I told him briefly what had occurred, and what I meant to do, and in a few minutes we were on our way to the Stella.
“You’re taking risks,” he said, as we sat talking it over.
“I can’t help that, but in fact I’m not so sure there are any. My idea is this. As soon as we reach the yacht, get the Firefly launched.” This was a small electric launch I had on the yacht. “You and I will drop down in her to the Rampallo. She runs with scarcely a sound, and we’ll see whether any look-out is kept on her. I shall be surprised if there is; and if not, I shall climb aboard without any trouble. If there is one, you must manage to keep him watching you at the stern while I swim to the bow and get aboard by the anchor cable. Once on board, I’ll shift for myself. If necessary I’ll silence him.”
“It sounds all right to you, perhaps,” he grumbled.
“It’s got to be all right, Jack. The worst that can happen is that I shall be discovered and have to make a bolt of it. I suppose I can dive well enough to jump from a yacht’s bulwarks. But even if the beggars get hold of me, I suppose you can make enough row to scare them. Have the launch within hail, if you like, with the skipper and four or five of the men. There’s no personal risk at all—the only risk is that I may fail to find out things.”
“But if they caught you they might shoot first and jaw afterwards,” he objected.
“A dozen ‘ifs’ suggest a dozen ‘mights,’ of course. But I’m not likely to give them much of a chance.”
“They’d be justified if they took you for a thief.”
“They won’t be thinking about thieves. They’re much more likely to be fearing the police and be scared out of their skins. Anyway, it’s the best plan I can think of, and it’s got to be done.”
When we reached the Stella I threw off the clothes I had been wearing and dressed for the venture. I had of course to render myself as little conspicuous as possible for the spy work on the Rampallo, and had also to be careful not to wear anything which would hamper me too much if I had to take to the water.