He smiled.
“Is that the dodge?” he exclaimed. “Of course, I was posted in the movements of the Portuguese and his friends, but the trip to Madeira is clever. What has caused the change of programme?”
She told him, and he banged a clenched fist emphatically on a table which a steward had just arranged for tea.
“For once, I can find it in my heart to wish you were a man,” he cried. “A steamer starts for Lagos within two hours, and it would be a fine thing if the Nigeria administration heard your story from your own lips. Of course, I can write, but it is difficult to put on paper one’s guesses and surmises at the trickery that is going on.”
The words were scarcely uttered ere a wild notion leaped into Evelyn’s brain. Why should she not go to Lagos? She might be able to clear away some of the doubts and misgivings that must have gathered around Warden’s name. Above all else, if there was news of him, it would surely reach the officials there long before it became known in England.
“If I were a man,” she said tremulously, “would you pay my passage on that ship?”
“Of course. You would be traveling on Government service.”
“Then I shall go. Please arrange matters for me, and send some one to take me on board.”
“Do you mean it?” he cried.
“Yes.”