If it were true the situation looked very grave. There were reports that a battle had been fought outside the town of Zandovar between the gallant Valderians and the invaders. The British had been compelled to retreat to their ships, leaving over five hundred men prisoners in the hands of the victors. More, two English battleships had been sunk by mines, and the rest had stood out to sea.
Dacres simply roared. The rumours were so utterly unlikely.
"It may be true," said Henri gravely. "The best generalled armies make the mistake at times. The Italians at Adowah, the Russians in Manchuria, and the English in South Africa, par exemple."
"Then, if it is true we'll find the Cavarale chock-a-block with British prisoners," said Dacres. "So we'll wait and see."
When, after a slow and irksome journey, the train entered Naocuanha station, Dacres and his companion were pounced upon and questioned by half a dozen gaudily-uniformed officials. Their pass had to be examined, signed and countersigned by men who could hardly write their names, their baggage being searched, and even the contents of their pockets scrutinized. Dacres realized that had he attempted to don artificial hair and whiskers as a disguise he would have been detected before he left the platform.
At length the ordeal was passed, and escorted by four soldiers the two "electrical experts" made their way to an hotel.
The city of Naocuanha was under martial law. There were troops—for the most part ill-clad, ill-armed, and badly disciplined—everywhere. Most of the shops were shut, and had their windows boarded up. In several places barricades had been thrown across the streets and machine guns placed in position. The steam-cars and public vehicles had either been kept in their sheds or pressed into military service. Everywhere notices were posted up, warning the civil population to be in their houses by sunset under pain of fine and imprisonment.
"This doesn't look like a British reverse," thought Dacres. "The whole crowd of them are in a mortal funk. That's quite evident."
Acting on his companion's advice Dacres feigned a bad headache on their arrival at the hotel and promptly went to bed. Until Henri felt fairly certain that none of the guests—who, fortunately, were few in number—understood French it was advisable for the pseudo-electrician to keep to himself.
All night long bugles were blaring and drums beating. The garrison of Naocuanha were evidently expecting an attack from the British forces in possession of Zandovar. Consequently Dacres spent a restless night, while the swarms of mosquitos that found their way in through the rents in the mosquito curtains of his bed added to his discomfort.