The proprietor, on being summoned, told them that a small trading vessel, the Margherita, plied between the Italian and Dalmatian ports, frequently trading at Durazzo and Hagio Saranda. She was lying in the harbour, and would, no doubt, sail in the course of the afternoon. Maurice at once decided to go down to the harbour in company with the naval officer and interview the skipper, leaving George to look after the gyro-car and be on the watch for Slavianski and his crew.
There were two or three Austrian vessels in the harbour, including an Austrian-Lloyd liner bound for Trieste. Maurice had no doubt that, although the arrival of the green motor-car had not yet been reported, Slavianski had by this time reached the town. Probably he was keeping out of sight, but some of his party would be spying on the movements of the Englishmen. If they went openly on board the Margherita, she would almost certainly be followed by one of the Austrian vessels and overhauled at sea. But suddenly an idea occurred to Maurice: that the Margherita should put off at her appointed time, carrying some tins of petrol, if they could be taken on board without attracting attention. Somewhat later, the gyro-car should run to some little spot northward, take the water, join the vessel in the offing, and be towed by her across the Adriatic. By that means not only would petrol be saved, but immediate pursuit would be rendered impossible; for though Slavianski would certainly chase the gyro-car as soon as it was clear of Brindisi, he would be quite helpless when it ran into the sea, and be compelled to return. At any rate, much time would be gained.
The naval officer laughed when Maurice put this plan to him.
“This is strategy, if not diplomacy,” he said. “You are determined, I see; the next thing is to interview the skipper of the Margherita, and find out whether he will make terms with you.”
“Five English sovereigns will go a long way, I think,” returned Maurice.
And so it proved. The skipper, a stalwart native of Gallipoli, whose broad Southern patois was not easy to understand, readily agreed to undertake what was required of him. Maurice took him to a certain extent into his confidence, and he needed no persuasion to play a trick on Austrians. He suggested, as the spot to which the English signori should drive, Villanuova, a little place about thirty kilometres up the coast. It was not so far distant as Maurice would have liked, but Antonio Fagazzi assured him that beyond it the coast roads were impossible. The arrangement made was that the gyro-car should start about three hours after the Margherita sailed.
“When I have you in tow, signor,” said the skipper, “I will make all sail for Durazzo, and with the fair south wind behind us, we shall make port early to-morrow morning.”
“Durazzo is farther north than I want to go. On the other side I must make for Monastir and join the railway from Salonika. Hagio Saranda would suit me better.”
“We shall make better sailing to Durazzo, unless the wind shifts, signor,” said the skipper.
“Very well, we will be at Villanuova at dusk.”