CHAPTER XXXVI
Therewas a feeling of constraint when Gaunt led Edward Drake from the room after the latter’s interview with Lady Ethel.
“I am afraid that I came in at a rather inopportune moment, but this is not the time for love-making,” Gaunt remarked kindly.
Half an hour later they were with Captain Armstrong, who had just arrived from Newcastle to make final arrangements.
“We can sail in a couple of days,” the captain remarked cheerfully.
“And if we leave by theSaxonon Saturday, you can pick us up at Las Palmas. With the superior speed of theEsmeraldayou ought to arrive about the same time we do,” Gaunt remarked.
“She did twenty-five knots in her last trial,” the captain answered complacently.
“You are quite satisfied with the men you have got?”
“Yes, but I have had to be very cautious, for there are one or two naval men at Elswick who have been mighty curious. I must say that Señor Alvarez has played the game skillfully, for they all think that I have entered the San Salvador navy. But I shall be glad when we are outside British waters.”
“Then you had better get away as soon as possible. Of course you must not come into Las Palmas harbor?” Gaunt asked.
“No, for one doesn’t generally go to South America via the Canaries. I intend to lie a few miles off, and I shall come ashore in the pinnace. I suppose I shall find you at the Santa Catalina Hotel?”
“Yes. Captain Drake will be with us, and he will look after the men who are already there.”
They dined at the Carlton Hotel, and Captain Armstrong was in the highest spirits, in contrast to the others. The meal had just come to an end, and they had lighted their cigars when Edward Drake gave a significant look at Gaunt. The latter turned round and saw that the Baron de Croiseuil was seating himself at a table on the other side of the room.
“It is as well that he should see me here. Hang it, I’ll go over and speak to him,” Gaunt said suddenly, and immediately hastened across the room.
“Good-evening, Baron,” he said suavely, and took a chair on the other side of the table.
For once in his life the Baron lost his composure, and flushed hotly.
“You have done your worst and have failed,” Gaunt continued quietly.
“Not quite, for I have effectually closed your mouth, my friend. It was very painful to me—the necessity of taking these proceedings. But still, it is possible to end them. One word, and Mr. Ruggles will explain that a dreadful mistake has been made,” the Baron said coolly, after a supreme effort at self-control.
“I do not intend to say that word. You have done your worst. You have put forward a false charge in an infamous way. You have attempted to ruin me utterly. And do you think that I am the man to take it lyingdown? No, my friend. It soon will be my turn,” Gaunt said grimly.
“You can do nothing, and I am still willing to be friends.”
“Friends!” Gaunt cried contemptuously. “Suchcanailleas you, my friend! I would prefer an out and outApache. But I won’t detain you from your dinner.Au revoir, Baron.”
And he was immediately ashamed of the outbreak, for he had done no good save to relieve his feelings. He did not realize that he had made the Baron thoroughly uncomfortable.
It was decided that they should leave Gaunt House that night and go straight to Winchester, and there await the wire from Captain Armstrong to the effect that theEsmeraldawas about to sail.
The next day such a message came.
“You have still time to motor to Lynton House,” Edward Drake suggested as they were getting ready to start for Southampton, where they intended to stay the night.
“I have told you that I won’t discuss my wife with you,” Gaunt answered coldly.
“You are very hard, and I think you will regret it. Try to put yourself in her place. She was sorely tried,” Drake protested quietly.
In reply Gaunt took his wife’s letter from his pocket.
“Read that, and if you are a man you will understand.”
And Drake knew that it was hopeless to make another effort at reconciliation. But that night was a very miserable one for all three of them. Each was thinkingof the woman that he loved, and remembering that in the morning they sailed upon a desperate adventure from which they might never return.
Passages had been booked under fictitious names, and they went aboard theSaxonjust before sailing time. However, there was considerable delay, and they knew no peace until the last rope had been thrown ashore.
And then Gaunt turned to Drake.
“We have started for good or ill,” he said with unwonted solemnity.
“It is for good, and God is with us,” Edward Drake answered reverently.
And then he gave a cry.
“There is a motor-car with two ladies.”
Gaunt strained his eyes towards the shore and his face became very white when he recognized his wife. He did not move his eyes from the place where Lady Mildred stood, but his face did not soften. The liner cleared the point, and began to travel more quickly, so that in a very few minutes the wharf disappeared from view.
And then he turned away with a sigh and walked to the cabin which had been reserved for him on the deck. There was a cold wind blowing, and he closed the door; not till then did the mask fall from his face. Love tugged at his heart, and he would have given all he possessed to be face to face with his wife. His anger vanished, never to return, and his longing for her came back with overwhelming force. Now he blamed himself bitterly that he had not gone to her before his departure, for now, many weary weeks must elapse before he could see her again.
He sat there thinking deeply—of the vow he had made—his crusade against the rulers of the Congo—and his wife. There was a knock at the door, and the steward entered to unpack his trunk. Still he did not move until the bugle sounded the hour for dressing.
Almost mechanically he put on his evening clothes, and went down to the saloon, where the passengers were busily looking for their places at the table. Edward Drake and his brother were already there, but the meal was a very silent one, for each was busy with his thoughts.
After dinner Gaunt and Edward Drake went to the comfortable smoking-room on deck, and lighted their cigars.
“Now there can be no turning back,” Edward Drake remarked.
“Do you wish to?” Gaunt demanded abruptly.
“No. Except that I was sorry to leave England without obtaining the answer to a question which I had asked.”
“I suppose you refer to the time when I interrupted you. I am very sorry. Drake, you are a good fellow, and I could not wish a woman a better husband.”
“Thank you,” Drake answered simply. “At one time I never dreamt of telling Lady Ethel of my love. My brother Lindsay is my rival, and I thought that I must leave the way clear to him. But love can be selfish, and I intend to fight for my happiness. But it is hardly credible that she can care for me.”
“You never can tell where a woman’s feelings are concerned.”
“Lady Ethel was with your wife on the wharf. I am sorry that they did not come a quarter of an hour earlier. Lady Mildred will be very miserable.”
“And so will her husband. But we won’t talk of it, Drake. I have made up my mind to think of one thing, and one thing alone—the Congo. This may be a rash adventure of ours, but it shall not fail from any lack of energy on my part. And here’s luck to it,” Gaunt remarked as he raised his glass to his lips.
As they steamed down the channel the weather grew so rough that many of the passengers were confined to their cabins. But they had determined to make no acquaintances, and kept themselves strictly to themselves, so they were rather glad than otherwise. Upon reaching the bay of Biscay, as is often the case, the sea was smoother and they were able to spend more time in the open air. It was not until the fourth day that anything of moment happened. It was just after twelve o’clock that they saw smoke on the horizon, and soon they could make out a steamer that was traveling very rapidly.
“Looks like one of our small cruisers,” the first officer remarked to them.
And it was not until the war-ship was but some two or three miles astern that they knew that she was theEsmeralda.
“She is flying the San Salvador flag,” the officer remarked.
Gaunt ran for his glasses, and fixed them on the vessel of which he was the temporary owner and his heart beat more rapidly as he noticed her workmanlike appearance.
“She is doing well over twenty knots, and I should sayshe carries turbines. A smart little ship,” the friendly officer continued.
TheEsmeraldawas quickly overhauling them, and soon signal flags fluttered on theSaxonwhich were answered by the cruiser.
“What does she say?” Gaunt asked quickly.
“Only her name. She is not very communicative, and is evidently in a hurry.”
The smoke was belching from her stacks and she seemed to spurt forward so that theSaxonwas rapidly left behind.
It was late at night when they reached Las Palmas, and they went ashore at once, to be driven along pebbly streets to the Santa Catalina Hotel. Immediately upon their arrival Captain Drake left to visit the men who had already arrived and were awaiting them.
He ascertained from the officer who had been placed in charge that there had been no mishap, and that they were ready to embark at any moment.
Breakfast had been ordered for an early hour in the morning, and they had not been at the table very long before Captain Armstrong joined them.
“Everything all right?” asked Gaunt.
“Couldn’t be better,” the captain answered briskly. “I have a good lot of men and they are shaping well. Haven’t had trouble of any kind.”
“Good. Let us get breakfast over for we mustn’t stay here a moment longer than we can help.”
Tugs had been chartered, and by eleven o’clock the whole party had left the harbor. There had been many inquiries from the officials of the port, which Captain Armstrong had deftly turned aside.
An hour later they reached theEsmeralda; the men were quickly got on board and the tugs returned to Las Palmas.
Gaunt and the Drakes stood on the quarter-deck and looked around curiously. Yes. Captain Armstrong had done wonders in the short time at his disposal.
Six inch guns stared at them from squat turrets, and Edward Drake looked at Gaunt with something akin to awe.
“I am beginning to realize what it means. Maybe death, but life for the natives of the Congo,” he said in a low voice.
An order from the bridge and the flag of San Salvador was lowered. Then an ensign took its place, which was white with a red cross.
“She is doing close on twenty-five knots,” Captain Armstrong remarked as he joined them, and there was a look of pride on his face.
But no one answered, and the men looked at one another.
And Edward Drake sighed.