The excitement that ensued was intense. There was a rush for the spot by visitors, officers and crew. A chorus of screams from the feminine visitors, a quick word of command, and an excited jumble of English and Portuguese.
The crowd suddenly swayed, and a man in civilian clothing—a suit with a loud check pattern—was seen to savagely force his way to the ladder leading to the after deck.
A score of hands clutched at him, but he eluded them and gained the top. As he paused for a second, bareheaded, disheveled, breathing heavily, a cry came from the frantic mob below.
“It’s the Englishman!”
“Yes, the Englishman!” he flung back, fiercely. “I defy you, slaves of a royal master. I have tried to strike a blow for your liberty, hounds, a blow for the world’s liberty, and have failed. I——”
A bullet whistled past his head, but he never flinched. As the crowd below surged up the ladder eager to tear him limb from limb, he retreated slowly and with magnificent courage to the railing.
As the foremost of his pursuers reached the deck, he sent a curse at them, then turned and sprang over the side into the swiftly moving waters of the Tagus.
“After him! Quick! Five thousandmilreisto the man who captures him alive!”
These words, in broken English, came from one of the royal suite.
A rush was made for the side, and eager glances were cast down toward the river. A dozen excited sailors and cadets recklessly leaped into the water and began a search, but nothing was seen of the desperate fugitive.
The Tagus in the immediate vicinity of the practice ship was thronged with vessels of all classes, attracted to the spot by the royal visit, and it was observed at once that the assassin’s chances for escape, if he was an expert swimmer, were good.
There was commotion on board the neighboring craft, and many false alarms, but no certain sign of the Englishman’s presence.
When the excited crowd on theMonongahelaturned inboard again, they found a group of officers and cadets surrounding Clif, who was calmly standing in the center while the surgeon fastened a temporary bandage round a bleeding cut in his right arm.
The king had been hurried to the cabin by his suite and Captain Brookes. A moment later he emerged and joined the group surrounding Clif.
“I want to see the brave American boy who saved my life,” he insisted. “It was he who foiled that assassin and he shall have my heartfelt thanks.”
“But, your majesty,” implored one of his military staff, in Portuguese, “there may be other wretches on board. They may make another attempt on you.”
“Then keep every one at a distance,” was the retort. “Act rather than talk. It is strange you and your comrades did not prevent that man from making his attempt. What has been done to capture him?”
“Word was sent ashore at once, sire. A launch is even now on the way with instructions to the chief of police and the general in charge of the district. The assassin will be in prison before dark.”
“See that he is!” exclaimed the king, imperiously.
Turning to Clif he extended both his hands and added in excellent English:
“My brave lad, I thank you. I deplore the wound you have received in my service.”
“It is nothing, sir,” replied Clif, simply.
“A king’s life nothing?” smiled his majesty. “Ah, that is a democratic principle. It is American. I admire your cleverness and bravery. You will hear from me.”
He turned away, after learning from the surgeon that Clif’s wound was a mere scratch, and, surrounded by his suite, left the ship.
A wild cheer greeted him as he entered the barge, and there was every sign of joy at his escape.
As soon as the barge was clear of theMonongahela, Captain Brookes, ever mindful of his duty, gave orders to man yards and fire a second salute.
In the meantime the search for the Englishman had been prosecuted with vigor.
The news that a reward of five thousandmilreis, about six thousand dollars, had been offered for the fugitive, dead or alive, had spread like wildfire.
In a remarkably short space of time the surface of theriver in front of the city was literally covered with boats, large and small.
As the minutes passed and no sign of the Englishman was discovered, the belief that he had perished became prevalent.
When Clif went forward after an interview with the captain and officers of theMonongahela—an interview that caused his heart to beat with unaccustomed rapidity—he found an ovation awaiting him.
He tried to escape, and dodged down the forward ladder for that purpose, but a number of new fourth class cadets, headed by the lanky Joy, captured him, and he was borne in triumph about the decks.
“Hurray for the Yankee who saved a king,” shrieked little Nanny. “Three cheers and—and a whole cageful of tigers.”
The cheers were given and the tigers, too, but in subdued tones. It is not considered the proper thing to make much noise on board an American war vessel.
“You make one good speech now,” insisted Trolley, grinning broadly.
“Not much,” was Clif’s flat refusal. “I draw the lineat that. What’s all this row about, anyway? One would think war had been declared at the very least.”
“Something more important than that, dear boy,” drawled Toggles. “I’ll wager anything the news is being cabled about the world this very minute. And the name of Clifford Faraday, new fourth class plebe, function, and rescuer of kings in general, will be in everybody’s mouth before dinner. Clif, your fortune is made. I see you Lord High Muck-a-Muck of Portugal before you are a day older.”
Clif laughed carelessly.
“I am content to remain a cadet in the United States Naval Academy,” he replied. “That’s honor enough for me.”
“What did the girl say?” asked Nanny, slyly. “I saw you talking to her after your great act.”
“If you want to know, youngster, she asked me to tea to-night and I accepted the invitation. She also said she would like to have me bring another cadet.”
A hubbub broke out at once. Every plebe within hearing was eager to be selected.
Clif finally decided to take Joy, much to the disappointment of the others. The liberty party was calledaway at one o’clock, and, shortly after that hour, the two chums found themselves ashore.
They little suspected as they carelessly walked toward the main plaza that they were destined to experience some very thrilling adventures before they again saw the oldMonongahela.
The pedestrians in the streets taken by Clif and Joy little thought as they glanced carelessly at the two cadets that the sturdy youth with the intelligent, manly face was he who had saved their beloved ruler, Dom Carlos the First, from death that day.
It was well for Clif’s peace of mind and comfort that this was true, and he inwardly rejoiced thereat.
The city was in an uproar. All Lisbon seemed to be hunting for the fugitive and hoping against hope that he had escaped from the river.
The large reward was not the sole cause of this feverish activity. The people far and wide respected and loved their ruler and they thirsted more for the assassin’s blood than for the fortune his body represented.
The streets and plazas were filled with excited groups discussing the event. Platoons of mounted police and companies of soldiers kept the air ringing with the tread of galloping hoofs.
“It takes something like an attack on the king to stir up these people,” said Joy. He added, with a sigh: “Isn’t it enough to make a peaceful man sorrow to see so much strife and contention and—and pomp of war? Woe!—woe!”
“Oh, shut up, you fraud,” laughed Clif. “There isn’t a plebe in the academy, nor a cadet, who likes fighting more than you do. You would rather fight than eat.”
The two cadets spent some time looking about the city, then they engaged a carriage and ordered the driver to take them to the suburb in which lived the Windoms.
“This has been a day of events, chum,” remarked Clif as he leaned back in the vehicle. “Who would ever take that blooming ‘haw’ Englishman to be an anarchist, and one of the very worst type, too. Why, I guyed him for half an hour this morning and thought all the time he was a fool.”
“He was a fool,” replied Joy, grimly.
“Yes, otherwise he would never have tried such a preposterous trick. I wonder if he came here to make the attempt on Dom Carlos’ life?”
“Like as not. I read in a paper the other day that considerable activity existed in anarchistic circles. Sortof getting ready to slay a few monarchs, I suppose. They drove a lot of ’em from Paris and London. Perhaps this J. Chesire-Cheshire Cate was one of them.”
“No doubt,” yawned Clif, stretching his arms.
“D’ye think he was drowned?”
“Yes. He remained under water too long. Small loss to the community at large. I guess Miss Windom won’t wear mourning. She couldn’t bear the sight of him.”
“I don’t blame her. Was he a friend of the old man?”
“No. Merely a business acquaintance, I believe. Said he was looking for a certain-sized pearl to finish a necklace. Mr. Windom is a collector of pearls, you know. He has a fortune in them.”
Joy sighed.
“Wonder if the pearls go with the girl,” he sighed.
“Let’s talk on some sensible subject,” retorted Clif, shortly.
It was within an hour of dusk when they finally reached the pretty villa occupied by the Windoms.
The house was situated in the center of an extensive park, well-kept, and shaded by fine old trees. There was a small lodge at the gate, presided over by an elderly native, who admitted the cadets with every mark of respect.
He had evidently learned of Clif’s gallant deed that morning.
Juanita and her girl friend were awaiting them when they reached the house, and the cordial welcome the two lads received made them very happy.
Shortly before tea, Mr. Windom arrived from business. His greeting of Clif was characteristic of the man whose sole hobby in life was the collection of rare and valuable pearls.
“I am proud to know you, sir,” he exclaimed, wringing the lad’s hand. “Proud to know that you are a guest under my roof to-night. The whole city—the whole world, in fact—is ringing with your name. It was great, it was magnificent! It was a deed worthy of an American.
“But you are wanted at the palace, my dear boy. The king has sent messenger after messenger to theMonongahelain search of you. The old ship is fairly surrounded by steamers and tugs and small craft bearing bands of music and visitors. They call for you in vain. How can you remain in my poor house while the whole city is eager to see you.”
“If it is all the same to you, sir,” laughed Clif, “I’d much rather remain here.”
He glanced slyly at Juanita, and was gratified to see a soft, rosy flush overspread her fair cheeks.
Kindly-hearted Mr. Windom seemed greatly pleased at Faraday’s diplomatic answer, and carried both boys off to look at his pearls, which were kept in a small iron box in one corner of his private room.
After duly praising the really magnificent collection, some of which were almost priceless in value, Clif and Joy returned to the girls.
Three very pleasant hours were spent after tea, then the stern rules of naval discipline which had decreed that the ship must be gained before midnight, caused the two cadets to announce their departure.
Juanita and her friend were left at the house, but Mr. Windom hospitably started to see his guests to the gate.
“It is not often we have the honor of entertaining the rescuer of a ruling monarch, Mr. Faraday,” he smiled, as they walked down the tiled path. “So I must make the most of it.”
“I wish the king hadn’t come on board to be rescued,sir,” laughed Clif. “Especially in a country where so much—— Gorry!”
He stopped and placed both hands to his head. His cap had fallen to the ground, together with a large twig from a tree under which they had just passed.
“What is the matter?” asked Mr. Windom, hastily. “Are you hurt?”
“No. It startled me, that’s all,” replied Clif. “It was just a branch, rotten, I suppose.”
He picked up his cap and the twig, the latter more out of curiosity than anything else, and walked on after his companions.
“I must have those branches clipped again,” said Mr. Windom. “I did not know the trees were in such condition.”
Cordial farewells were exchanged at the gate, and the two cadets entered a carriage which had been ordered for that hour.
“I must be getting nervous,” laughed Clif as they rolled away from the villa. He held up the twig and added:
“When I jump on being struck by such as this, it is time——”
He ceased speaking abruptly, and uttered a lowwhistle. The carriage was passing close to a street lamp at that moment, and the light fell full upon the object in his hand.
“What’s up?” queried Joy.
“Do you see the end of this bit of wood?” replied Clif.
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s broken sharp and clean.”
“What of it.”
Clif glanced at the lanky plebe for a moment before replying, then he said, slowly:
“This twig is not rotten, chum. Neither did it break of its own weight.”
Joy showed more excitement than his wont.
“Then you think——” he began.
“There was some one up that tree,” finished Clif, impressively. “And he was there for no good.”
“Driver, let us out,” he added to the coachman.
The latter promptly drew up his horses and received his fare without a word of comment. He was too much accustomed to the vagaries of passengers in general to feel surprised.
A minute later Clif and Joy were hurriedly making their way back to the Windom villa.
“What do you think of it, chum?” asked Joy, as they rapidly retraced their steps.
“Hard to say,” replied Clif, briefly. “Perhaps a plot to rob the house.”
“Valuable pearls, eh?”
“Yes.”
“We may be mistaken after all,” persisted the lanky plebe. “Limbs have a habit of dropping from trees, you know. We would feel rather foolish if we aroused the house, and found only a cat or something like that. Miss Windom would laugh.”
“I’ll take the risk of that. I’d take any risk rather than see——”
“See the pearls stolen,” interrupted Joy, with an internal chuckle.
“Confound the pearls.”
“Oh, I meant girl. Excuse me.”
By this time the villa was reached. The extensivegrounds were separated from the street by a stone wall ten feet in height and surmounted by an ornamental iron railing.
Clif halted near one end of the wall and announced that he would try to enter there.
“No use arousing the lodge-keeper,” he added. “There may be nothing in it after all, and I don’t want to raise an alarm without proof. You can stay here and I’ll take a peep through the grounds on the quiet.”
Joy protested, but Clif was firm.
“Well, it won’t be long until I follow you,” muttered the former as he gave his friend a “boost” to the top of the wall. “You are altogether too fond of getting into danger. I’ll have to look after you, sonny.”
Clif found it an easy matter to drop into the grounds. Once inside he crouched close to the wall and took his bearings.
The night had assumed that depth of blackness usual before the rise of a full moon. The villa grounds presented one smudge of darkness with no alternating patches of light and shade. A cool breeze came from the direction of the river, bringing occasional burstsof noise and commotion from the central portion of the city.
Clif moved away from the wall, stepping carefully and with hands outstretched.
He had not covered a dozen feet when he plumped squarely into a depressed flower bed, and sprawled headlong, creating what seemed to him a prodigious clatter.
He lay quiet for a brief period, then not hearing any sounds, rose to his feet and once more moved in the general direction of the house.
He knew that somewhere in the blackness in front was the tree, but of its exact location he was ignorant.
Suddenly a twinkling light appeared through the gloom.
It gleamed for a moment, then vanished.
“Guess they have gone to bed,” muttered Clif.
The thought gave him confidence, and he proceeded with less caution. The cadet had no desire to be discovered prowling about the Windom grounds. Explanations would be awkward, especially if the robber up the tree proved to be some marauding cat or restless fowl.
Clif was not so positive in his belief now. The simple fact that the limb had been snapped from the tree was no longer a convincing evidence that somethingunderhand was in progress, and he proceeded in a half-hearted manner, almost decided to turn back.
Presently his feet touched gravel, and he knew that he had gained the path leading to the gate.
He paused and glanced about, at the same time listening intently. The only sounds came from Nature’s voice in the chirping of night insects and the distant murmuring of the city.
“Everything seems all right here,” muttered Clif. “I guess I was mistaken after all. I think I will——”
He ceased speaking and glanced upward, attracted by a rustling among the leaves of a tree under which he was standing.
Before he could move or cry out, a heavy object dropped swiftly upon him, and he sprawled headlong upon the path unconscious!
Out in the street Joy paced up and down impatiently in the shadows of the trees.
As the minutes passed without sign or sound of Clif, the lanky plebe became uneasy, and he reproached himself for permitting his friend to make the venture alone.
“There was no sense in it, anyway,” he muttered. “Icould have gone along just as well as not. If he don’t come out in three seconds, I’ll follow.”
Joy’s “three seconds” soon elapsed, and the plebe made good his word by boldly scaling the wall. This he did by propping a piece of wood against the brick barrier, thus gaining the ironwork at the top.
Dropping lightly upon the soft earth on the other side, he started across the grounds.
He had barely taken a dozen steps when there came through the night air a crash of splintering glass, then a scream of terror.
A moment of breathless silence, then a hoarse murmuring of excited voices, interspersed by occasional shouts. By that time Joy, armed with a stout stick, was bounding in the direction of the uproar.
The intense blackness of the night had given way to a subdued light from the rising moon, whose silvery rim was even then showing above the city.
Suddenly, outlined in this faint illumination, Joy saw the figure of a man dash away from the house.
As the plebe turned to follow, shouting at the top of hisvoice, another figure rose up in front of the fugitive and grappled with him.
The two were struggling fiercely when Joy reached the spot. There was light enough for him to recognize in one of the combatants his chum, Clif.
That was enough for the brave lad. Calling out encouragingly, he sprang upon the back of the other.
The cadets found their hands full. The stranger fought like one possessed. He bit and kicked and rained blows upon his antagonists, but they clung to him with unswerving courage until he at last sank to the ground exhausted.
“Bring a rope here, quick!” gasped Clif, as Mr. Windom, accompanied by a number of servants, ran up. “Bring a rope to tie this fellow. We’ve got a prize.”
“My pearls, my pearls!” wailed the old merchant, wringing his hands. “They are gone. I tried to save them, but the robber——”
“We’ve got the robber all right,” interrupted Clif, cheerily. “And there are your pearls over yonder.”
He inclined his head toward an indistinct object lyingupon the path. Mr. Windom snatched it up with a cry of joy. It was a bag containing his priceless collection.
The servants returned with a rope and several lanterns. Several of the men assisted the cadets to bind the prisoner, then he was turned over with his face to the light.
Cries of amazement came from all save Clif.
“Great guns!” gasped Joy, “it’s the Englishman! It’s J. Chesire-Cheshire Cate!”
“The would-be assassin!” cried Clif. “Seize him!”
There was a desperate struggle, in the midst of which several neighbors and two mounted policemen arrived.
It was decided not to reveal the identity of the prisoner, for this would have aroused the citizens to the fury of a lawless mob.
So the would-be assassin was locked up as a common burglar.
From Juanita, Clif and Joy learned that it was she who had discovered the presence of the Englishman. She had gone into the library for something, after her father had retired, and had been just in time to see a strange man tiptoeing from her father’s apartments.
She screamed, and the intruder made a dash for the nearest window, and leaped boldly through the sash. It was plain the desperate man had worked quickly.
Clif explained the arousing of his suspicions by the broken tree branch, then he and Joy took their departure.
It was long after midnight before they reached the ship, and they had already been marked in the log as “absent without leave.”
Clif’s story speedily caused the erasing of the entry, and on every hand he and Joy were hailed as heroes of the first water.
The authorities failed to get any account from Cate of how he had escaped from the river. The man was locked up in a dungeon, and there remained a long time.
During the balance of the stay at Lisbon, Clif was made a social lion to such an extent that he was glad when the announcement came that the training ship would up anchor and away for the island of Madeira. Clif hated to part with Juanita, but she promised to write often, and with this he had to be content.
As the gallant oldMonongahelaleft the port of Lisbon, all the river craft saluted her with a prodigious din of whistles and cannon shots. It was a time never to be forgotten, and it must be admitted that the plebes enjoyed it immensely.
Transcriber’s Note:Obvious typographic errors have been corrected.
Transcriber’s Note:Obvious typographic errors have been corrected.