The British Mysteries Edition: 14 Novels & 70+ Short Stories. Sapper
a revolver to protect herself with.
"What are we going to do, Jim: what can we do?"
"Do," answered the other tensely, "do. Go after her, of course. And if there's no other way out—shoot her. But there's going to be another way out, Percy."
His voice rose to a savage shout. "We'll beat the brutes yet."
CHAPTER XI
JUDY DRAYCOTT bolted the door of her cabin in Don Miguel's yacht, and tried to think coherently. Her brain was whirling: the events of the last few hours seemed like some hideous nightmare. She had been asleep when Jim and Percy went ashore, and had only awakened two hours afterwards to find Bill Blackett mounting guard and looking worried.
"Where are the others?" she asked and he told her.
"Madness, miss," he remarked gloomily, "but there's no use arguing with Mr. Maitland. And what makes it worse is that the dago's yacht has arrived. She passed some way out, and she hasn't seen us yet, but if she comes to look for us there's no way of hiding. And then we're between the devil and the deep sea."
He scanned the side of the hill through his telescope, but nothing stirred.
The afternoon dragged slowly on, and at four-thirty she went below to make some tea. To while away the time the sailor had been telling her some of Jim's exploits, but she noticed that he never let five minutes elapse without searching the hill with his glass. And when she returned with the cups he was pacing up and down the deck looking anxiously at the sun.
"Another hour and a half, two hours at the most, and it'll be dark," he said. "Blast! here's the yacht."
She turned round: steaming slowly round the headland came the boat whose graceful lines she had last seen in Rio harbour.
"They've spotted us," said Bill, shutting up his telescope. "Now what are they going to do?"
They were not left long in doubt: having arrived opposite the opening in the rocks the yacht's engines stopped, and she remained there rolling lazily in the swell while a boat was lowered.
"Eight of 'em," muttered Bill. "That dwarf I've heard you talk about is one of them, and a great red-faced fellow who looks English."
The boat was being rowed towards them rapidly.
"Don't let them come on board, Bill," cried Judy.
"How can I stop 'em, Miss?" he said gravely. "I can't shoot the lot. Maybe they've only come to ask questions, and mean us no harm."
"Is Maitland there?" sung out the red-faced man whom Judy at once recognised as Barnet, as the boat came alongside.
"He is not," said Bill. "He's ashore. What are you wanting?"
"You'll see soon enough," grunted the other. "Up you get, Emil."
He helped the dwarf on board, and came up after him followed by four of the boat's crew.
"We don't want the whole Brazilian navy on deck," cried Bill angrily.
"It doesn't matter what you want. You'll damned well take what you get. Now then where's that map?"
"Mr. Maitland has got it on him."
Barnet stared at him suspiciously, and whispered something to the dwarf who shrugged his shoulders.
"When will he be back?"
"I know no more than you do," answered Bill. "He went ashore three or four hours ago."
And once again the two of them whispered together, evidently deciding to adopt a different line.
"My dear Miss Draycott," began the dwarf ingratiatingly, "I feel sure we shall be able to arrange matters amicably. I must say that I have the greatest admiration for the way you have scored off us up to date, but I feel certain that you will be the first to admit that matters cannot go on as they are any longer."
"I prefer to have no discussion at all with men who were responsible for my brother's murder," said Judy passionately.
"Come, come," said Dresler, "I can assure you that was an accident. No one regretted it more than Sir Montague Barnet and myself. Anyway it is over and done with: it belongs to the past, and we are concerned with the present. Now then, are we going to work together or not?"
"Nothing would induce me to have anything to do with you," cried the girl.
"But I fear you will have to," said the dwarf suavely. "I don't want to waste time pointing out obvious facts but we outnumber you by more than ten to one. And only my abhorrence of violence makes me discuss the matter at all. The position is this, Miss Draycott. Mr. Maitland has the map: we want the map. Moreover we intend to have the map. Now if you will give me your solemn promise that you will persuade Mr. Maitland to hand it over to us, then I, in my turn, will give you my promise that a fair share of the treasure, should we discover any, will be handed over to you."
"And if I won't promise," said Judy.
Once again the dwarf shrugged his shoulders.
"Need we go into such an eventuality," he said softly. "I will leave it to your imagination."
"Then I will give you my answer, Mr. Dresler. Rather than see that map in your hands, I shall ask Mr. Maitland to tear it up and throw it in the sea. Oh! you brutes!"
She gave a sudden cry, as the four men, obeying a quick gesture from Barnet, hurled themselves on Bill Blackett. For a few moments he fought like a demon, and one of his assailants went overboard with a broken jaw. But it could only end one way when Barnet, with a loaded stick in his hand joined in as well. There came a dull thud, and Bill crashed forward on the deck unconscious.
"There's no good wasting time, Emil," grunted the baronet. "That fellow Maitland may be back at any moment. Put him in the boat."
They lowered the motionless sailor into the boat alongside, and Barnet picked up his rifle.
"Now, Miss Draycott," he said curtly, "will you kindly follow your friend or have we got to lift you in too."
"What are you going to do with us?" said Judy.
"Exchange your quarters for more comfortable ones on board the yacht. Emil, I'm going ashore: I will return with Maitland."
And so having landed him she found herself being rowed to the yacht, with Bill still lying unconscious in the bottom of the boat. And though she tried not to notice it, a feeling of sick fear began to come over her as she saw the way the sailors looked at her. They were talking to one another in Brazilian and every now and then they laughed evilly, as if enjoying some secret joke. What a fool she had been to speak so precipitately: why hadn't she temporised till Jim got back? But when she stared at the hill, the only moving thing she could see was the figure of Barnet slowly climbing.
An officer received her as she mounted the gangway, and she hated him even more than the sailors.
"In ze regretted absence of Don Miguel," he leered in broken English, "it is to me much pleasure to receive you. Will you please to come: I show you ze saloon."
She watched Bill being hoisted on board; then sick at heart she followed the officer.
"It is pretty, is it not?" remarked her guide, and as she glanced indifferently round the room, he suddenly seized her in his arms and kissed her.
It was just what Judy wanted to rouse her from her despondency. With a smack like the shot of a pistol she got him with her open hand on the cheek, and he staggered back snarling. Then muttering something in Brazilian he came towards her again, only to find himself looking down the wrong end of a small business-like automatic.
"Another step, you little swine," said Judy, "and I'll kill you."
For a moment they stared at one another: then with an ugly laugh he turned away.
"You wait, you English