A Bid for Fortune, Guy Boothby [easy books to read TXT] 📗
- Author: Guy Boothby
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“One night, a month after my wife’s death, returning to my house I was garrotted and searched within a hundred yards of my own front door, but my assailants could not find it on me. Then peculiar pressure from other quarters was brought to bear; my servants were bribed, and my life became almost a burden to me. What was more, I began to develop that extraordinary fear of Nikola which seems to seize upon everyone who has any dealings with him. When I went home to England some months back, I did it because my spirits had got into such a depressed state that I could not remain in Australia. But I took care to deposit the stick with my plate in the bank before I left. There it remained till I returned, when I put it back in its old hiding-place again.
“The day after I reached London I happened to be crossing Trafalgar Square. Believing that I had left him at least ten thousand miles away, you may imagine my horror when I saw Dr. Nikola watching me from the other side of the road. Then and there I returned to my hotel, bade Phyllis pack with all possible dispatch, and that same afternoon we started to return to Australia. The rest you know. Now what do you think of it all?”
“It’s an extraordinary story. Where is the stick at the present moment?”
“In my pocket. Would you like to see it?”
“Very much, if you would permit me to do so.” He unbuttoned his coat, and from a carefully contrived pocket under the arm drew out a little piece of wood of exactly the length and shape he had described. I took it from him and gazed at it carefully. It was covered all over with Chinese writing, and had a piece of gold silk attached to the handle. There was nothing very remarkable about it; but I must own I was strangely fascinated by it when I remembered the misery it had caused, the changes and chances it had brought about, the weird story told by China Pete, and the efforts that had been made by Nikola to obtain possession of it. I gave it back to its owner, and then stood looking out over the smooth sea, wondering where Phyllis was and what she was doing. Nikola, when I met him, would have a heavy account to settle with me, and if my darling reported any further cruelty on his part I would show no mercy. But why had Mr. Wetherell brought the curio with him now?
I put the question to him.
“For one very good reason,” he answered. “If it is the stick Nikola is after, as I have every right to suppose, he may demand it as a ransom for my girl, and I am quite willing to let him have it. The wretched thing has caused sufficient misery to make me only too glad to be rid of it.”
“I hope, however, we shall be able to get her without giving it up,” I said. “Now let us go aft to lunch.”
The day following we were within a hundred miles of our destination, and by midday of the day following that again were near enough to render it advisable to hold a council over our intended movements. Accordingly, a little before lunchtime the Marquis, Wetherell, the skipper and myself, met under the after awning to consider our plan of war. The vessel herself was hove to, for we had no desire to put in an appearance at the island during daylight.
“The first matter to be taken into consideration, I think, Mr. Wetherell,” said the skipper, “is the point as to which side of the island we shall bring up on.”
“You will be able to settle that,” answered Wetherell, looking at me. “You are acquainted with the place, and can best advise us.”
“I will do so to the best of my ability,” I said, sitting down on the deck and drawing an outline with a piece of chalk. “The island is shaped like this. There is no reef. Here is the best anchorage, without doubt, but here is the point where we shall be most likely to approach without being observed. The trend of the land is all upward from the shore, and, as far as I remember, the most likely spot for a hut, if they are detaining Miss Wetherell there, as we suppose, will be on a little plateau looking south, and hard by the only fresh water on the island.”
“And what sort of anchorage shall we get there, do you think?” asked the skipper, who very properly wished to run no risk with his owner’s boat.
“Mostly coral. None too good, perhaps, but as we shall have steam up, quite safe enough.”
“And how do you propose that we shall reach the hut when we land? Is there any undergrowth, or must we climb the hill under the enemy’s fire?”
“I have been thinking that out,” I said, “and I have come to the conclusion that the best plan would be for us to approach the island after dark, to heave to about three miles out and pull ashore in the boat. We will then ascend the hill by the eastern slope and descend upon them. They will probably not expect us from that quarter, and it will at least be easier than climbing the hill in the face of a heavy fire. What do you say?”
They all agreed that it seemed practicable.
“Very good then,” said the skipper, “we’ll have lunch and afterwards begin our preparations.” Then turning to me, “I’ll get you to come into my cabin, Mr. Hatteras, by-and-by and take a look at the Admiralty chart, if you will. You will be able probably to tell me if you think it
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