“That she shall escape. She must leave the country immediately. If the secret that I conspired to set her free ever transpires, my career is doomed. Have you any suggestion to offer as to—as to the manner the flight shall be accomplished?”
“She must be placed on board an English ship,” I said. “In the hotel I noticed a placard announcing the calling of the steam pleasure-yacht Victoria, and that the vessel will depart for Gibraltar and London at two o’clock to-morrow morning. Would there be any chance of sailing in her?”
“Ah! I had forgotten! That vessel is now lying outside the harbour,” he cried suddenly, looking up into my face. “A friend of mine is returning to England in her. He told me yesterday that there were several vacant berths. Seek Stuart Bankhardt, the agent in the Rampe Chasseloup-Laubat, and secure two places. Then go on board and wait.”
“Nothing else?”
“No. The captain will be given an explanation, and your fiancée, in European dress, will be placed on board before you sail.”
Rising quickly, he went over to the telephone and rang the bell. In a few moments the answering bell tinkled, and into the transmitter he shouted—
“Send Jacques to my private room immediately.”
Turning again to me, he asked—
“Are you satisfied?”
“If you fulfil your promise.”