A Bid for Fortune - Guy Boothby (ready player one ebook TXT) 📗

“Ten,” said the younger sharply. “No larks, Sally. I know too much for you!”

“Oh, you know a lot, honey, don’t you? Of course you’d be expected to know more than old Aunt Sally, who’s never seen anything at all, wouldn’t you? Go along with you!”

“Hand me over the money I say, and let me be off!”

“Of course you do know a lot more, don’t you? There’s a pound!” While they were wrangling over the payment I crept down the passage again to the front door. Once I had reached it, I opened it softly and went out, closing it carefully behind me. Then I took to my heels and ran down the street in the direction I had come. Enquiring my way here and there from policemen, I eventually reached home, scaled the wall, and went across the garden to the morning-room window. This I opened, and by its help made my way into the house and upstairs. As I had expected that he would have gone to bed, my astonishment was considerable at meeting Mr. Wetherell on the landing.

“Well, what have you discovered?” he asked anxiously as I came up to him.

“Information of the greatest importance,” I answered; “but one other thing first. Call up your housekeeper, and tell her you have reason to believe that one of the maids is not in the house. Warn her not to mention you in the matter, but to discharge the girl before breakfast. By the time you’ve done that I’ll have changed my things and be ready to tell you everything.”

“I’ll go and rouse her at once; I’m all impatience to know what you have discovered.”

He left me and passed through the green baize door to the servants’ wing; while I went to my bedroom and changed my things. This done, I passed into the study, where I found a meal awaiting me. To this I did ample justice, for my long walk and the excitement of the evening had given me an unusual appetite.

Just as I was cutting myself a third slice of beef Mr. Wetherell returned, and informed me that the housekeeper was on the alert, and would receive the girl on her reappearance.

“Now tell me of your doings,” said old gentleman.

I thereupon narrated all that had occurred since I left the study in search of my pipe⁠—how I had seen the girl listening at the door, how I had followed her into the town; gave him a description of old Sally, the maid’s interview with her, and my subsequent return home. He listened eagerly, and, when I had finished, said:

“Do you believe then that my poor girl has been carried off by Nikola to this island called Pipa Lannu?”

“I do; there seems to be no doubt at all about it.”

“Well then, what are we to do to rescue her? Shall I ask the Government to send a gunboat down?”

“If you think it best; but, for my own part, I must own I should act independently of them. You don’t want to make a big sensation, I presume; and remember, to arrest Nikola would be to open the whole affair.”

“Then what do you propose?”

“I propose,” I answered, “that we charter a small schooner, fit her out, select half a dozen trustworthy and silent men, and then take our departure for Pipa Lannu. I am well acquainted with the island, and, what’s more, I hold a master’s certificate. We would sail in after dark, arm all our party thoroughly, and go ashore. I expect they will be keeping your daughter a prisoner in a hut. If that is so, we will surround it and rescue her without any trouble or fuss, and, what is better still, without any public scandal. What do you think?”

“I quite agree with what you say. I think it’s an excellent idea; and, while you’ve been speaking, I too have been thinking of something. There’s my old friend McMurtough, who has a nice steam yacht. I’m sure he’d be willing to let us have the use of her for a few weeks.”

“Where does he live?⁠—far from here?”

“His office would be best; we’ll go over and see him directly after breakfast if you like.”

“By all means. Now I think I’ll go and take a little nap; I feel quite worn out. When the Inspector arrives you will be able to explain all that has happened; but I think I should ask him to keep a quiet tongue in his head about the island. If it leaks out at all, it may warn them, and they’ll be off elsewhere⁠—to a place perhaps where we may not be able to find them.”

“I’ll remember,” said Mr. Wetherell, and thereupon I retired to my room, and, having partially undressed, threw myself upon my bed. In less than two minutes I was fast asleep, never waking until the first gong sounded for breakfast; then, after a good bath, which refreshed me wonderfully, I dressed in my usual habiliments, and went downstairs. Mr. Wetherell and the Marquis were in the dining-room, and when I entered both he and the Marquis, who held a copy of the Sydney Morning Herald in his hand, seemed prodigiously excited.

“I say, Mr. Hatteras,” said the latter (after I had said ‘Good morning’), “here’s an advertisement which is evidently intended for you!”

“What is it about?” I asked. “Who wants to advertise for me?”

“Read for yourself,” said the Marquis, giving me the paper.

I took it, and glanced down the column to which he referred me until I came to the following:

Richard Hatteras.⁠—If this should meet the eye of Mr. Richard Hatteras of Thursday Island, Torres Straits, lately returned from England, and believed to be now in Sydney; he is earnestly requested to call at the office of Messrs Dawson & Gladman, Solicitors, Castlereagh Street, where he will hear of something to his advantage.

There could be no doubt at all that I was the person referred to; but what could be the reason of it all? What was there that I could possibly hear to my advantage,