The Kidnapped President

Next morning I was astir early, had had my breakfast, had paid my bill, and had seen my trunks on their way to the wharf, before a quarter to nine. On my arrival at the water's side, however, there was no sign of any yacht's boat. Some distance out I could perceive the Inter-Colonial mail steamer with a crowd of boats about her, and a dozen cables or so distant from her a handsome white yacht, which, I gathered, was to be my home for the next few weeks. I had just rewarded the porters, who had brought my luggage down, and had sent them about their business, when a neat gig, pulled by four men and steered by a fifth, came into view round the end of the jetty. Pulling up at the steps below me, the coxswain touched his hat and inquired whether he was addressing Mr. Trevelyan. Upon my answering in the affirmative, two of his men jumped ashore, and carried my baggage down to the boat. I thereupon took my place in the stern and we set off.

"That, I presume, is the Cynthia, lying astern of the mail-boat?" I said to the coxswain, as we pulled out into the harbour.

"Yes, sir, that's the Cynthia," he replied. "When you get a bit closer, sir, you'll say she's as fine a craft as you'd see in a long day's sail."

He certainly spoke the truth. The vessel in question could scarcely have been less than a thousand tons. (As a matter of fact that was her tonnage.) To my thinking, however, she was somewhat heavily sparred for her size, but the coxswain hastened to assure me a better sea-boat could not be found.

Captain Ferguson met me at the gangway, and saluted me as if I were really owner of the vessel and not a make-believe, such as I really was.

"You will find your cabin prepared for you," he said. "If you will permit me I'll show you to it."

Then, going on ahead, he conducted me into the main companion, and through an elegant saloon to a large and most comfortable cabin, evidently built and intended for the owner. It was a gorgeous affair. Indeed, the luxury of the vessel, what I had seen of it, astonished me. I had overhauled many yachts in my time, but had never seen one like this before. She was as spic and span as if she had only just left the builder's hands.

When I had seen my baggage arranged, I ascended to the deck, where I found Captain Ferguson in the act of getting under weigh. Ten minutes or so later, our anchor was aboard and we were steaming slowly out of the harbour. In an hour the island lay like a black dot upon the horizon behind us, and a few minutes later had vanished altogether. I was seated in the cabin with Captain Ferguson at the time, and when he rang the bell and ordered the servant who answered it to bring up a bottle of champagne, we pledged each other in it, and drank to the success of our enterprise.

"It's a small world, sir," he said at last, as he set down his glass, "and few of us really understand how small it is. I wonder what you'll say when you hear what I've got to tell you. I remember once being in Hong Kong. It was in the wet season, and I was on my way out to Japan to meet a boat in Nagasaki, that I was to take over on behalf of the Company I was then serving. On the evening of my arrival in Hong Kong I went ashore to dine with some friends, and didn't start to come off to the mail-boat until pretty late. When I did I hired a sampan and told one of the crew where my ship was. Thinking that he understood, I took my place under the covered arrangement that those boats have, and away we went. Perhaps I may have been a bit drowsy after the festivities of the evening. I'll not say anything about that, either way. The fact, however, remains, that we had not gone very far before I became conscious that there was something wrong. It seemed to me as if the tilt, or cover, under which I was sitting, was coming down upon me. I sprang to my feet and endeavoured to push it up, giving a shout as I did so."

All this time I had been listening to him with ill-concealed impatience. As I have already remarked, it had struck me on the previous evening that I had seen the man's face somewhere before.

"I think I can tell you the rest," I interrupted. "A ship's boat happened to be passing at the moment, and, on hearing your shout, she came alongside and a couple of men in her sprang aboard the sampan. I was one of those men. We bowled over the owner of the craft, and pulled you out from under the cover, just as you were about done for. Good heavens! I thought I recognized you last night at the hall door, and now you bring that adventure back to my mind, I remember you perfectly."

"And I you," he answered. "I've been puzzling my brains about your face all night. You had a moustache then, but I should know you now again. I don't think, Mr. Trevelyan, you will find me go into this business any the less warmly for what you did for me that night."

"You were right when you declared it to be a small world," I said. "Fancy our meeting again and on such an errand as this."

I then proceeded to question him concerning the officers and men under his charge.

"My chief officer," he said, "is a man of the name of Burgin. He has seen a good deal of rough-and-tumble work in various parts of the world, and, as I have satisfactorily proved, can be thoroughly relied on when it comes to a pinch. The second is a young fellow of the name of Brownlow. He took part in the last Cuban expedition, and had a bit of fighting afterwards in the Philippines. The crew number thirty all told, and have been most carefully selected. I have tested them in every way, and feel sure they can be reckoned upon to do their duty. Now perhaps you'd like to have a look round the vessel? You've seen next to nothing of her yet."

He accordingly conducted me over the yacht from stem to stern, until I was familiar with every detail. If I were to pose as a young Englishman whose hobby was yachting, I could scarcely have had a finer craft wherewith to indulge my fancy. She was a Clyde-built vessel of, as I have already said, exactly a thousand tons; her length was not far short of two hundred and fifty feet. Her engine-room was amidships, and was as perfectly fitted as everything else. The drawing-room was a model of beauty, while the saloon was capable of seating at least fifty persons. The quarters of the officers and crew left nothing to be desired on the score of comfort. Only on one question was the captain at all reticent, and that was concerning the identity of the yacht's owner. Her papers, I discovered, were made out in my name, or rather, I should say, in my assumed name, but whether she was the property of Silvestre, or of somebody else, I was never able to ascertain.

Though Silvestre had informed me that, from the moment I set foot on board, I should be considered the yacht's owner, I had not attached any great importance to the remark. I soon discovered, however, that there was more in it than I supposed. For instance, when I was told that evening that dinner was upon the table, I made my way to my cabin, prepared myself for it, and entered the saloon to find that I was expected to dine in solitary grandeur. Two men-servants were present to wait upon me, but there was no sign of the captain.

"Where is Captain Ferguson?" I inquired of one of the men when I had waited some two or three minutes for him to put in an appearance.

"He dines in the officers' mess, sir," the man replied.

Resolving to remedy this state of things on the morrow, and feeling that it was of no use my sending for him that night, I proceeded with my dinner without further remark. Accustomed as I was to good living on board a mail-boat, I can only say that, in all my experience, I had never met with anything like the meal that was served to me that evening. If Silvestre had given orders that my comfort was to be studied, he had certainly been carefully obeyed. When I rose from the table I went to my cabin, changed my coat, filled a pipe, and mounted with it to the bridge. Ferguson met me by the chart-room door, and expressed the hope that I had been made comfortable. I told him that the only fault I had to find was on the score of company, and went on to say that I expected him for the future to take his meals with me.

"It would be out of place for a captain to dine with his owner until he is invited to do so," he said, with a laugh. "However, if you wish it, I shall be very pleased to do so in the future."

I remember that it was a beautiful night; the sea was like glass, and the great stars overhead were reflected in the deep as in a mirror. As I smoked my pipe I thought of Molly, and wondered what she was doing at that moment. That I was a trifle homesick I will not deny. At ten o'clock Ferguson invited me to his cabin, and for about an hour we sat there discussing the business that lay before us. He had never visited Equinata before, but he was conversant with the character of the country. Having procured a chart from a locker, he made me aware of the whereabouts of the President's palace; showed me where he thought it would be best for the yacht to lie, and various other details that had struck him as being applicable to the case in hand.

"And now one other question: What do you know of Fernandez himself?" I inquired, when he had rolled up the chart and replaced it in the locker.

"Only what I have heard," he replied. "He is an exceedingly clever man, and as unscrupulous as any president who has ruled in South America, not excluding our friend Silvestre. It is quite certain that if he has the least suspicion of what we are after, ours is likely to be a short shrift. I presume you thought the whole business out well before you embarked upon it?"

I answered to the effect that I had given it all due consideration, and that whatever chances there might be I was prepared to take them. There was one question, however, that I had been desirous of putting to him ever since I had been on board, and now that we were alone together I resolved to ask it, and to risk his refusal to reply.

"With regard to Don Guzman de Silvestre," I said, "what do you know of him?"

Somewhat to my surprise he was quite frank with me.

"I know very little of him," he answered, "except that I owe my present position to him. Of one thing, however, I am aware, and that is the fact that he is not a man to be trifled with."

After a while I bade him good-night, and left him to go below to my cabin. Before entering the companion, however, I leant upon the bulwarks and gazed across the sea. Scarcely a sound broke the stillness of the night; the monotonous pacing of the officer of the watch, the look-out's cry, "All's well," and the throbbing of the engines, were all that broke the silence. I went over my talk with Ferguson again. After what he had said it appeared to me that the task I had undertaken was an almost hopeless one. One little mistake and my life would pay the forfeit. Failure seemed certain, and in that case what would happen to Molly and my mother? They would hope against hope, waiting for the man who would never return. I told myself that I was a fool ever to have had anything to do with the business. What was Don Guzman de Silvestre and his ambition to me? Why should I risk my life and my dear one's happiness for the sake of a paltry ten thousand pounds? In sheer disgust I turned on my heel and went to my cabin. Whatever my thoughts may have been on deck, they certainly did not trouble me very much below. I slept like a top all night, and when I came on deck next morning I had well-nigh forgotten my melancholy musings of the previous evening.

For the next four days our life scarcely varied. I read and smoked on deck, chatted with Ferguson, improved my acquaintance with the other officers, and counted the days until we should reach our destination. As you may suppose, it was a welcome moment when the skipper announced that we were only a matter of ten hours' steaming from the Republic of Equinata. Next morning a faint smudge was discernible on the horizon straight ahead of us; by breakfast-time this had taken to itself the appearance of land, and when I returned to the bridge after my meal, a range of mountain peaks were plainly to be seen. By ten o'clock we were near enough to discern the entrance to the harbour, and by half-past we were steaming in between the heads, to drop our anchor in the bay.

CHAPTER VI

La Gloria, the chief port and capital of the Republic of Equinata, is charmingly situated on the west side of an admirably shaped bay, and is land-locked, save for a distance of about half-a-mile. It boasts a population numbering upwards of thirty thousand, of which only some ten or twelve thousand are white, the remainder being half-castes, quadroons, mulattoes, and negroes unadulterated. The city possesses some fine buildings, notable among which is the Cathedral of San Pedro, a handsome edifice, though somewhat damaged by the earthquake of '83. The Houses of Parliament are also imposing structures, as befits a land where every man is a politician, and no boy knows what may be in store for him. There is also the President's palace, and, of course, an opera house, and equally of course a long stretch of barracks, where the soldiers would seem to spend their time smoking cigarettes and hatching plots against their superiors.

As we passed through the Heads and entered the harbour, it struck me I had never looked upon a fairer scene. The blue waters of the bay, the white houses peeping out from amid the wealth of foliage, and the mountains rising tier upon tier behind, made up as pretty a picture as the eye of man could desire to dwell upon. We had scarcely come to anchor before a boat put off to us, pulled by four stalwart niggers, and carrying a much-uniformed official, who sat beside the coxswain. He proved to be the health officer – a voluble little Spaniard, with a magnificent idea of his own importance. As soon as his boat was alongside he ran up the ladder to the gangway with the agility of a monkey, and made his way to the place where Captain Ferguson was waiting to receive him. During the years I had been in the South American trade, I had managed to pick up a considerable smattering of Spanish, enough at any rate to make myself understood by the Dons. I was not nearly so fluent with it, however, as was Ferguson, who, I soon discovered, could talk the lingo as well as any swell of Aragon. As soon as they had transacted their business, the latter brought the health officer along to the saloon whither I had descended, and where I was introduced to him as the owner of the yacht.

"You possess a most beautiful vessel, señor," he said, bowing before me as if he would never be able to straighten his back again.

"And you a most beautiful harbour and city," I replied, resolved not to be outdone in the matter of compliments.

"Am I to believe that this can be your first visit to Equinata, señor?" he asked as if in astonishment.

"Yes, my first," I replied in my best Trevelyan manner. "I can assure you, however, that I am charmed with it, most charmed."

"Ah, you must wait until you have been ashore," he continued, "then you will indeed be surprised. The Plaza, the Almeda, the Opera House, and the President's palace. Ah!" Here he paused and gave an airy wave of his hand as if to signify that, when I should come to view these wonders, I might indeed describe the city as being beautiful; until then, however, I could not pretend to any real notion of its glories.

"I shall be delighted to make its acquaintance," I returned, "and also to pay my respects to your most illustrious President, who, I hear, is beloved by all his people."

"Ah, the good President," said the little man, but without any great enthusiasm. "And his niece – the beautiful Señorita Dolores. I raise my glass to the most beautiful woman in Equinata." Thereupon, with his eyes turned to the deck above, he drank solemnly to the health of the lady of whose existence I then heard for the first time.

A little more desultory conversation followed, in the course of which I managed to extract from him, in a roundabout way, a quantity of information of which I stood in need. Then the little man hoisted himself out of his chair, and with a regret born of a bottle and a half of excellent champagne, stated his intention of returning to the shore once more. Having fired another salvo of compliments at me, he carried this plan into effect, and we saw no more of him. Half-an-hour later the Harbour Master and the Chief Customs official arrived, drank more champagne, with which you may be sure I liberally plied them, smoked a number of cigars, praised their city, their country, and their excellent selves, but did nothing in the way of performing their business, and in their turn departed for the shore. Then I lunched, spent an hour in meditation in an easy-chair under the awning, and then, having ordered a boat, prepared to set off on a tour of inspection of the capital.

The landing-place at La Gloria is, or was, very similar to that of most other South American seaports. That is to say, at some distant date, harbour works on a very large scale had been commenced, but for some reason had never been completed. Possibly a Revolution may have been accountable for the stoppage of the work, or the President, or Minister of Public Works, may have decamped with the funds. At any rate all there was to show for the money voted was one substantially built wharf, the commencement of a pier, and a quantity of uncut stone, which still remained, moss-covered and weather-worn, just where the contractors had dumped it down.

I landed at the wharf, and immediately dispatched the boat back to the yacht. Trustworthy though the crew might be, I had no desire that they should hang about the sea front and talk to the inhabitants. Then, leaving the wharf, I made my way into the town.

It was a picturesque place of the true Central American type. The Calle de San Pedro, which cuts the town proper in half, is a handsome thoroughfare, and contains numerous fine shops, warehouses, and merchants' offices. Indeed, the scene in the street on that particular afternoon was a most bright and animated one, and would not have discredited Rio or Buenos Ayres. Half-a-mile or so further on the street in question enters the Great Square, in which stand the Cathedral, the Houses of Parliament, the Law Courts, and, more important than all, so far as I was concerned, the President's palace. The centre is laid out as a public garden, and possesses a band-stand and many fine statues of the heroes of Equinata in impossible garbs and more impossible attitudes. Seating myself on a bench in this garden, I took careful stock of my surroundings. Opposite me was the President's palace, with a sentry lounging on either side of the gates. While I watched the latter were opened, and a handsome carriage drove in and pulled up before the massive portico of the palace. After that the gates were closed once more.

I do not mind confessing that at this point in my adventure I was at a loss to know how to proceed. I might visit the palace and inscribe my name in the visitors' book, but, so far as I could see, that would not do very much to help me. I consulted the card I had brought with me, and on which was written the name and address of the man to whom, so Silvestre had informed me at our last meeting, I was to look for assistance. His name was Don José de Hermaños, and his address was No. 13 in the Calle de San Juan. Before leaving the yacht I had taken the precaution to make myself familiar with the quarter in which the street was situated, and had ascertained that it commenced at the Houses of Parliament and ran straight through the western portion of the city, towards the foot of the mountains. I accordingly made my way thither, and having discovered it, proceeded in search of the house in which the mysterious Don José resided, or had his place of business. Greatly to my surprise it proved to be a wine merchant's shop, and I accordingly entered the little square patio and looked about me. On the left was what was evidently the office, and in it an old man, engaged on some mysterious manipulation of an empty cask. I addressed him in my best Spanish, but he took no sort of notice of me. I called to him again with the same result. Then having satisfied myself that the old fellow was deaf, I touched him on the shoulder with my stick. This had the desired effect, for he jumped quickly round and stared at me in amazement.

A more comical countenance than he possessed I don't remember ever to have seen. He was a mulatto, and, if one might judge from his appearance, some sixty years of age. He asked me in Spanish who I desired to see, and I replied to the best of my ability that I was in search of a gentleman named Hermaños. From the signs the other made I gathered that the latter was not at home. I endeavoured to question him concerning him, but the old fellow was either naturally dense, or, for some reason best known to himself, pretended not to understand. In another moment I should have left the place in despair, but, just as I was making up my mind to do so, the sound of a footstep in the patio outside attracted my attention. I turned to find myself face to face with a tall, well-proportioned stranger, with a black beard and a pair of bristling moustaches. The old mulatto forsook his task and handed the other the card I had given him. He glanced at it, then looked up from it to me, after which he politely returned it to me, saying as he did so —

"You desire to see Don Hermaños, señor?"

"That is what has brought me here," I answered.

"You come from our neighbours across the frontier, perhaps?" he continued, still eyeing me critically.

"On the contrary, I have come by sea," I replied. "I am an Englishman, as you have doubtless already observed, and my yacht is anchored in the harbour."

"In that case permit me to welcome you most heartily to Equinata," he returned, but without any great show of enthusiasm. "Perhaps you will accompany me to my private office, where I shall be pleased indeed to be of any service I can to you."

I followed him across the patio to a door on the further side. This he opened, and when I had passed into the room, he followed my example and closed it carefully after him.

"How am I to know that you are the gentleman whom I have been led to expect?" he began, when I had seated myself and he had offered me a cigar. "As wine of that particular vintage is very difficult to obtain, you must see yourself that I have to be most careful that I do not make the mistake of giving information concerning it to the wrong person."

I thereupon took my watch from my pocket, opened the case, and took a small piece of paper – which Silvestre had also given me at our last meeting – from it. This I handed to the man before me, who read what was written upon it very carefully, and then tore it up into tiny fragments.

"I am quite satisfied," he said, "and now to arrange the matter you desire." Then, dropping his voice almost to a whisper, he continued, "Of course I recognize the fact that you would not have been chosen for the work had you not been considered a person most likely to accomplish it. Nevertheless, I feel sure that you can have but a very small notion how dangerous it is likely to prove. The man in question mistrusts everybody, and should but a breath of suspicion attach itself to you, you would be in the cartel to-night, and most probably in your grave to-morrow morning. Though my opinions have not changed in a single particular, I am not at all certain that it is wise of me to mix myself up in it. However, I don't see exactly in what way I am to get out of it."

It struck me that the latter portion of his speech was spoken more to himself than to me.

"Before we go any further, it would perhaps be as well that I should convince myself that you are Don Hermaños," I said, for so far I had had no proof of his identity.

He did not answer me, but crossed to a writing-table on the other side of the room, and, unlocking a drawer, took from it a book. Turning to a certain page, he showed me a series of portraits of the prominent politicians of Equinata. One was a likeness of himself, and underneath was printed his name in full – Don José de Hermaños, Minister of Mines. I expressed myself as being quite satisfied.

"And now," I continued, "will you be good enough to tell me how you propose to introduce me to the Pres – " – here he held up his hand as if in expostulation – "to the individual whose acquaintance I am so anxious to make?"