd.y.k.e slowly and deliberately unstrapped his wristlet watch and placed it on the table.
”I give you thirty seconds,” he said in level tones. ”Thirty seconds in which to make up your mind either to answer or refuse to answer my question. Might I remind you that we are now eight thousand feet above the sea, and it is a long drop. Jackson, will you please remove that hatch?”
”Of course the Old Man was only kiddin',” remarked Jackson when he related what had transpired to his companions after the affair was over; ”but, bless me, even I thought he meant to do the dirty sweep in. He looked that stern, that it put the wind up the bloke straight away.”
Absolutely disciplined, the Leading Hand obeyed orders promptly. Throwing back the aluminium cover in the centre of the cabin floor, he revealed to the gaze of the thoroughly terrified Jaures a rectangular opening six feet by four. Far below, glittering in the suns.h.i.+ne, was the blue Mediterranean.
”Five seconds more!” announced Fosterd.y.k.e, calmly.
Of the occupants of the after cabin Enrico Jaures now seemed to be the least interested in the proceedings. His furtive glances had given place to an expression of lofty detachment, as if he were utterly bored by the whole transaction. Bramsdean found himself deciding that either the fellow was an imbecile or else he was a past master in the art of dissimulation.
”Time!” declared Fosterd.y.k.e.
Enrico Jaures positively beamed.
”Me no spik Englis,” he babbled.
Sir Reginald eyed the accused sternly, but even his piercing glance seemed of no avail. The Rock Scorp continued to smile inanely.
”Take him away,” ordered Fosterd.y.k.e with asperity.
He waited till the door had closed upon the involuntary guest, and then gave a deprecatory shrug.
”The fellow's scored this time, Bramsdean,” he remarked, ”but I'll get to windward of him yet.”
CHAPTER XI.
--”WITH INTENT”
”Where are we now?” enquired Kenyon on returning to the navigation-room to relieve his chum as officer of the watch.
It was now twelve o'clock. Bramsdean had just ”shot the sun” and was reading off the degrees, minutes, and seconds from the arc of the s.e.xtant.
”Almost over Algiers, old thing,” he replied, pointing to the glaring, sun-baked Algerian coast. ”Hark!”
He held up his hand and inclined his head sideways. Above the ba.s.s hum of the aerial propellers came the distant report of a gun.
”Reminds a fellow of old times when the Archies got busy,” remarked Kenyon.
”Our friends the French are evidently treating us to a salute to help us on our weary way,” rejoined Peter. ”Goodness only knows how we are to return it. We can't give gun for gun.”
He focussed his gla.s.ses on the white buildings three thousand feet below. The whole of the water-front of Algiers was packed with figures with upturned faces--Frenchmen, Algerines, Arabs, and Nubians--all frantically waving to the huge airs.h.i.+p as she sped eastwards.
In ten minutes the ”Golden Hind” had left the capital of France's African possessions far astern. Unless anything untoward occurred, another four hours would bring her within sight of Malta.
”You might cast your eye over the signal log-book before you take on,” remarked Bramsdean.
Kenyon did so. Evidently the wireless operator had been kept busily employed, for there were dozens of messages wis.h.i.+ng the ”Golden Hind” bon voyage. But amongst them were two of a different nature. One announced that an American airs.h.i.+p ”Eagle,” under the command of Commodore Theodore Nye, had left Tampa Town bound for Colon, followed by a supplementary message that the ”Eagle” had left the Panama Ca.n.a.l zone and was last sighted flying in a westerly direction. Making allowance for the difference in New York and Greenwich times, both the ”Golden Hind” and her Yankee rival had started practically simultaneously from their respective points of departure for the actual race.
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