“When his glasses fell off,” said CLuff. “They’re some disguise.”
“He’s Luther Pruyn, sure enough!” said Mr. Sherwen, emerging from the room. “Here’s the proof.” He held out an official-looking document. “An order from the Dutch Naval Office, made out in his name.”
“What does it say?” asked Carroll.
“I’m not much of a hand at Dutch, but it seems to direct the blockading warship to receive Dr. Luther Pruyn and wife and convey them to Curaçao.”
“And wife!” exclaimed Cluff loudly. He whistled as a vent to his amazement. “That explains all the talk about a woman—a lady in his quinta on the mountains?”
“Apparently,” said Carroll. “May I see that document, Mr. Sherwen?”
The American representative handed him the paper. As he was studying it, Galpy reentered, still scant of breath from excitement and haste. “He’s gone back to the mountains,” he announced. “Sent word for you to get to the port before dawn, if you have to walk. See Mr. Wisner there. He’ll arrange everything.”
“Will Mr. Perk—Dr. Pruyn be there?” asked Mr. Brewster.
“He didn’t say.”
“But he’s gone without his coat!”