“Yes, Sahib. He cut off his great beard, and I took his luggage to the ship for him,—a great black steamer, full of English. I do not know the name of the ship.”
“Cut off his beard, eh? And you don’t know what ship it was, or where she went? Well, never mind, I can find that out myself. Your knowledge is distinctly limited, Hurris, but you’re a good boy, and I believe you’ve given me the key to the situation. It’s worth another rupee or two. Good-bye.”
He tossed the native three more rupees, and went to change his clothes, bursting with excited impatience. To-morrow he would know the mate’s destination.
As early as possible the next morning, he sought the Planters’ Hotel, and found that Baker Sahib had indeed been there since the 18th of March. This was the day after the arrival of the Andrea Sforzia at Bombay, and the coincidence of the dates was corroborative evidence. He had left on the 27th of March, and his destination was unknown at the hotel.
An examination of the shipping-lists, however, showed that on March 27th three passenger steamers had sailed from Bombay,—the Punjaub, for London; the Imperadora, for Southampton, and the Prince of Burmah for Hongkong. Elliott hastened to the city passenger offices of these lines, and begged permission to inspect the passenger-lists of their ships sailing on that day. The sheets of the Punjaub and of the Imperadora proved devoid of interest, but half-way down the list of the Prince of Burmah’s saloon passengers he came upon the name of Henry Baker. He was booked through to Hongkong.
The amazing improbability of this almost staggered Elliott. If the mate knew the secret of the treasure, why should he fly thus to the very antipodes; and if he knew no guilty secrets, why should he have secreted himself in Bombay, and cut off his beard for purposes of disguise?
Were Baker and Burke identical, after all? But the American consul’s brief description of the man tallied with that of Hurris Chunder, and Baker had arrived at the Planters’ Hotel the day after Burke had arrived in Bombay. Baker had brought with him oilskins from the wrecked ship, from which he alone had been picked up at that time.
It must be the mate, Elliott thought. In any case, Baker must know things of importance to the gold hunters, and Elliott cabled again to Zanzibar:
“Mate sailed Hongkong. Am following.”
Three days later he sailed for Hongkong himself. Up to the very moment of clearing port he was tormented with apprehensions that Sevier would appear on board. But, whatever were the researches of the Alabaman, they were evidently being conducted in a different quarter, and the weight gradually lifted from Elliott’s mind as the steamer ploughed slowly down the bay, past the white moored monitors and the little rocky islets of the peninsula. The treasure hunt had turned out a man hunt, but he hoped that he was upon the last stage of the long stern chase.