Amongst the latter was the Victor Strozzi, the felucca Arthur Reeves had chartered; but unwittingly Hugh and his chum were being taken off to the Victor Stroggia, a subsidized merchantman about to leave for the African coast.
Paying and dismissing their boatman, the lads threaded their way up the steep accommodation ladder, which was crowded with the relatives of the army officers, who, having bade their relations a long farewell, were slowly and reluctantly descending to the boats waiting at the foot of the ladder.
In the confusion, Hugh and his chum passed the quartermaster at the gangway unnoticed, and found themselves standing on the packed troop deck. The warning bell had already sounded, and the visitors were nearly all gone, but the grey-clad infantrymen, eager to take a last glimpse of their beloved Italy, were too engrossed to notice the two bewildered lads.
"Can you tell me where I can find Signor Reeves?" asked Hugh, in his best but execrable Italian, addressing a corporal.
The soldier, being a stranger to the ship, passed the question to a seaman.
"Signor Riefi? Ohé!" Beckoning to the lads to follow, the man turned and dived down a hatchway. Through the semi-gloom of a badly lighted alleyway Hugh and Gerald kept at the heels of their guide, till he stopped and knocked at the door of a cabin on the half-deck aft.
Receiving no reply, the man knocked again and opened the door.
"The signor is out; but if the signori will be pleased to wait, I will find him," said the sailor, and the next instant Hugh and Gerald were alone.
They waited and waited, but still no Mr. Reeves appeared. Presently came the dull thud of the propeller revolving.
Gerald glanced at his watch. It was a quarter to five.