"Why, what's this?" he said, stooping down and pulling from under the lowest step a bunch of papers.
"The stolen despatches!" cried Guy wildly. "But look! The seals have been broken."
Together they inspected the documents. Each envelope had been opened, but the contents appeared to be all right. The thief had plainly been satisfied with their perusal.
"Whoever stole them," said the captain, "was afraid to retain them lest a search should be made, and as he had no way to destroy them he tossed them down here where they could easily be found."
"Who else had a key to my cabin?" Guy asked sternly.
"The key to Torres' cabin will open yours," replied the captain, "and several of the crew also have keys."
"Then Torres is the man," said Guy. "The scoundrel looks capable of anything."
"I wouldn't advise you to accuse him," said the captain gravely. "He may cause trouble for you on shore. You must remember that British influence is little felt at Berbera. Your best plan is to say nothing, but relate the whole affair to the governor at Zaila. And now, as we may lie in the harbor here all day, you had better go on shore. You will see a strange sight."
Guy put the recovered documents away in an inner pocket, and followed the captain on deck, in a very angry frame of mind. Torres had disappeared, but Guy felt that he had not seen the last of him.
He half forgot his anger in the strange sight that now met his eyes, for the steamer was just approaching the wharf, and in a moment the gang-plank was dropped over the side.