I felt now that I should succeed in the difficult task I had set myself. The plan I had conceived and hoped to work out was to send Lord Blackadder to sea, all the way to Tripoli, with Philpotts and the sham child.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
We drove down, Philpotts and I, to the wharf where the steamers of the Transatlantique Company lie. The Oasis had her blue peter flying, and a long gangway stretched from her side to the shore, up and down which a crowd passed ceaselessly, passengers embarking, porters with luggage, and dock hands with freight. At the top of the slope was the chief steward and his men, in full dress, white shirts, white ties, and white gloves, who welcomed us, asking the number of our stateroom, and offering to relieve us of our light baggage.
One put out his arms to take the baby from Philpotts, but she shook her head vigorously, and I cried in French that it was too precious.
Next moment a voice I recognized said:
"Certainly they are there, and they have it with them. Why not seize it at once?"
"Not so fast, Lord Blackadder," I interposed, turning on him fiercely. "No violence, if you please, or you may make the acquaintance of another police commissary."
I had heard the whole story of the affair at Aix from the Colonel, who I may say at once I had seen shortly before, and who was at no great distance now.
"Go on, Philpotts, get down below and lock yourself in," I said boldly. "Our cabin is thirty-seven—" checking myself abruptly as though I had been too outspoken.