"And what is that? It is just as well we should see them all."
"It is the possibility that these English or Americans—you know how quick they are at all practical methods, pig-headed and all as they are at diplomacy—have, by some means or other, guessed that the French and Russian Polar expeditions have started at rather a suspicious time; I mean just when the Storage Works—these wonderful works, which are to light the world by electricity for a few pence an hour, and give us displays of theAurora borealis, just as we have fireworks at public fêtes, and all the rest of it—have been completed. Now that, if you like, would be dangerous; for in such delicate work as ours success depends on surprise. Still, as I say, it is hardly possible."
"Practically impossible, I should agree with you, my dear Sophie," said the count, making the greatest mistake of his diplomatic career; "practically impossible. What do they know? What can they suspect?"
"Unless—unless," said Sophie, suddenly, clenching her hands, "our good friend Adelaide de Condé, who, I tell you, papa, is in love with Shafto Hardress, if woman ever was in love with man, unless she has hinted at the real meaning of these expeditions. Yes; that is a danger which, I admit, I have not counted."
"Yes, yes; I think I see what you mean," replied the count; "she is a Frenchwoman, but her only interest in the destiny of France consists in the restoration of the House of Bourbon to power; still, being a Frenchwoman, and in love, as you believe, she would also do anything for the sake of the man she loves, even to the ruin of her own hopes. Finally, being on this supposition the rival of Miss Vandel, she would stop at nothing to prove her devotion to him; and, if she did as you suggest, Sophie, it would be a very formidable condition of affairs indeed."
"Then, papa," she replied, coming and laying her hand on his shoulder, "do you not see that that is all the greater reason why this scheme of ours must be carried through? You see that Adelaide de Condé may herself become a source of the greatest danger; but when we have not only her, but Miss Vandel and the man they are both in love with, as well as the two papas and Lady Olive, completely in our power, when, for example, we could land them all on one of those drifting ice-floes, to float away to somewhere where no one but the seals and bears would know what had become of them, the game would be in our hands to play as we please."
"My dear Sophie," said the count, laying his hand upon hers, "I am delighted to see that you have the courage of your convictions. And now, it is very late, or, rather, early, and I think you may as well go to bed and dream of success, for you have convinced me that failure is, to all intents and purposes, impossible."
As Sophie Valdemar stole quietly away to bed Clifford Vandel was finishing a long cable dispatch in cipher to Doctor Lamson, giving him a complete account, so far as he knew, of all that had been taking place in Europe during the last few weeks, and concluding with the words: "I have good reason to believe that the supposed French and Russian Polar expeditions, which will be in your latitude in a few weeks, are really intended for the capture or destruction of the Storage Works; so take every possible precaution against attack or surprise."
CHAPTER XV
While all this plotting and counter-plotting had been going on in England and Europe, and France, thanks to what some might call the patriotic treachery of Victor Fargeau, was rapidly preparing for an invasion of Germany, which a magnificently-equipped army of nearly four million men meant to make a very different affair to the last one; while Russia was swiftly and secretly massing her huge military and very formidable naval forces in the near and far east, and England had, as usual, been muddling along, chattering over reforms on land and sea without getting them done; and while Germany, for once about to be taken unawares, was quietly getting ready for the inevitable struggle, a quiet, broad-browed, deep-eyed man had been at the head of an army of workmen, building up what was intended to be the real capital and governing centre of the world. In the midst of a broad, barren plain, broken by great masses of rock, many of them snow-capped and ice-crowned even in the middle of the northern summer, there rose the walls and chimneys of what looked like a commonplace collection of factories, such as might be found in any of the manufacturing districts of Europe and America.
About four miles to the west, under a rocky promontory which the discoverer of this desolate land had named Cape Adelaide, little thinking what a connection it would have with another Adelaide, there was a small natural harbour, navigable for about five months in the year, constantly crowded with colliers. For over a year it had been packed with them. Before the previous winter set in they had been laden with coal and machinery and building materials, and throughout the long winter Doctor Lamson had relentlessly pushed the work on under rows of electric lights, which rivalled theAuroraitself.
The men were well housed and fed and lavishly paid, and so, in spite of the cold and darkness, they had worked well and cheerfully, well knowing that it was impossible for them to get back, save in the steamers that brought them. By the time the ice broke and the vessels were released another long line of them was already making its way up through the still half-frozen waters of Davis Strait and Lancaster Sound, laden with more coal, materials, and machinery. A telegraph line had been taken from Port Nelson across Hudson Bay over Rae Isthmus, and then through the Gulf of Boothia to the works, and this put Dr Lamson in direct communication with Winnipeg and the rest of the world.
At intervals of two hundred miles, across the icy desert of the north, groups of huge steel masts, three hundred feet high, had been erected, and these had been continued singly or in pairs over all the principal elevations of the North American Continent, and also over Greenland and Iceland to the north of Scotland, and thence to the rest of the British Islands. It was a miracle that could only have been wrought by millions, but the millions were spent without stint, in the full knowledge that they would be repaid in the days when it was possible to tax the world for the privilege of living.
The Storage Works were in the form of a square, measuring four hundred feet each way. In the exact centre of an interior square measuring fifty feet each way was that mysterious spot of earth where the needle of the compass points neither to north nor south nor east nor west, but straight down to the centre of the globe; and over it was built a great circular tower, forty feet in diameter and a hundred feet in height, which contained a gigantic reproduction of the instrument which had stood on Doctor Emil Fargeau's table in his laboratory at Strassburg on that memorable night when he had completed the work which was destined to lead to his own ruin and death and to the revolutionising of the world.
From this tower ran underground, in all directions, thousands of copper cables leading to the gigantic storage batteries with which the greater part of the buildings were filled. In the middle of each side of the great square a two thousand horse-power engine was ready to furnish the necessary electrical force in the absorber, as the great apparatus in the centre was called.
Everything was in order to commence work; in fact, Doctor Lamson had just decided that he would try his engines together for the first time, when Clifford Vandel's telegram reached him from Southampton.
His agent in Winnipeg had kept him well informed of the principal events going on in the world during his long isolation, and the sailing of the French and Russian Polar expeditionsviaDavis Straits had not escaped him. For a few minutes after he had read the dispatch he walked up and down the telegraph room, into which no one but himself and Austin Vandel, Clifford's nephew and his own general manager, could under any circumstances gain admission, since none but they knew the combinations of the lock which opened the steel door.
Austin was sitting at the table where he had received the message, and he broke the silence by saying:
"I guess, doctor, that looks a bit ugly. I suppose it's that Alsatian Frenchman and that pretty Frenchwoman you were telling me about that's fixed this up."
"There's not the slightest doubt about that," said Lamson, whose enthusiasm for the great scheme had quite overcome his earlier scruples. "If we had only known of that other set of specifications, and managed to get hold of them somehow—still that wouldn't have done much good, because even then the Frenchwoman, this beautiful daughter of the Bourbons as they call her, would have given it away as soon as she guessed what we were doing; and if she hadn't done so—well, Fargeau would have done so; so I suppose after all it's inevitable."
"Then you think we'll have to fight for it?" said Austin.
"If those expeditions are really armed forces, and their object is to take these works by hook or by crook, of course we must," replied Lamson. "Poor devils! I wonder what they'll feel like when we turn the disintegrators on them?"
"Don't talk about those," said Austin. "Time enough for that when we have to use them to save ourselves—which the Lord forbid. I sha'n't forget that experiment of yours on poor Hudson's body; but to see it turned on to a living man! Great Scott!"
"Yes; it won't be very pleasant," said Lamson, whose rather gentle and retiring nature had become completely transformed under the influence of the gigantic possibilities which were now at his disposal. "But suppose they get their ships up to Port Adelaide?—it's rather curious, by the way, that it should have the same name as that Frenchwoman, who, I suppose, is by this time about our most dangerous and determined enemy—but suppose they get them there, and begin knocking the works about with big guns. Suppose," he went on, with something like a shudder, "a shell bursts in the absorber, where are we? And, mind you, if they come they'll bring Fargeau with them; and if they took us prisoners or killed us, he would have material enough here to make another one—and he would know how to do it. No, no, Vandel; if I have to defend the works I'll do it. My whole life and soul are here now, and no Frenchman or Russian sets foot inside here while I'm alive, unless he comes as a prisoner."
"But look here," said Austin; "couldn't you paralyse 'em? Why not set the engines to work, and mop up this world's soul, or whatever you call it, right away, so that their engines should break down long before they got here, and just freeze them out."
"That, my dear Austin," replied the doctor, "is a rather more hasty remark than I should have expected you to make. Don't you see that if we were to start the engines, and cut off our American communications, as would be necessary, we should not only paralyse the expedition, we should also paralyse the whole of Canada and the United States, cut off our communications with England, and make it impossible for our friends to communicate with us, or for them to come here—as they are doing this month."
"Guess I spoke a bit too soon," said Austin. "That's so; and, of course, we couldn't do it."
The doctor continued his walk up and down the room for a few moments longer, then stopped and said suddenly, "No; but I'll tell you what we can and will do if there's going to be any of this sort of foul play about. The president and all our friends will be much safer here than in any other part of the world, for if we have to starve the world out they'll be all right here. Wire to your uncle; say that we have received his message and are acting upon it, and tell him to bring the whole party here with the utmost speed; call it a pleasure-trip or a tour of inspection, or what they please, but they must come at once, and, above all, they must get here before these so-called Polar expeditions."
"That's the talk, doctor," exclaimed Austin; "you've got right down on to it this time. I'll fix that up in the code and send it right away."
There is, of course, neither day nor night during June in Boothia Land, only a little deepening of the twilight towards midnight, but the message was despatchedviaWinnipeg a little after nine in the evening, according to conventional time, and so Clifford Vandel was able to decipher it in his sitting-room at Orrel Court before breakfast the next morning. The carriages were already waiting to take the party down to theNadine'sberth at Southampton Water as soon as possible after an early breakfast, for there was to be a race round the Isle of Wight for cruising yachts that day, and some of the finest yachts in the two hemispheres were going to compete, theNadineand several other steam-yachts, including theVlodova, belonging to the Grand Duke Ruric, were to follow the race, and the day was to wind up with supper at Clifford Vandel's bungalow at Cowes.
Therefore the moment he had finished translating the cipher, without waiting even for breakfast, he sent his man to ask Lord Orrel and his son for the favour of a few minutes' private conversation in his lordship's library. This man was the brother of the Countess Sophie's French maid—deaf, handy, silent, and wonderfully well up to his work. He had engaged him on the count's recommendation, after dismissing his English valet on the instant for, as he thought, trying to learn more than he ought to know from his correspondence. It is scarcely necessary to add that Ma'm'selle Sophie knew as much about the one as she did about the other; and, as a matter of fact, she had procured both appointments. This being so, it was only natural that within a very few minutes Count Valdemar and his daughter should have heard of the receipt of the telegram, and Clifford Vandel's request for an interview with Lord Orrel and his son. The immediate result was two interviews before breakfast instead of one.
"What can it mean, papa?" said Sophie, when she had softly locked her father's door. "Jules says that the dispatch was brought up from Southampton this morning. Before he gave it to Mr Vandel he, of course, steamed the envelope and looked at it. It was in cipher, as one might expect; but it came from Winnipeg, and Winnipeg is the one point of communication between Boothia and the rest of the world. Mr Vandel translated it at once, and immediately went to talk to Lord Orrel and the viscount about it. I wonder whether—but no, that's impossible. We couldn't have been overheard, and no one that knows anything of our plans could have any possible inducement to betray us. The marquise told me that she had a letter from Fargeau yesterday: I wonder if she has said anything."
"My dear Sophie," replied her father, "as I told you the night before last, a woman in love is a woman lost to all purposes of diplomacy, unless her interests and those of the man she is in love with are identical. Here they are diametrically opposed; a word from her to the viscount would ruin everything—at least, so far as the expeditions are concerned."
"All the more reason then," said Sophie, clenching her hands, "that we—I mean that theVlodoyashould capture theNadinewith all these people on board her. If we have them at our mercy we have everything. I would give a good deal to know what there was in that dispatch that Clifford Vandel had this morning."
"And so would I," replied her father; "a great deal. Do you think that if your maid were to promise her brother, say, £500, for the transcription which Vandel must have made of it, there would be any chance of getting it?"
"We can only try," replied Sophie. "The old gentleman is very careful about his papers, they tell me; still, we will try."
"Well, gentlemen," said Clifford Vandel, about the same moment in Lord Orrel's library, "I think you will agree with me that the doctor would not have sent a dispatch like this without pretty good reason; and if these people mean pushing matters to extremity, why, of course, it might be necessary for him to, as he says here, freeze them out, in which case they couldn't get there. And if they couldn't we couldn't; wherefore it seems good reasoning to say that we ought to be there first—if we're going to get there at all."
"My dear Vandel," replied his lordship, "it is the best of reasoning; and I am quite sure that Doctor Lamson would not have dreamt of sending such a dispatch without good reasons, and I think I am justified in telling you that this morning I received a confidential letter from an old colleague of mine in the Foreign Office, in which he says that, according to reports of our agents, both in France and Germany, an outbreak of hostilities may occur at any moment within the next few weeks, without warning—just as it did in 1870."
"Then," said Hardress, sharply, "if that is so, there simply must be some connection between that and the dispatch of these two expeditions. I don't often jump to conclusions, Mr Vandel, but I think now that Miss Chrysie was perfectly right. They're not going to try and get to the Pole at all. It's the Magnetic Pole they want, and they'll be there this summer if we don't find some way to stop them; and I quite agree that we ought to get there first. It may be necessary to show Europe that they can't get on without us, even in the matter of fighting."
"Very well, then," said Lord Orrel, "we'll call that settled; we'll make it a summer Arctic trip. How soon can you get us across the Atlantic, Hardress?"
"I can land you in Halifax in six days. We'll coal up there; and, if we're not too much crowded with ice, I'll get you to Rae Isthmus in six days more. Meanwhile I will telegraph to Lamson to have one of his steamers waiting for us on the other side of the Isthmus, and in another week, including the land travel, which may be difficult, we will be at the works. Or, if we find the sea fairly clear, we'll steam straight up to Fox Channel, Kury's Strait, and take you straight to Boothia Land. At any rate, the expeditions are only just starting, one from Havre and the other one from Riga, and, at that rate, we should certainly be there a clear month before them, even if they really are going."
"Then," said Clifford Vandel, slowly but gravely, "if that's so, I guess the best thing we can do is to get there as quickly as possible and start the circus as soon as we can. If Europe means fighting—well, we can't have a better way of proving our power, and showing France and Germany and the rest of them that it will pay them to deal with the Great Storage Trust, than by just making their own war impossible. When they find they can't even fight without our permission, I guess they'll pretty soon come to terms."
"I agree with you entirely, my dear Vandel," said Lord Orrel.
CHAPTER XVI
That same morning, as it happened, Adelaide received a letter from Victor Fargeau, dated from Paris, telling her, among other things, that the two alleged Polar expeditions would be ready to start in a fortnight's time, and that he had been appointed to, as he put it, the scientific command of the French one. There had been a considerable amount of veiled friction between the French and Russian governments as soon as they had both been compelled to admit to each other the true object of the expeditions, and it was even suspected that the Russian government was secretly preparing a much more formidable scientific expedition of four vessels—including their celebrated ice-breakerIvan the Terrible, a vessel built in an English yard for the purpose of breaking up the Baltic ice in winter, in order to keep the ports free and the Russian Baltic squadron always serviceable.
With such a vessel to lead it the Russian expedition would be quite certain of reaching Boothia Land whatever the condition of the ice might be, because she would be able to clear a course for her consorts through it. All the probabilities were, therefore, in favour of the Russian squadron getting to Boothia Land first. If they did that, and were successful in getting possession of the works, it was not very likely that Russia would be inclined to share the dominion of the world with the ally she had already bled so freely, and in this case France would be once more robbed of the fruits of his father's discovery.
Soon after afternoon tea on the lawn of Clifford Vandel's bungalow, Adelaide said to Sophie, as they sat in their deck-chairs beside each other:
"I am given to understand that Russia is quite determined to reach the Pole, if possible, in this next expedition."
"The Pole?" laughed Sophie, with a swift glance under her half-lowered eyelids. "My dear marquise, surely you are joking with me a little unnecessarily. Which Pole?"
"Really, my dear countess, I am speaking quite seriously," she replied, turning her head on her cushion, and looking at her companion with somewhat languid eyes. "I presume, of course, it must be the North Pole—because I hear from a quite reliable source that your government is sending out the big ice-breaker—theIvan the Terrible, you know; and that would hardly be necessary to get to the other Pole, the one that you perhaps mean, unless, of course, they wished to make certain of getting there as quickly as possible."
Sophie would have given a great deal to know the source of this information, which had only reached her father a day or so before, but it was, of course, impossible for her to ask, so she contented herself with saying, in slow, careless tones:
"Really, that is quite interesting. But then, of course, you know, when Russia takes anything like this in hand she generally does it thoroughly, and, of course, the ice may be late this year, as they call it, crowded up in the narrow places I suppose; and in that case, of course, the French expedition will find it accommodating to have a ship like that to break the way in advance—and out again if necessary. I suppose you have quite decided to take the trip across the Atlantic on theNadine?"
"Oh yes; that is quite arranged. It will be my first visit to America—that wonderful land."
"America—wonderful? Well, I should say!" said Miss Chrysie, coming behind them at this instant, and putting her hands on the backs of their chairs, "It's a pity you can't come too, countess. I guess I could promise you both a pretty interesting time from Niagara right away to——"
"Suppose we say the Magnetic Pole?" murmured Sophie, turning her head back, and looking up at her with a glance that was lazy and yet full of challenge.
"Well, yes, that might be interesting, too," replied Miss Chrysie, looking steadily down into her eyes. "Those works that the viscount and poppa are getting fixed up there, whatever they mean them for, must be something pretty wonderful, for they're spending quite a lot of money on them. It might not be impossible that we'll be going up to see them some day, and if you'd come across, countess, I dare say I might be able to show you round."
"Really, that's more than kind of you, Miss Vandel; but I'm sorry to say that my father's official duties demand his presence at Petersburg, and we absolutely must leave when the house-party at Orrel Court breaks up; but excuse me, I see my father beckoning to me. I will leave you my seat, Miss Vandel."
She got up, and walked away forward to where her father was standing near the verandah. Miss Chrysie took possession of her seat, clasped her hands behind her head, stretched out her legs till a pair of dainty pointed toes peeped from under the hem of her dress, and said, with a sidelong glance at Adelaide, and in a slow drawl:
"Nice girl the countess, marquise, and very good-looking—very; but, somehow—well, perhaps you haven't noticed it, but I have—she seems to have a sort of way of talking at you instead of to you, and always meaning just something a bit different to what she says."
"It is quite possible," said Adelaide, slightly coldly, for Chrysie's words were just a little too frank to please her taste; "but, you see, she's a Russian; and the daughter of a diplomat. All Russians of good family are born diplomatists, and diplomacy, you know——"
"Why yes," laughed Chrysie; "diplomacy is the whole art and science of saying one thing and meaning another, and getting the other fellow to believe that you're telling the ironclad truth when you are lying like Ananias; and I guess the countess hasn't learnt her lessons very badly."
"In other words, Miss Vandel," said Adelaide, with a laugh that had a note of harshness in it, "you think the Countess Valdemar is, to put it into quite brutal English, a liar."
"Why no," replied Chrysie, looking straight down at her shapely toes; "just a diplomatist, or, I should say, the daughter of one. But we don't want to pull each other to pieces like this. What's the matter with changing the subject? What's your idea, marquise, about these two Polar expeditions being started off this year? Doesn't it strike you as just a bit curious that they should be going north up Davis Straits just when our Storage Works are getting finished? Shouldn't wonder if the countess gave herself away a bit when she spoke just now about the Magnetic Pole."
This was a kind of diplomacy that was entirely strange to Adelaide, and for a moment or two she hardly knew what to say; then she replied, rather languidly:
"Really, Miss Vandel, it is a matter that interests me very little. I believe this is the proper time for setting out on Polar expeditions, and you know the Russians are very fond of making these journeys in the interests of science and exploration."
"Mostly exploration of what's going to be new Russian territory," replied Miss Chrysie, with a snap of her eyes. "Ah, here's his lordship junior. Well, viscount, I've got to thank you for yet one more just entirely delightful day!"
Before Hardress could reply she turned another sidelong glance on Adelaide. In spite of all her self-control, Adelaide's cheeks flushed ever so slightly and her eyes lighted up as Hardress pulled a chair towards them.
And she hated her frankly and cordially for it; for she was a girl of absolutely honest feelings, and just as straightforward and thorough-going in her hates as in her loves.
"My dear Miss Vandel," replied Hardress, "it is quite the other way about; it is I who have to thank you for the pleasure of giving you pleasure."
"After that," laughed the marquise, turning her lovely eyes full on his, "let it never be said that an Englishman cannot turn a compliment."
Chrysie noticed that Hardress flushed a little and dropped his eyes slightly under that bewildering glance, and she hated the marquise more intensely than ever.
"It was no compliment, I can assure you," he said, looking up at Chrysie, "though what the marquise just said may have been. But, by the way, I came to tell you a rather serious piece of news, marquise; and something that may perhaps influence your aunt's plans."
"Ah, what is that?" said Adelaide.
"Well, from the telegram my father has just received, which will probably be in the papers to-night, there is going to be a tremendous military scandal in Germany, which may have very grave results indeed, even to the extent of an European war. The detectives of the military staff at Berlin have discovered a sort of Teutonic Dreyfus—a young fellow holding the rank of lieutenant, and employed as a sort of military under-secretary in the bureau of the Minister of War. To a certain extent it's the old story. He had ruined himself with gambling and horse-racing, and, not content with that, had got involved with a very pretty and equally unscrupulous French variety actress, who bled him with apparently more consistency than she loved him. The agents of the French secret service in Germany got hold of him and he sold himself.
"So far the story is commonplace—that sort of thing happens every week in all countries—but the extraordinary thing about this is that when this young fellow was confronted with proofs, he not only made a clean breast of what he had done, but he told his chiefs that the man who had been mostly instrumental in getting him into trouble, and had, in fact, introduced him to the woman who ruined him, was a brother officer—a staff-captain and military attaché of a foreign court. This man, he confessed, had obtained, partly through him and partly through his own knowledge and other sources, a complete sketch of the German plans, both for invading France and resisting a French invasion, together with all the necessary details as to men, guns, transports, etc. Stranger still, a German staff-officer answering exactly to the description, resigned his commission nearly a year ago, and retired into private life. He was not a German, but an Alsatian. The German secret agents in Paris took up the scent, and found that this very man had been in close communication with the Minister of War and appeared to be holding some confidential position in the service of the Ministry. Now Germany, it is rumoured, has demanded his extradition on a charge of treason and desertion; for it seems that his resignation was never officially accepted, although he was allowed to go in consequence of some family trouble which brought disgrace upon his name. France has refused it, and—well, the situation may be described as distinctly strained."
"Well," said Miss Chrysie to herself, while he was speaking, "if that's not a pretty good sample of diplomacy, I've got a wrong idea of the word altogether." She had turned her head lazily on the cushion again, every now and then glancing at Adelaide's face. Hardress had, of course, done the same repeatedly during his narrative, which he had told just as though he were telling some absolutely fresh piece of news to a couple of listeners who would only take an outside interest in it. Since her father's death Adelaide had given no sign that he had told her anything on his deathbed, or that she was aware of the true nature of the Great Storage Scheme. Now she kept her composure admirably under the double scrutiny. Chrysie fancied that she changed colour ever so little at the mention of the German staff-officer who had resigned, and of the visits to the French Minister of War, but otherwise she gave no sign, she just sat and listened, every now and then drawing the point of her parasol across the grass at her feet, and occasionally looking out over the water dotted with a multitude of crafts coming to an anchor after the day's racing. Certainly neither of them found any reason so far to believe that the story had anything more than a general interest for her. When she spoke her voice was just as low and sweetly quiet as ever it was.
"Certainly that is very serious news," she said, looking straight at Hardress. "We know, of course, that there has been great tension between the two countries for some time, and if France refuses to give this man up there can hardly be anything but war; and yet if it is true that France possesses all the German plans, Germany would be at a terrible disadvantage, for it would be impossible to change them at the last minute. At any rate, I am very much obliged to you for your early information, viscount. Certainly I think it would be better for my aunt to remain in England for the present; and in that case, I am afraid it will be my duty to remain with her."
"Not at all, my dear marquise," said Hardress, with an eagerness which Chrysie did not at all appreciate. "You know your aunt was a great yachtswoman some years ago; she's a splendid sailor, and there's lots of room on board theNadine. Let her come to Canada with us. The voyage would do her all the good in the world. We can land you with Miss Vandel and Olive at Halifax, and you can have a delightful run through Canada and the States under my father's protection, while the president and I pay our visit to the Storage Works."
"A thousand thanks, my dear viscount," replied the marquise; "but that, of course, will be a matter for my aunt alone to decide. For my part, I can only say that I shall be delighted if she says yes."
"I sha'n't," said Miss Chrysie, with great emphasis, in her soul.
Meanwhile another conversation on the same subject was going on in another part of the lawn. A messenger-boy had about half-an-hour before brought the count an envelope containing a lengthy telegram; and it was when he had read this that he had beckoned to Sophie, and she had scarcely joined him when one of the servants brought her a note which had been left by a man at the gate of the grounds. They left the verandah where the count had been standing, and strolled down towards the water.
"Well, papa," said Sophie, "I saw you had a telegram just now. Any news?"
"News? Yes," said the count; "and very serious, too. Briefly, the German government has discovered everything about Fargeau—that is to say, his treason and his connection with Ducros—and has demanded his extradition from the French government. France, having got the plans, will, of course, refuse, and then there will be war—probably in a week or two."
"And Russia?" queried Sophie, looking up at him.
"Russia, my dear, as you understand, will act as circumstances direct."
At this moment the note was put into Sophie's hands. She opened it, read it, dismissed the servant, and said in a low voice:
"Papa, here is even more serious news than yours. This is from my friend the engineer. He tells me that the viscount has suddenly altered his plans; that theNadineis to be filled with coal to her utmost capacity, and all preparations made for crossing the Atlantic at full speed, instead of about twelve knots."
"And she can steam twenty knots," said the count. "I'm afraid, my dear Sophie, that completely upsets your nicely-arranged plan for a rendezvous in mid-ocean. TheNadinewill be across the Atlantic before theVlodoyacan get there, for her best is only about sixteen."
"No, papa," said Sophie, "I've not failed yet. If my engineer is only faithful, and that accident to the machinery happens, we shall get them all the same. I will promise him anything and everything, and he will be faithful. And then I have another plan."
"Ah! And that?"
"The marquise—she will be on board—she's a Frenchwoman, she loves this Hardress, and hates this American girl. Sooner or later she knows that it must be war to the knife between them, and better sooner than later, for they say that he is already half-betrothed to Miss Vandel. At the same time, Hardress is by no means indifferent to her own fascinations. I will make her an ally—for the present, at least. She knows well enough that were the American conveniently disposed of she could soon console the viscount for his loss. I will show her how she may be got rid of, and how she, Adelaide de Condé, may marry the man who may, as she believes, soon be master of the world. A clever woman with a great end to gain will be of infinite service to us on board the yacht. At present she is half-hostile to us—for she has a suspicion that our expedition is meant to forestall the French one. Now I will make her wholly our friend by showing her how she may not only gain the desire of her heart, but also ensure the success of the French expedition; for, after all, you must remember that we are bound to co-operate with them to a certain extent, for they at least have been clever enough to keep the specification of the works to themselves, and till we get possession of them we can do nothing without Fargeau, even if we were masters of the works. Yes; I think, after all, Adelaide, since she must be either friend or enemy, will be a better friend than enemy: and friend she shall be before she sails on theNadine."
CHAPTER XVII
"And so, Ma'm'selle la Comtesse, it comes to this: you would have me reward hospitality with treachery? You would have me betray my host, my father's friend, and his son, into the hands of Russia?—for that is what it would come to. No; I thank you for your kindness and condescension in taking me into your confidence, but I cannot consent to become your accomplice."
Adelaide de Condé had just been listening, in her own sitting-room at Orrel Court, to Sophie's cunningly-worded suggestion that she should go on board theNadineas her friend and ally, and assist in the capture of the vessel by certain means which she pointed out, one of which was a liberal use of drugs on the passengers and crew when the critical moment was drawing near. A few months before she would have entered with repugnance, but without hesitation, into any scheme which bade fair to recover what she considered to be an inheritance which the fates had robbed her off; but since then she had learnt to love Shafto Hardress as she had never believed she could love any man; and love had wrought its usual miracle. She hated Chrysie Vandel with the whole-hearted hatred of her impetuous and masterful Bourbon spirit; she looked upon her as one of her ancestors would have looked upon an usurper or an invader—something to be abolished or suppressed, at any price and by any means. Her father, too, she thoroughly hated—not only through personal antipathy, but as one of those who possessed something that should have been hers. To Lord Orrel and Lady Olive she was practically indifferent; and, so far as they were concerned, she would have entered even willingly into any scheme which promised to take from them what they had taken from her. For the Franco-Russian alliance she cared little, yet she would infinitely prefer to see France sharing the control of the world with Russia than that it should be in the hands of an Anglo-American business syndicate. Moreover, was there not that promise made to her father long ago by an exalted personage, that, since Russia would prefer a monarchy to a republic as a friend and ally, she would not look unfavourably on the restoration of the House of Bourbon in the person of the prince, should circumstances—such, for instance, as a victorious war fought with Russia's aid—make such an event possible. Many a time, indeed, she had even been ready to curse this unfortunate love which had come into her life to shake her resolution and spoil her purpose. But for that how easy it would all be, especially with an ally—brilliant, daring, and unscrupulous—like Sophie Valdemar; and yet, how could she help to betray the man she loved, even to destroy her rival and get him for herself? So, after a long pause of thought, she repeated again, aloud:
"No, no; I couldn't do it. It would be too base."
"My dear Adelaide," replied Sophie, familiarly, and almost affectionately, "I hope you will forgive me if I suggest that the attitude you have taken up, dignified and virtuous as I admit it looks at first sight, is really a trifle absurd."
"Really, countess," replied Adelaide, frigidly, "if you are going to forget your manners, I think the conversation may as well end. You have sought to tempt me to an act of treachery, and because I refuse, you begin to forget your manners. You seem to have forgotten, also, that you have put it into my power to warn the viscount and his friends of the danger you have prepared for them."
This was, of course, a danger which Sophie had foreseen. It was a grave one; but she was accustomed to run risks, and she was ready for this one.
"My dear Adelaide," she replied, still with the most perfect good humour, "please don't get angry with me. We have always been very good friends, and I think this is the first time you have called me countess for years. Don't take the trouble to be formal any more, but just be sensible and listen. I am not tempting you at all. I am simply trying to help you against our common enemy, and I am asking you to help France and Russia in the great and good work of wresting the command of the world from these upstart Anglo-Saxons, and reducing them once for all to their proper place. You are not a friend to the Republic; neither am I, nor any of us, for the matter of that. But you are a Frenchwoman, who ought to be Queen of France, and, if all goes well with us, may be."
"What," exclaimed Adelaide, taken off her guard for a moment, "do you mean that, Sophie? Do you believe that Russia——"
"Would not rather have as an ally a monarchy—the old monarchy of France, ruled over by your most gracious majesty, than a republic, managed by a plebeian pack of stockjobbers and shopkeepers? Do you know why your lamented father the prince was such a welcome guest at the court of Petersburg?"
"Ah, then you know——"
"Yes," replied Sophie, taking the venture; "I do know, and I can assure you that your majesty, when the day comes, will find no stronger partisan than I shall be. My father, too, is one of your most devoted adherents, though, of course, he can say nothing about it now, and, as you know, there are other personages far more exalted."
"Yes, yes, I know," said Adelaide. "It was almost a promise."
"Help us, and you shall find that it was a promise," half guessing what the promise was. Then, pushing her advantage, she continued: "And, after all, you know, my dear Adelaide, is it not a little inconsistent for you to talk of treason or betrayal. Do you really think that you would now be a guest in Lord Orrel's house any more than I should if he knew of your connection with a certain ex-captain of Uhlans, or of that visit you paid with him to General Ducros? Really, you will forgive me if I say that your suggestion as to warning the viscount about my little scheme is a trifle illogical, even if you wished to betray us, which I don't suppose you would seriously dream of. How could you do it without betraying yourself? You would have to accuse me and papa, and, through us, Russia, of an act of contemplated piracy. We should be compelled, in self-defence, to prove that you know just as much of the true nature of the Storage Works as we do, and that you and your ex-captain are the real authors of the French expedition—in short, that you are every whit as bitter an enemy of the Trust, and all concerned in it, as we are. I fully admit that you will spoil our scheme for the time being; but, instead of being a guest of theNadine, the guest of the man you love, with the power in your hand of abolishing the woman who will certainly marry him, if you don't, you would suffer the indignity of being ordered out of his house as a spy and a traitress."
The logic was as exact as it was pitiless, and Adelaide de Condé saw that Sophie Valdemar was, for the time being at least, mistress of the situation. She had come to Orrel Court as a guest, with the full intention of playing a double part. She had played it until one day she had chanced to overhear a few half-tender, half-chaffing words pass between Chrysie Vandel and Hardress. Then she had awakened to the full certainty of what, in her inmost soul, she had long suspected—that she loved this man with all the strength of a strong and imperious nature; and since then she had been living in constant dread that he should by some means come to know her as she was.
Now the crisis had come. Sophie Valdemar had woven toils round her from which there was no escape; she must play the double part she had chosen to the end. It was the only possible chance of gratifying at once her love and her hate, and of perhaps attaining the object of her ambitions after all. She moved slowly once or twice across the room, with her hands clasped behind her back. Sophie waited and watched her with a half-smile on her lips and a gleam of triumph in her eyes. She knew that she had won, for she could read every thought that was passing in Adelaide de Condé's soul. Then Adelaide stopped in the middle of the room and faced her, with her head slightly thrown back, and said slowly:
"Yes, Sophie; I see, after all, that you are right. I should be no more a traitor on board the yacht than I have been here, and one should help one's friends and allies rather than one's enemies. It will, of course, be an enormous advantage to our cause if this yacht can be seized. No doubt, too, there will be ciphers on board, which will enable us to communicate with the works, and if there are, that will be an immense gain to us. It shall be part of my business to find that out. Yes; I will go, and I will help you as far as I can; but there is one compact, Sophie, that you must make with me."
"My dear Adelaide," replied Sophie, warmly, and coming forward with both hands outstretched, "after what you have said I will make any compact you please that does not injure the cause of Holy Russia. She is the only God, and her service is the only religion I have, and if I make the compact, I swear to you by Holy Russia that I will keep it. What is it?"
"Then you must swear to me," said Adelaide, taking her hand, "that, whatever happens, whether we succeed or fail, no evil shall come to the viscount or his father and sister, either in person or property. If we get possession of the works, and the alliance conquers England and America after it has disposed of Germany, they shall be considered and treated as friends, not enemies; for you must remember that until I reign as queen in Paris I propose to reign as mistress at Orrel Court. As for the American woman and her father, and all the rest of them, the sooner you get them out of the way the better pleased I shall be."
"My dear Adelaide," replied Sophie, "you looked adorable as you said those last words. Yes; of course, it shall be so; not a hair of their heads, not a centime of their property shall be touched. They shall be yours, and, as yours, sacred against all ills. That I swear and promise you in the name of Holy Russia."
"Then," replied Adelaide, looking straight into her eyes, now brilliant with the light of triumph, "I am with you to the end, whether it be good or bad, success or failure, life or death."
"And for Holy Russia and the old régime of France!" added Sophie, almost solemnly. "And now, suppose we go and join these good people on the lawn?"
As they went out, arm-in-arm, laughing and chatting as though they hadn't a care on their minds, no one would have dreamt that these two beautiful women had been a moment before plotting the ruin, not only of those whose hospitality they were enjoying, but of their country and people as well; but as Miss Chrysie saw them, her pretty brows came together for an instant, she turned aside, and said to her father in a low tone:
"That Frenchwoman and the Russian girl have been together ever since breakfast—hatching some mischief, I'll bet. I don't like it, poppa—any more than I like the Frenchwoman coming across on the yacht. She's coming for no good, I'm sure; but the viscount's about as blind as a wall-eyed mule where that woman's concerned. Anyhow, I'll watch her pretty closely; she can bet all her titles and ancient lineage on that."
"That's right, Chrysie; and I reckon I sha'n't be sleeping much while she's around," replied her father.
CHAPTER XVIII
Cowes week was over, and the house party at Orrel Court had broken up. Madame de Bourbon had yielded to her niece's earnest persuasions, and consented to become a guest on theNadine. Count Valdemar and Sophie had sailed on board theVlodoya,en routefor the Baltic and Petersburg. The news which Hardress had told to the marquise and Chrysie on the lawn at Cowes had duly leaked out into the channels of the Press, and had been condensed and expanded, embroidered and commented upon with the usual luxuriant facility of the journalistic imagination.
Meanwhile theTimeshad published a lengthy and weighty communication from M. de Blowitz, which, while proving many wrong and some right, pointed unmistakably to a very grave state of affairs in Western and Central Europe. The communication also hinted, indirectly but unmistakably, at other developments which might possibly produce results as astounding as they would be unexpected.
"De Blowitz has somehow managed to get on to the secret of those two so-called Polar expeditions," said Hardress to his father at breakfast on the morning before theNadinewas to sail.
The marquise and Madame de Bourbon were having breakfast in their own room that morning else he would not have said this. Only Chrysie and her father were at the table. "He's a wonderful fellow for getting hold of news. That allusion to events proceeding in a far-distant portion of the globe is distinctly significant."
"That's so," said Clifford Vandel, "and I reckon that, under the circumstances, the sooner we respond personally to Doctor Lamson's telegram the better it will be for all immediately concerned. To tell you the square truth, Lord Orrel," he went on, looking up from his plate, "I don't quite like the turn things seem to be taking generally."
"Why, what do you mean, my dear Vandel?" asked his lordship; "you've not heard anything unpleasant, have you?"
"I've heard something, and I've seen a bit more," he replied. "I don't want to speak disrespectfully of any of your guests, but I'm bound to say I don't altogether like the cordiality that's seemed to work up during the last few days between our Russian friends and the distinguished lady who is going to honour us by her company across the Atlantic."
"Oh, come now, Mr Vandel," interrupted Hardress, in a tone which Miss Chrysie did not exactly appreciate, "surely you're not going to accuse the marquise, the daughter of my father's old friend, of anything like plotting and scheming with Russia."
"I'm not making any accusations, viscount; I'm just trying to put two and two together and make four of them. We know that if Doctor Fargeau's discovery had not fallen into our hands, or, I should say that if it had not been thrown into our hands by the stupidity of the French government, this young lady's father would most likely have become king of France instead of dying, of what we will call mental shock, down at Elsenau; and we haven't yet got on to whether she knows anything or nothing about the scheme yet."
"Anyhow, she was in Paris at the time when this Fargeau, the son of the man whose remains we picked up, had his interviews with General Ducros, and these Russians were there at the same time. I guess that makes about two. Right after that France and Russia decide to send two Polar expeditions, both by the same route—the only one on this side that leads to the Storage Works—and both about timed to get there when we are ready to spring our little scheme on the world. I reckon that makes two more; and if you put them together you'll get about four."
"I should say five, poppa," exclaimed Miss Chrysie, putting her fish-knife down somewhat sharply on her plate. "It strikes me the whole thing's timed to fix in with this war that they're talking about. France and Russia want to get hold of the works when the war starts. If they do they'll just run creation and halve the world between them; and I reckon that makes five. What do you think, viscount?" she went on, raising her eyes and looking straight at him across the table.
"I agree entirely with Mr Vandel that we ought to get across the Atlantic as quickly as we can," he replied, rather more deliberately than she liked. "I hope, and still believe, that your suspicions are without foundation, but, at the same time, of course, we can't afford to take any risks in a matter like this; and as everything is ready, and as it is always wise to do the unexpected in matters like this, theNadineshall start to-night instead of to-morrow morning. That will give us thirteen to fifteen hours' start; and if, as you seem to think, our friends are the enemy, it may help somewhat to disconcert their plans. But, under any circumstances, it won't do any harm."
"I think, Shafto, that's a very good idea," said Lord Orrel. "In view of what is taking place in Europe and of Doctor Lamson's telegram, I really don't think we ought to lose an hour in getting across the Atlantic as quickly as possible. Of course, it is impossible for me to entertain suspicions of the character of people who have been my guests without the most absolute proof, but at any rate it is impossible that anything could happen between here and Halifax, where we shall land Madame de Bourbon and the marquise. There we shall get more definite news from Lamson, and the telegram will give us good excuse for leaving them there; but that, of course, will depend upon the nature of the news that we get there. If there is anything really serious—well, we shall have to commit them to the care of the universal Cook, who will, of course, provide a special courier for them, and say good-bye as politely as possible."
At this moment the door opened and Adelaide came in. Lord Orrel had a somewhat high-pitched voice, and as she was opening the door, in the slow, silent way which society approves, she distinctly heard his last sentence.
"Ah," he continued, "here is the marquise herself. Ma'm'selle, we find that the yacht is ready, and that there is no objection, unless you and Madame de Bourbon have any, to starting this afternoon instead of to-morrow morning. Both Mr Vandel and myself have somewhat urgent affairs on the other side of the Atlantic."
"My dear Lord Orrel," replied Adelaide, with a radiant smile, "pray say nothing more; the arrangement will suit my aunt and myself perfectly—and, after all, we are at your service. It is you who are accommodating us. For my part, I think it is always pleasant the first night at sea, especially in summer. One wakes up the next morning to find the sun shining, and the water dancing, and the strong salt breeze ready to give one a most glorious appetite for breakfast. What more would you? The packing, as you call it, is done. For us it is only a question of putting our hats on and going on board—and, voila, c'est fait."
She said this with such a delightful air of insouciance, and with such a radiant smile, that Miss Chrysie felt that she could have shot her there and then. Under the circumstances, she just finished her coffee and said:
"Well, Olive, if that's so, I reckon we'd better go and get fixed up too. I quite agree with the marquise that it's better to start out at night on a voyage and wake up nice and fresh next morning, especially if you don't eat too liberal a dinner before you start."
"Oh yes," said Lady Olive; "I can be quite ready by this afternoon if you can, and if it's anything like the lovely moonlight night it was last night, we shall have a perfectly delicious run through the Solent and past the Needles."
"And along the coast," added Hardress; "the moonlight will last us a bit farther than that. We shall be well away to Portland before you want to go to bed I expect. TheNadine'sgot to do her best this time, and we've coaled up for a run across the Atlantic at twenty knots. That will be somewhat of an experience for you, marquise, will it not?"
"Yes, viscount," she said, with one of those smiles which Miss Chrysie hated so; "it is a very wonderful speed that, and of course it will be an experience."
"Then that's settled," said Lady Olive, rising, "we shall start this evening. Now let us go and pack."
TheNadine, spick and span, and clean as a new pin, was lying alongside the ocean quay at Southampton, her bunkers and half her hold crammed with the finest steaming coal that money could buy, and the steam whistling softly in her pipes.
Her second engineer, an exceedingly clever young fellow of twenty-five, whose good-looking face was marred by a pair of too-closely-set greenish-blue eyes, was leaning on the rail a little forward of the foremast, smoking a pipe and gazing down the water with eyes that saw nothing material. Edward Williams was as good a marine engineer as ever went afloat, but unfortunately he was possessed by the idea, too common among his class, that he possessed a creative and inventive genius as well as real cleverness in his profession.
He had invented what he considered to be improvement after improvement in marine machinery, and Lord Orrel had at first helped him generously to put them into practical form; but as he did not possess the genius, he believed he had, they had one after another failed to stand the test of practice, and at length both Lord Orrel and his son had closed their pockets and given him to understand that he had better devote himself to his profession and leave inventing alone. This produced the usual effect on such a mind as his. He forgot all that they had done for him, and looked upon them as wealthy men whose selfishness deliberately barred his way to the fame and fortune which ought to be his.
Only a month before he had gone to Hardress with the plans of a new type of submarine boat, which he, of course, firmly believed would revolutionise naval warfare. It would only have cost a few hundred pounds to build a model and demonstrate the truth of his theory, but Hardress had kindly but firmly refused to do it. This refusal had soured him utterly, and put him in exactly the frame of mind readiest to succumb to the temptation to commit the only crime of his life.
Sophie had heard something of this in conversations at the Court and on board the yacht, and she instantly divined that if she was to find an instrument to work out her scheme she would find it in the disappointed inventor—and she was right.
Like every man who believes himself to be a genius, and is not, Edward Williams was intensely vain, and when the beautiful and brilliant countess one day asked him to show her over the engines and explain their working he naturally felt intensely flattered. Then Sophie had skilfully led the conversation to his own inventions, sympathised with him very sweetly, and assured him that in Russia such genius as his would certainly not go unrecognised. "But these English," she said, "are always the last to accept new ideas or properly reward their clever men."
After that he had been as wax in her skilful hands. She had even led him to believe she was not indifferent to him personally. After this she had infatuated him still further by giving him appointments in secluded parts of the Court grounds; and so she had gradually led up to the proposal which he had now definitely accepted.
For reasons of state, it was all-important that theNadineshould never reach America. Not the slightest harm was to come to anyone on board her: they would simply be brought back and landed in France, free to get home as they pleased. All that was wanted was a delay of a couple of days or so. Therefore, if the engines of theNadinebroke down at a certain spot in the Atlantic, and remained helpless until theVlodoyaovertook her, he was to receive five thousand pounds in gold and a lucrative dockyard appointment in Russia, which would give him every opportunity of working out his inventions.
To such a man, embittered by disappointment and soured by a sense of imaginary wrongs, such a dazzling temptation was irresistible; and that was why Edward Williams was leaning over the rail of theNadinea couple of hours before she was to start, dreaming dreams of revenge on those who had wronged him, and of fortune and fame among his country's enemies.
The party from Orrel Court drove down to Southampton immediately after lunch to enable the ladies to do a little final shopping before going on board.
In the course of the afternoon Chrysie and Lady Olive went into the telegraph office to send off a few farewell wires to friends. As they entered, Miss Chrysie's quick eyes at once caught sight of Felice, the marquise's maid, leaning over one of the compartments. She touched Lady Olive's hand and nodded towards her, and said:
"I guess I'd like to see that telegram."
And then, in the most unprincipled fashion, she strolled along the compartments as though she were looking for a form, stopped a moment and looked over the maid's shoulder. Then she came back and did it again. Meanwhile the other compartments had been occupied; so she just stood about until Felice had finished, and then took her place.
As it happened, Felice had been compelled to use one of those adamantine post-office pencils which you have to almost dig through the paper before you can get a legible impression; consequently on the next form on the pad there was a distinct tracing of several words. This Miss Chrysie tore off and appropriated. Then she wrote her own message and went to the counter with it.
When they got out into the street Lady Olive said, a trifle frigidly:
"My dear Chrysie, don't you think you did a rather improper thing in there? I distinctly saw you look over Felice's shoulder. You know, here, we consider a telegram as sacred as a letter."
"Why, certainly!" replied Chrysie, flushing a little at the rebuke: "and so we do over our side: but still, all's fair in—well—in love and war, and I guess you won't think me quite so wicked when I tell you who that telegram's addressed to."
"Really, Chrysie, I don't wish to know, and I don't think you ought to know," said Lady Olive, still more stiffly.
"Well," replied Chrysie, defiantly, "I am sorry I riled you, but I do know it; and honestly, Olive, it's what's you and I and all of us ought to know."
At this Lady Olive's curiosity appealed very strongly to her sense of the proprieties, and she said more amiably:
"Do you really mean, Chrysie, that there's something serious in it—that, for instance, it has anything to do with the works?"
"I don't know yet," said Chrysie, "but I've got a pretty good copy of it in my satchel, thanks to those awful pencils they give you to use in British telegraph offices. Anyhow, it was addressed to Count Valdemar,Yacht Vlodoya, Cherbourg; and Cherbourg's not on the way to the Baltic, is it? Let's go and have an ice and some cakes somewhere, so that I can read what is written."
"That's very strange," said Lady Olive, "and the Count professed to be in such a hurry to get back to Petersburg. What on earth can he be doing at Cherbourg?"
"I reckon poppa and the viscount would give something to know that, too," said Chrysie, as they turned into a confectioner's. They ordered ices, and Chrysie took the telegram form out of her satchel and unfolded it gingerly. Her pretty brows puckered over it for a few moments, as she slanted it this way and that to get the light on it. Then she put her elbows on the little marble table, and said in a low tone:
"It's in French, and it tells the Count that theNadinestarts this evening instead of to-morrow morning. The last word is 'Dépêchez,' and that's French for 'Make haste,' isn't it? Now, do you think I was right in doing a very improper thing—which, of course, it was?"
"I'm afraid you were, Chrysie," said Lady Olive. "It's certainly very mysterious. How is the telegram signed?"
"There isn't any signature," replied Chrysie. "Our friend's a bit too cute for that."
"What on earth do you mean, Chrysie?" said Lady Olive, with a note of alarm in her voice. "What friend?"
Chrysie looked up and said, with a snap of her eyes: "What other friend than M'am'selle Felice's mistress—the noble Adelaide de Condé?"
Lady Olive started. To her straightforward English sense of honour it seemed impossible that a woman so gently bred as Adelaide de Condé could accept her father's hospitality, and yet send such a message as this to those who might before long be the enemies of his country.
"Chrysie," she said, "I could not believe that for a moment. It is utterly incredible that the marquise could be guilty of anything of the sort. I admit that it is very suspicious that theVlodoyashould be at Cherbourg instead of on her way to the Baltic, and that Adelaide's maid should send such a message; but it seems to me much more likely that Felice is in the pay of these Russians, and that her mistress knows nothing about it."
"Well," said Chrysie, rising, "we shall see. Now I guess we'd better be getting down on board. I shall give this to the viscount, and he can have a council of war on it."
"The viscount!" smiled Lady Olive, as they went out into the street. "How very formal we are, Chrysie. Why don't you call him Shafto?"
"Because I won't let him call me Chrysie—yet," was the reply.
CHAPTER XIX
When theNadineleft her moorings, at about four o'clock on a lovely June afternoon, she sauntered easily down to the Needles at about twelve knots. For reasons of his own her owner had never put her to full speed in crowded waters, or, in fact, where any other craft was near enough to see what she could do. On deck the principal actors in the tragedy that was to come were sitting in deck-chairs or strolling about, chatting in the most friendly fashion possible, just as though the graceful little vessel was not practically carrying the fate of the world as she slipped so smoothly and swiftly through the swirling water that ran along her white sides.
Until nightfall she continued at the same speed; but when dinner was over, and the lights were up, Hardress lit a cigar and went on to the bridge, and said to the commander:
"Captain Burgess, I think you can let her go now. Full speed ahead, right away to Halifax. As I have told you, it is most urgent that we should be there in between five and six days. Of course, everything depends on the engines, and I think it would be well to work the engine-room staff in treble shifts, just to see that nothing goes wrong. Any accident in the engine-room would mean a good deal to me. So you may tell the stokers and engineers that if everything goes smoothly, and we get to Halifax by the 15th—that's giving you five days and a bit from now—there will be a hundred pounds extra to be divided among them when we've coaled up again at Halifax. You understand, I want those engines looked after as though they were a lady's watch."
"Certainly, my lord," replied the captain. "I hope, sir, you don't think that anything of that sort is necessary for the working of theNadine; but, of course, the engine-room staff will be very glad to accept your lordship's generosity."
The captain blew his whistle, and the head and shoulders of a quartermaster appeared on the ladder, looking up to the bridge.
"Quartermaster, who is on duty in the engine-room?"
"Mr Williams, sir," replied the quartermaster, touching his cap.
"Ask him to be good enough to step up here for a moment."
"Ay, ay, sir," and the head and shoulders disappeared.
A few moments later Edward Williams came up on to the bridge. Apart from the work of his profession he was an intensely nervous man, and his imagination had instantly construed the sudden and unwonted summons into a suspicion of his contemplated guilt, and his close-set, greenish-blue eyes shifted anxiously from the captain to Hardress in a way that at once inspired Hardress with vague undefined suspicions, which somehow brought him back to one or two interviews on the subject of Williams's patents—which had ended in a way which would have prompted a less generous man to have dismissed him on the spot. It was only a suspicion. Still, in another sense, it was the intuition of a keen and highly-trained intellect, and somehow, by some process which Hardress himself could not have explained, Williams's manner as he came on the bridge, and that sudden shifty glance, inspired him with the thought that this was a man to be watched.
"Mr Williams," said the captain, "his lordship has just informed me that it is most important we should get to Halifax in the quickest possible time; and, as you have most of the routine work to do, under Mr M'Niven, and are, perhaps, more in touch with the men than he is, I wish you to tell the men that from here to Halifax the engineers and stokers will work in treble shifts. It'll be a bit harder work, but not for long. And his lordship has kindly promised a hundred pounds to be divided among the engineer's staff at Halifax. Now, that's not bad extra pay for five or six days work, and I hope you'll see that it's earned."
"Very well, sir," replied the engineer, doing his best to keep his voice steady, and not quite succeeding. "It is, I am sure, most generous of his lordship, and I am quite certain that the men will do everything in their power to deserve it."
"And," said Hardress, noting the break in his voice, "you understand, Mr Williams, I shall expect the officers to do the same. We can take no risks this trip, and there must be no accidents or breakdowns. Time is too precious; you understand me, of course. I will see Mr M'Niven later on. That will do, thank you."
Mr Williams touched the peak of his cap, and disappeared down the ladder, feeling, in his inmost soul as though his contemplated treachery had already been discovered. And yet, if he had seen the matter from another point of view, he might have known that the precautions which Hardress had taken were, under the circumstances, just what any man carrying such enormous responsibilities as he did would have taken, for, as he had said, everything depended on theNadine'sengines. It was, therefore, the most natural thing in the world that everything possible should be done to ensure their perfect working. In fact, if he had not had the burden of a contemplated treachery on his soul, he would have considered the orders to be not only natural, but necessary.
As he reached the deck, it happened that the marquise was strolling forward towards the bridge. Williams raised his cap, and by the light of one of the electric deck-lamps, Hardress saw from the bridge that she looked hard at him for a moment, and that he replied with an almost imperceptible shake of the head. His brows came together for a moment, and he shut his teeth. His keen intellect saw what his half-intoxicated senses would not have seen. Under any normal circumstances, it was impossible that his guest, Adelaide de Condé, could have even the remotest relations with his second engineer, and yet there was no mistaking what he had seen as she passed under the electric light.
"Captain Burgess," he said, suddenly, in a low voice, "I don't quite like the look of Mr Williams. I have nothing against him, but I know he has a bit of a grudge against me about those patents of his, and——"
"Surely you don't think, my lord, that he would do anything?"
"No," interrupted Hardress; "I say nothing, except that we're taking no risks this voyage; but I shall ask Mr M'Niven to have a very sharp watch kept on the engines."
"May I come up on to the sacred territory?" said a sweet, pleading voice from half-way up the bridge stairs.
"And may we too?" said the voice of Miss Chrysie just behind.
"By all means, marquise," said Hardress; "and you too, Olive, and Miss Chrysie, certainly; only I hope you've got your caps pinned on securely, because we're going to quicken up."
"Ah," said Adelaide, coming up on to the bridge with her head half-enveloped in a fleecy shawl, "quicken up. Does that mean what you call full speed?"
"Something like it, I reckon," said Miss Chrysie, coming up close behind her, followed by Lady Olive, both with white yachting caps pinned more or less securely on to their abundant tresses.
"Yes," said Hardress, with a note in his voice that Adelaide had not heard before; "it is full speed. Now, hold on to your headgear and you'll see."
As he spoke he put his hand on the handle of the engine telegraph and pulled it over from half to full speed. They heard a tinkle in the engine-room, and presently the bridge began to throb and thump under their feet. The sharp prow of theNadinehad so far been cleaving the water with scarcely a ripple. Now it seemed to leap forward into it, and raised a long creased swirl to left and right. A sudden blast of wind struck their faces, hands instinctively went up to heads, and Lady Olive exclaimed:
"What is that, Shafto? It hasn't suddenly come on to blow, has it?"
"Oh no," he laughed. "We're making it blow. That's only the difference between about ten or eleven knots and twenty—and there's a bit of a breeze against us, about five miles an hour—so that makes it twenty-five miles an hour—in fact, even thirty—for knots are longer than miles."