“Then what does this journal mean by stating that a few days after we foregathered in this house the Rajah arrived at Plymouth from Brest, in France?”
“That must be a mistake, my lord. Would you let me read the item?”
Schwartzbrod extended his hand, trembling slightly, and took the slip of paper, adjusting his glasses to see the better, visibly gaining time before committing himself further.
“The item is very brief,” commented Stranleigh, “still, it is definite enough. ‘Steamer Rajah, Captain Wilkie, arrived at Plymouth from Brest.’”
“That cannot have been our Rajah,” said Schwartzbrod at last, having collected his wits. “The captain on your steamer, my lord, is named Simmons.”
“Simmons? Oh, Captain Simmons of Southampton? Why, I know the man. A fine, bluff old honest tar, one of the bulwarks of Britain. So Simmons was the captain of the Rajah, was he? Still, he may have resigned.”
“He couldn’t resign in midocean, my lord.”
“Oh, I’ve known the thing done. I’ve known captains transferred from one steamer to another on the high seas.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing, my lord, unless one vessel was disabled, and then abandoned when another came along.”
“My dear Mr. Schwartzbrod, accept my assurance that these daring devils of sea captains do things once they are out of our sight which we honest men ashore would not think of countenancing.”