How much longer would it be, he wondered dully, before the coxswain in charge of the Blanco Encalada’s steam-launch became anxious about his long absence, and instituted inquiries, or returned to the flagship with the news? Admiral Williams was certainly not the man to allow to pass unchallenged such a gross violation of International Law as the seizure and imprisonment of a properly accredited envoy; but then, the people who had been guilty of this outrage had doubtless acted unofficially, and the intendénte would consequently deny all knowledge of the business. Surely, though—
But by this time Jim’s thoughts had become more and more confused, and his brain was refusing to act coherently. Flashes of lurid light passed before his eyes, and the horrible feeling of suffocation became ever more and more acute. Finally, with what he fancied was a shout for assistance, but it was, in reality, only a weak whisper, Jim lost consciousness altogether, and rolled from his couch on to the floor, where he lay like a log, breathing stertorously.
Almost at the same moment a section of the book-case surrounding the room moved inward, apparently of its own volition, and two men, one of whom was the man Lopés, crept cautiously into the apartment. Hastily seizing Jim’s inanimate body by the arms and legs, they dragged him out of the room, carried him down a long narrow passage and, opening the door of another room, took him inside and placed him on a bed which it contained.
“What a time the youngster took to go off, Manuel!” said the second fellow, addressing Lopés while he industriously searched Jim’s pockets. “I hope we have not given him an overdose, and killed him; for I expect the information that we shall extract from him will be worth a great deal more than that contained in the papers which he is sure to carry. By the way, I wonder where they can be? They are certainly not in his pockets. You are certain you have not made a mistake, amigo mio, and got hold of the wrong man?”
“Carrajo! no,” exclaimed Lopés testily. “This is the fellow, without doubt; I watched him all the way from the ship. Here, lend me your knife, and I will rip up his clothes; he is certain to have suspected treachery after I locked him in, and will have secreted the documents somewhere. Ah! here they are. Now, read them out to me, Carlos, while I try to bring the hijo round.”
There was silence for a few minutes, broken only by the rustle of paper; then, with an oath, the man called Carlos dashed the packet down, saying, in a voice hoarse with excitement and rage: “Carramba, Lopés you are a fool! you have made a mistake somewhere. This is not the man at all! I suspected as much when I saw that it was only a boy that you had captured. These papers are simply a notification from the admiral of the Chilians that the condensation of water is to cease! While we have been wasting time here the other fellow will have come ashore and returned again, with the papers still in his possession! Oh! Lopés, you are a mule, cabeza de porco! All our trouble has been in vain.”
“Softly, softly, my friend,” replied Manuel. “Even if we have, as you say, secured the wrong messenger, all our trouble will not have been useless. You may have observed, caro mio, that this is a flag-officer, and he will be certain to have knowledge of a great many of Rebolledo Williams’s plans. Very well; when he recovers we will take measures to induce him—ha! ha!—to tell us all he knows. After the attention of an hour or so which we will give him, and with the assistance of certain little instruments which we possess, we will get out of him all the information he has. It is wonderful,” he went on musingly, “how communicative a man will become—under certain circumstances.”
The man Carlos looked at his fellow-scoundrel for a few moments, and then broke out into a hoarse chuckle.
“All right, querido; I understand,” he laughed. “We will remove him, however, for the present, to less comfortable quarters, as he seems to be on the point of recovery. Lift up his feet, mi amigo, while I take his arms as before.” Suiting the action to the word, the two men seized Jim’s body and carried it away down another passage, until they came to a flight of stone stairs, down which they went into the very bowels of the earth, as it seemed. Presently they encountered a massive stone door which, on being opened, disclosed a damp and unspeakably filthy cell. Into this they tossed the unfortunate officer, and, without caring, apparently, whether they broke every bone in his body or not, kicked him unmercifully into the centre of the dungeon, and then turned and left him.
Although the two scoundrels had been under the impression that Jim Douglas was on the point of recovery from unconsciousness when they thus callously tossed him into the cell, they were mistaken; for they found, upon revisiting him several hours later, that he was still in a state of insensibility. The two rascals then became not a little alarmed for the success of their scheme, and they at once did all in their power to revive their victim, with the result that, late that same evening, he recovered his senses, although he was much too dazed to answer the questions which they tried to put to him. The men therefore gave up their attempt for that night, and left Jim in peace, handing him a little bread and water, and promising themselves that they would return early the next morning.