When he stopped outside the building, to which the royal arms were fixed, he remarked that two peons were lounging near, but, without troubling about them, knocked at the door. There was only a Vice-Consul at Santa Brigida, and the post, as sometimes happens, was held by a merchant, who had, so a clerk stated, already gone home. Dick, however, knew where he lived and determined to seek him at his house. He looked round once or twice on his way there, without seeing anybody who seemed to be following him, but when he reached the iron gate he thought a dark figure stopped in the gloom across the street. Still, it might only be a citizen going into his house, and Dick rang the bell.
He was shown on to a balcony where the Vice-Consul sat with his Spanish wife and daughter at a table laid with wine and fruit. He did not look pleased at being disturbed, but told Dick to sit down when the ladies withdrew.
“Now,” he said, “you can state your business, but I have an appointment in a quarter of an hour.”
Dick related his suspicions about the coaling company, and described what he had seen at Adexe and the visit of the black-funnel boat, but before he had gone far, realized that he was wasting his time. The Vice-Consul’s attitude was politely indulgent.
“This is a rather extraordinary tale,” he remarked when Dick stopped.
“I have told you what I saw and what I think it implies,” Dick answered with some heat.
“Just so. I do not doubt your honesty, but it is difficult to follow your arguments.”
“It oughtn’t to be difficult. You have heard that the French liner was sunk by a black-funnel boat.”
“Black funnels are common. Why do you imagine the vessel you saw was an auxiliary cruiser?”
“Because her crew looked like navy men. They were unusually numerous and were busy at drill.”