Facing the Flag (An Intriguing Tale of Piracy, Action & Adventure). Jules VerneЧитать онлайн книгу.
him without being first spoken to.
At last when they stood beneath the rear wall behind which, though it was not visible, the Count knew Pavilion No. 17 was situated, he said:
“You managed, I presume, to thoroughly explore the place, and are acquainted with every detail of it?”
“Certainly, Count” replied Captain Spade, emphasizing the title.
“You are perfectly sure about it?”
“Perfectly. I could go through the park with my eyes shut. If you still persist in carrying out your scheme the pavilion can be easily reached.”
“I do persist, Spade.”
“Notwithstanding Thomas Roch’s mental condition?”
“Notwithstanding his condition; and if we succeed in carrying him off–-“
“That is my affair. When night comes on I undertake to enter the park of Healthful House, and then the pavilion garden without being seen by anybody.”
“By the entrance gate?”
“No, on this side.”
“Yes, but on this side there is the wall, and if you succeed in climbing it, how are you going to get over it again with Thomas Roch? What if the madman cries out—what if he should resist—what if his keeper gives the alarm?”
“Don’t worry yourself in the least about that. We have only got to go in and come out by this door.”
Captain Spade pointed to a narrow door let into the wall a few paces distant, and which was doubtless used by the staff of the establishment when they had occasion to go out by the river.
“That is the way I propose to go in. It’s much easier than scaling the wall with a ladder.”
“But the door is closed.”
“It will open.”
“Has it no bolts?”
“Yes, but I shot them back while we were strolling about, and the director didn’t notice what I had done.”
“How are you going to open it?” queried the Count, going to the door.
“Here is the key,” replied Spade, producing it.
He had withdrawn it from the lock, where it happened to be, when he had unbolted the door.
“Capital!” exclaimed the Count. “It couldn’t be better. The business will be easier than I expected. Let us get back to the schooner. At eight o’clock one of the boats will put you ashore with five men.”
“Yes, five men will do,” said Captain Spade. “There will be enough of them to effect our object even if the keeper is aroused and it becomes necessary to put him out of the way.”
“Put him out of the way—well, if it becomes absolutely necessary of course you must, but it would be better to seize him too and bring him aboard the Ebba Who knows but what he has already learned a part of Roch’s secret?”
“True.”
“Besides, Thomas Roch is used to him, and I don’t propose to make him change his habitudes in any way.”
This observation was accompanied by such a significant smile that Captain Spade could entertain no doubt as to the rôle reserved for the warder of Healthful House.
The plan to kidnap them both was thus settled, and appeared to have every chance of being successful; unless during the couple of hours of daylight that yet remained it was noticed that the key of the door had been stolen and the bolts drawn back, Captain Spade and his men could at least count upon being able to enter the park, and the rest, the captain affirmed, would be easy enough.
Thomas Roch was the only patient in the establishment isolated and kept under special surveillance. All the other invalids lived in the main building, or occupied pavilions in the front of the park. The plan was to try and seize Roch and Gaydon separately and bind and gag them before they could cry out.
The Count d’Artigas and his companion wended their way to a creek where one of the Ebba’s boats awaited them. The schooner was anchored two cable lengths from the shore, her sails neatly rolled upon her yards, which were squared as neatly as those of a pleasure yacht or of a man-of-war. At the peak of the mainmast a narrow red pennant was gently swayed by the wind, which came in fitful puffs from the east.
The Count and the captain jumped into the boat and a few strokes of the four oars brought them alongside of the schooner. They climbed on deck and going forward to the jib-boom, leaned over the starboard bulwark and gazed at an object that floated on the water a few strokes ahead of the vessel. It was a small buoy that was rocked by the ripple of the ebbing tide.
Twilight gradually set in, and the outline of New-Berne on the left bank of the sinuous Neuse became more and more indistinct until it disappeared in the deepening shades of night. A mist set in from the sea, but though it obscured the moon it brought no sign of rain. The lights gleamed out one by one in the houses of the town. The fishing smacks came slowly up the river to their anchorage, impelled by the oars of their crews which struck the water with sharp, rhythmical strokes, and with their sails distended on the chance of catching an occasional puff of the dropping wind to help them along. A couple of steamers passed, sending up volumes of black smoke and myriads of sparks from their double stacks, and lashing the water into foam with their powerful paddles.
At eight o’clock the Count d’Artigas appeared on the schooner’s deck accompanied by a man about fifty years of age, to whom he remarked:
“It is time to go, Serko.”
“Very well, I will tell Spade,” replied Serko.
At that moment the captain joined them.
“You had better get ready to go,” said the Count.
“All is ready.”
“Be careful to prevent any alarm being given, and arrange matters so that no one will for a minute suspect that Thomas Roch and his keeper have been brought on board the Ebba.”
“They wouldn’t find them if they came to look for them,” observed Serko, shrugging his shoulders and laughing heartily as though he had perpetrated a huge joke.
“Nevertheless, it is better not to arouse their suspicion,” said d’Artigas.
The boat was lowered, and Captain Spade and five sailors took their places in it. Four of the latter got out the oars. The boatswain, Effrondat, who was to remain in charge of the boat, went to the stern beside Captain Spade and took the tiller.
“Good luck, Spade,” said Serko with a smile, “and don’t make more noise about it than if you were a gallant carrying off his lady-love.”
“I won’t—unless that Gaydon chap—”
“We must have both Roch and Gaydon,” insisted the Count d’Artigas.
“That is understood,” replied Spade.
The boat pushed off, and the sailors on the deck of the schooner watched it till it was lost to sight in the darkness.
Pending its return, no preparations for the Ebba’s departure were made. Perhaps there was no intention of quitting the port after the men had been kidnapped. Besides, how could the vessel have reached the open sea? Not a breath of air was now stirring, and in half an hour the tide would be setting in again, and rising strongly and rapidly for several miles above New-Berne.
Anchored, as has already been said, a couple of cable-lengths from the shore, the Ebba might have been brought much nearer to it, for the water was deep enough, and this would have facilitated the task of the kidnappers when they returned from their expedition. If, however, the Count d’Artigas preferred to let the vessel stay where she was, he probably had his reasons.
Not a soul was in sight on the bank, and the road, with its borders of beech trees that skirted