“I must hear this.”
“In the garden, I think. It’s not talk to be overheard.”
The two men went down the steps of the verandah together.
CHAPTER IX
Sir John took a cigar from a golden and armorial case and snipped the end.
“Well, Hanson,” he said, “you’re a new man on the committee, and new men bring new ideas. So we are to attack the King, are we? It can be done, of course. You may leave the details to me, but if I saw the regrettable necessity, you may take it from me that Smith would be removed to-night. But what I do not see is how it would do us any good. Smith still stands between some of these angry natives and ourselves, though it’s a question how much longer he will do it. If the King goes, there is still Lechworthy. Then the Snowflake is coming back here. So, you see—”
“Yes, yes,” said Hanson. “But that is not the way the game should be played. Shall I tell you?”
“Certainly. That is what I want.” Sir John lit his cigar, and was careful not to throw the match down on the lawn, for he disliked untidiness.
“Our first move is to make a feint of accepting the situation. At the next meeting we go through the formalities of winding up the club; we discuss quite openly the means of getting away from the island, and speculate as to what will be the safest place to which to retreat. We allow Smith to hear all this, and from him, or from Pryce, it will go through to Lechworthy. Nobody but you and I, Sir John, will know it is a feint. We shall be doing nothing that will surprise Pryce, since he thinks it is the only thing left for us; and he had better not be told. I know the man is loyal, but I mean to cut out even the possibility of a mistake. The other side will continue the game according to their original plan. Lechworthy and his niece will sail away in the Snowflake, and take the next available steamer for England. Our second move is then—and not till then—to arrange for the disappearance of Smith. And that wins us the game.”