To all appearances the consul had had news relative to these events in the gulf. As soon as Dick had finished, he slapped his hands excitedly.
“Jupiter!” he exclaimed. “This is more proof that Fingal is hand and glove with the revolutionists. This new move, Bob, means that that pair of scamps are off for the south to put a spoke in our wheel. We can’t delay the start an instant longer than we find necessary to finish our preparations.”
Before Bob could answer, an open carriage drove along the street. The doctor was in the rear seat supporting the captain. The latter looked like a very sick man indeed, and was leaning feebly against the doctor’s arm.
“Don’t tell him anything about Cassidy’s running away,” cautioned Bob, starting down the steps and toward the road. “It would only worry him, and we’ll carry out the work that has been given to us, in spite of Cassidy and Fingal.”
“He knows about it already,” said Dick. “We discovered Cassidy and the other chap making for the schooner while we were coming ashore.”
“Did the captain give Cassidy permission to leave the submarine?”
“No. Carl said that the captain became unconscious just when the mate started up to hoist the flag, and that the mate took another pull at the flask and went on up the conning-tower ladder. It was French leave he took, nothing less. As soon as Doctor Armstrong got to the Grampus he wasn’t any time at all in bringing the captain to his senses, and the first man Nemo, junior, asked about was Cassidy.”
By that time the carriage, which was proceeding slowly, was opposite Bob, Dick, and Jordan, who formed a little group on the sidewalk. In response to a gesture from the captain, the vehicle came to a halt.
“You are the American consul?” asked the captain, making an effort to straighten up.
“Yes,” replied Jordan.