“That’s all right. But I doubt if you’ll make as big a scoop out of it as you think.”
“You mean the extradition? Oh, that will be arranged somehow.”
Mr Lechworthy was not thinking of extradition at all. He was thinking that owing to his participation in the King’s scheme of a native Faloo the exiles already had their warning, and long before Scotland Yard had got its gun to its shoulder the birds would have flown far out of range. But he said nothing of this to Parget at present; it might possibly make a yarn for a dull evening on the Snowflake.
“Of course,” added Parget, “I needn’t remind you, sir, that all I’ve said has been said in confidence. Not one word—”
“I assure you, Mr Parget, that I have no inclination to say a word. I shall not even mention the matter to my niece until we are all aboard the Snowflake. Your instructions to me will be carried out absolutely.”
“And when does the boat get in?”
“The King thinks that with luck it might be here to-morrow or the day after.”
“I’ll keep a look-out. Thank you again, sir.”
Lechworthy himself escorted the little man back to the garden entrance. Parget saw the natives with their rifles and seemed a little puzzled. “What does the King want all those men up here for? Where’s the danger? What’s he afraid of?”
“I can’t tell you,” said Lechworthy. “In fact, I don’t know. But I have noticed that the King never does anything without a reason, and it is generally a pretty good reason.”