Homepage
Login
Profile
BookClubs
dmBox
Read Ebook: The Pursuit by Savile Frank Frank Mackenzie Pfeifer Herman Illustrator
Font size:
Background color:
Text color:
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page
Ebook has 1569 lines and 54687 words, and 32 pages
e persuaded to embark with these imbeciles below, of whom one is drunk and the other witless. I have already had an hour of monotonous adventure in the gloom; I am a little tired of being very reasonably cursed by master mariners whose vessels we have been ambitious enough to ram. It struck me that perchance you would be sending a boat ashore within the course of an hour or so, and might permit me to wait on deck and be a passenger in it. If so, my gratitude would be beyond words. It is not only for myself. My little son is delicate; I do not wish to expose him longer than is necessary to the chill of these vile vapors."
Monsieur overflowed with thanks. He would dismiss the villains who had led him into such a coil, and then hold himself at M. le Commandant's service.
He leaned over and gave his orders. Muhammed turned to Ibrahim.
"Remove yourself and your master, oh, son of dirt, from these surroundings with the utmost speed, or I have the promise of the captain of this warship that he will send you in chains ashore to answer for your crime in wilfully colliding with his vessel. Your bowsprit? What have I to do with the results of your own vile seamanship? Have haste or Allah alone knows what will betide from the mouth of one of these guns."
He gathered the child up into his arms and stalked with dignity up the companion.
Another gust sang lazily from the shore and the desert and shivered the fog. The patches of blue joined, grew wider, opened a triumphal arch for the descending sunbeams' entrance. A little more than a mile away the walls of the sea bastions shone white. The launch's speed increased.
Before they reached the quayside the last wisp of vapor had disappeared. Land and sea were swathed in sun. Landon gave a little cackle of amusement and pointed behind him.
"My yacht!" he cried gaily. "My over-anxious master has weighed anchor in pursuit of me. Word must have reached him of my having allowed myself to be persuaded into that vile lateen."
The sub-lieutenant in charge swerved the tiller.
"Let me take you straight to her," he said. "Let me signal her!"
Landon appeared to consider.
"Thanks, a thousand times," he said, "but a small matter of victualling which I promised my steward to deal with has just recurred to my mind. I will see to it and then signal for my own boat. After all, too, I might see a little of the town, now we have the sunshine to illuminate it. A couple of hours ago it was London in November, with a few additional smells!"
The lieutenant laughed and turned the prow towards the shore again. He cast another look over his shoulder.
"Is it possible that your master has information of, or suspects, that very lateen? It appears to me that he is chasing it!"
Landon faced seaward and observed the yacht keenly.
He laughed with great enjoyment.
"He is a character, that skipper of mine," he said. "He is as likely as not to sink the unfortunate boat if he does not find me on board or get a reasonable account of me. I shall have to smooth matters down with a dollar or two."
A minute later the launch slowed up against the little quay. The three passengers stepped ashore, Landon full of compliments and thanks. Still waving adieu, he, Muhammed, and the child paced contentedly off into the town. The lieutenant turned seaward again.
RATTIER LOSES HIS CALM
Major D'Hubert, Provost Marshal of the French forces occupying Casablanca, grinned widely.
"So you suffered him to escape?" he said.
Commandant Rattier drummed fiercely on the office table.
The soldier smiled and looked at Rattier's companion--Aylmer.
Aylmer shrugged his shoulders.
"The man can make himself of an engaging personality, Major. Our friend acted according to the impulses of his generous soul. But the point is that our man is hidden in the town. We come to you for expert knowledge. Who would be likely to shelter him, and where? You will pardon our insistence and intrusion, but our need is very pressing. It is the child who is our concern, the child."
D'Hubert made a gesture of assent.
"Apart from my sincere affection for our simpleminded commandant, Monsieur, your tale is good enough for any honest man and a father of babes like myself. But this town of Casablanca is, in effect, a haystack. Your quarry has the best of chances to act the needle."
He opened a door into an outer office and shouted a name.
"Sergeant Perinaud!"
A body filled the doorway and entered, bending the last few inches of its stature. The sergeant saluted and unfolded himself, his eyes reviewing the company with affable respect about two metres above the floor.
"Visit the guardroom at each gate, see the lieutenants of the Spanish police and bring me back a list of parties which have left the town since morning. This is a matter of haste."
The sergeant saluted again and then hesitated.
"Is it permitted first to speak?" he asked.
The major nodded jerkily.
"It is, by chance, the movements of two men and a woman which are in question?" speculated Perinaud.
Major d'Hubert opened his lips, shut them tight, meditated a moment, and then spoke. He turned and looked at his visitors.
"The child? Is it of a stature to be disguised as a woman?" he asked.
The sergeant interrupted with an apologetic gesture.
"You observed the men?"
The major sat down at his desk, wrote a few lines swiftly, dashed sand upon the ink, and handed the completed note to his underling.
As the giant saluted for the third time and diminished himself into the doorway, Major d'Hubert confronted his friends with a pessimistic shake of the head.
"My instinct is that Perinaud has already put his finger on the mystery. Your milord must be a man of resource. To have engaged the services of some of these wolves of Beni M'Geel within an hour of landing in a strange town shows more than talent. It amounts to genius."
"This servant of his, Muhammed, is no stranger to the port," said Aylmer. "We learned that before we left Tangier. He is a well-known gun runner, and stands high in his profession. He has made these arrangements."
Commandant Rattier flung aside his taciturnity with a suddenly impulsive oath.
"Name of all little names!" he cried. "Do we sit and discuss this matter as if it were a comedietta in which we take no more than the languid interest of the dilettante! Are they not to be pursued--this past master of perjury and his lieutenant? Are we to mount the town walls and wave them affectionate farewells?"
D'Hubert arched his brows with protest.
"Permission!" Rattier roared the word in the major's face. "I, Paul Rattier, do you see, have been made the laughing-stock of the fleet and, in time, no doubt, of half Europe! Am I to wait your general's permission to chase this scoundrel to Timbuctoo, if I so wish? I am the senior officer of marine here. I give myself leave, understand me--I!"
"And these amiable Berbers?" asked the major, sarcastically. "Supposing they turn upon you and demand your reasons, and estimate your powers? Suppose, to be blunt, my friend, they put a bullet through your brains?"
"Would that be any worse than wearing this hat of ridicule which this Baron de Landon has put upon my head? No Moor or Touareg or Berber shall stand between me and the object of my just retaliation, if I confront him!"
A small bell tinkled in a corner. D'Hubert made a gesture of apology as he went towards a cabinet screened from the general office. He came back grinning.
Rattier stood for an instant motionless. Then he turned and darted for the door.
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page