I recalled Vasco’s request for the loan of the Stella and the hesitating way in which he had explained that he had abandoned the idea of taking his companions for a day’s cruise.
Why was he on that other yacht? For a time my mind was so thronged with the crowd of suggestions arising out of Dagara’s statement, the events of the last few days, and now this enigma of a crewless yacht, that I had the greatest difficulty in picking a course. In my present mood I was ready to see matter for suspicion in anything, however trivial.
Presently Burroughs called to me. “He’s there now, Ralph.”
It was Vasco, sure enough. The glass showed his features plainly; and while I was watching, two other men came up on the deck and all three went ashore in a launch.
I returned to my seat completely bewildered. I had gained vitally important information, but had no idea what use to make of it. Rack my wits as I would, I couldn’t see the connecting link with Barosa’s plans.
Then all suddenly a wild thought occurred to me: far-fetched, extravagant, and grossly improbable; but not impossible.
It was that an attempt was to be made on the king’s life, and that this crewless yacht was to afford the means of escape for the assassins.
Possible or impossible I could put it to the test. It was good enough to form a working hypothesis, and I plunged into the consideration of the steps to take.
In the first place Dagara must go back to the city with the papers and these must find their way to Barosa.
I saw how to do that. I called Burroughs to me.