Lieutenant Maitland put on a bath robe and interviewed the stranger. He was instantly taken by the man's face and manner. He saw, too that he was dealing with one of his own class.
"I have important despatches for Lord Rosecarrel the Foreign Secretary which I must get to him at once."
"Yes?" Maitland said interrogatively.
"I want you to take them and me," Anthony Trent said.
"I'm afraid that's impossible," said the officer. "You see that is a little out of my beat. Even if your papers were for the First Lord of the Admiralty I could not proceed to a home port without instructions. I am bound for Malta and weigh anchor in a little while."
Anthony Trent was silent for a moment. He knew that private matters concerning Lord Rosecarrel and his son had nothing to do with the government directly. He knew, too, that to commandeer a destroyer for a private errand was inadmissable. But he was determined to get back and had no appetite for Fiume. There was a trump card which he had yet to play.
"Why does a squadron of destroyers stay so long in Fiume?" he asked.
"Admiralty orders," Lieutenant Maitland said briefly.
"They are here because trouble may break out at any moment. The information I carry is necessary for the interests of your country and my own. I'm an American as I supposed you guessed. You will be thanked by the prime minister for taking me and my information back."
"Why not cable it?" Maitland suggested, "I'll wireless it for you in code."