Chapter XX: A Hazardous Proposal

"YES, we've had a narrow squeak," continued the Captain. "It's easy to reconstruct the case. Durango was either concealed in the woods or else hiding on board. More than likely he was stowed away somewhere on the airship, otherwise Callaghan and the other men ought to have spotted him."

"But they didn't see him leave," objected Dacres.

"Quite true. Conversely they didn't see him come on board; but that is a side issue. One thing is certain; he was aware of our presence. He must have been stalking us. Directly we left the cabin he crept in, knowing that there was a revolver and ammunition in his pocket. With these in his possession it would have been an easy matter for him to shoot the pair of us, as we were quite in ignorance of his being here; but fortunately, as far as we are concerned, I smashed the revolver and threw the pieces over the side."

"With this possibility in your mind?"

Whittinghame shook his head.

"Don't credit me with too much, my friend. I saw the look on your face when I deliberately destroyed a particularly neat little weapon. Had it been of the same calibre as ours I would have kept it. As it wasn't, I put it out of the way of others who might make use of it against our interests. Anyhow, Durango was foiled on that count. He then remembers that he had documents of importance in those coat-pockets, so he hurriedly turns them inside out. In the midst of the search he hears you coming along the alley-way, and being without a weapon and afraid to tackle you on equal terms, makes a hurried retreat. The door slams, and your suspicions are aroused."

"Perhaps he's still on board?" suggested Dacres.

"You heard him on deck."

"But there are other hatchways he could make use of besides going over the side."

"There are; we'll investigate. I'll tell Callaghan to send up half a dozen armed men, and then we'll search every nook and cranny."

The reinforcements were quick in responding to the call. First of all the woods in the immediate vicinity of the after-part of the "Libertad" were searched; men were posted to prevent anyone leaving the wreck without being seen, while the rest joined the two officers in exploring the still intact practical portion of the airship.

For an hour the search was kept up, but without result. Satisfied at length that none of the original crew remained on board, Whittinghame gave orders for the whole of the documents to be removed.

This done the fore-part was examined. Under the wreckage were found the bodies of eight men, all terribly mangled, but sufficiently recognizable for the searchers to decide that Reno Durango was not amongst them.

The cunning rogue, instead of fighting his ship from the navigation room for'ard, had delegated that duty to a subordinate, and had taken up his position in the after-part which, when the disaster occurred, had escaped the destruction meted out to the rest of the ill-fated "Libertad."

Upon returning to the crippled "Meteor" Whittinghame, assisted by Dr. Hambrough and Dacres, proceeded to examine the documents found in Durango's cabin. From the contents of the letters it was soon made evident that the rascal had already entered into negotiations with several of the Great Powers for the disposal of the plans of the British submarines.

The original specifications and constructional drawings of the airship--those that had been appropriated by the Valderian authorities when Gerald Whittinghame had been arrested--were found intact.

"That's good," ejaculated Whittinghame. "It was more than I dared hope. I expected to find tracings of the original plans, but these rascals have evidently thought it unnecessary to make duplicates. If they haven't--and judging by the state of these drawings I don't think they have--they will never be able to make another imitation of the 'Meteor.'"

"What do you propose to do with the wreck?" asked the doctor.

"We'll wait until the repairs to the 'Meteor' are complete and then, I think, we'll set fire to the trees around the 'Libertad.' I would do so earlier, but we must try, if possible, to prevent the alarm reaching Naocuanha."

"But surely Durango will make a dash for the capital?"

"I think not. The Valderians do not look favourably upon those leaders who have come to grief. He will, for a dead certainty, leave Zaypuru in the lurch, and try his luck elsewhere--unless we prevent him."

"And the submarine plans?" asked Dacres.

"I have not forgotten that point," replied Whittinghame; "since they are not here nor in the wreck of the 'Libertad' it can be reasonably surmised that Durango has them in his possession--unless he left them with a trustworthy agent in Pernambuco. From the documents we found on board we know that he had not got past the preliminary negotiations. My immediate plans are as follows, gentlemen; if you have any suggestions or objections to make I shall be pleased to hear them:--

"In the first place we must make the 'Meteor' fit to resume her flight. Then, on the principle of striking while the iron's hot, we must attempt the rescue of the British prisoners at Naocuanha. Whether we succeed or not we can then devote our attention to the capture of Señor Reno Durango. Under the most favourable conditions it will take him six weeks to reach the nearest railway station. He has to recross the Sierras and make a long journey across the Voyocama Desert. By that time we shall have either succeeded or failed in our enterprise in Valderia. By making inquiries of any of the few Indians who exist in the Voyocama Desert we shall be able to get upon Durango's trail and run him to earth."

"Perfectly straightforward, sir," observed Setchell.

"Unless anything should go wrong," added Whittinghame guardedly. "Now, having settled these points, suppose we make an examination of our own craft?"

It did not require much inspection from the Captain to decide that No. 4 section was useless for further service. It had borne the brunt of the "Libertad's" fire. Only one ballonette retained its supply of ultra-hydrogen. The others, pierced through and through, resembled gigantic colanders, being completely riddled by the small calibre shell. Since the "Libertad's" magazine was situated in the corresponding section her crew had come to the conclusion that the same state of affairs existed in the "Meteor," and had hoped by directing most of their fire upon No. 4 section to destroy utterly their antagonist by exploding her ammunition-room.

In the other sections the damage was comparatively slight. Wherever a ballonette was pierced the high velocity of the projectiles had made a clean circular hole. All that was required to be done--for the ultra-hydrogen had already been exhausted from the intact ballonettes and stored in the high-pressure cylinders--was to patch the silken inner envelopes, rivet aluminium plates on the outer plating and test each gas compartment by forcing air into it. Should an escape still exist the hissing of the compressed air would be a sure indication of the precise position of the leak.

Officers and men worked with desperate haste, yet without sacrificing efficiency. In order to guard against a surprise attack sentries were posted at some distance from the stranded "Meteor," while several of her quick-firing guns were unshipped and remounted in positions commanding the approach from the Valderian capital.

Nevertheless, had Durango and his surviving comrades been men of pluck and determination, they might have entirely prevented the work of repairing the "Meteor." Under cover of darkness it would have been a comparatively easy matter to fire the dry grass, and the destruction of the British airship would have been a foregone conclusion. But the Mexican was a man to run no great risk. As soon as he had secured certain property from his wrecked cabin he had resolutely set out towards the Brazilian frontier.

Being a born gambler he realized that as far as Naocuanha and Valderia were concerned his luck was out. He still had the means of recouping his losses, but he was too wily to tempt fate in the country that had already proved so disastrous to his projects. Whittinghame was perfectly correct in his surmise. The Mexican was already on his way to pastures which, if not new, could provide abundant sustenance for his cupidity and cunning.

The day passed without any signs of Valderian activity. The news of the disaster had not reached Naocuanha, and as the mountain pass was an unfrequented one there was little risk of detection from passing travellers.

At daybreak on the following morning work was renewed. The condemned section, stripped of everything of value that had escaped the hail of hostile shot, had been removed from the adjoining divisions. Most of the leaks had been stopped, and Whittinghame had good reasons for hoping that the air test could be applied that afternoon.

Just before noon one of the outposts signalled that three armed men were approaching, but whether they were alone or merely the advance guard of a force of Valderian troops he could not determine.

Whittinghame, Dacres and Setchell were quickly on the spot, where, sheltered behind a ridge of rocks, they could command the approach of the three strangers.

Bringing their glasses to bear the officers saw that the party consisted of an elderly man and two who might be anything between eighteen and twenty-five, even when taking into account the effect of the climate. Each had a rifle slung across his back and a short native knife, somewhat resembling the Mexican machete, in a sheath on the right hip.

They had naturally seen the several separated portions of the "Meteor" as well as the after-part of the wreck of the "Libertad," and had left the beaten track with the evident intention of making a closer inspection.

"Not much strategy shown there," observed Dacres. "They make no attempt to conceal themselves. Who and what are they, I wonder?"

"We'll soon find out," replied Whittinghame, and beckoning to six of the crew he ordered them to make a detour in order to cut off the strangers' retreat.

Nearer and nearer came the three men, chatting unrestrainedly and gesticulating excitedly. Whittinghame, who spoke Spanish with tolerable fluency, strained his ears to catch the drift of their conversation.

"Frenchmen, by Jove!" ejaculated Dacres.

"I think not," whispered his chief. "Now!"

Simultaneously the officers and several of the "Meteor's" crew sprang to their feet, while at the signal those in ambush stepped into the path which the strangers had traversed.

In spite of the odds against them the three men were not wanting in courage, although deficient in strategy.

They stopped, unslung their rifles, and having given their opponents ample opportunity to shoot them down had the Englishmen felt so inclined, they flopped down on the rocky path and took what cover they could behind the small boulders.

"_Amigos!_" shouted Whittinghame.

"_Si, señor_," replied the elder man, and without any hesitation he jumped up, spoke a few words to his companions, and then strode towards the spot where Whittinghame stood.

"_Americanos?_" he asked interrogatively.

Whittinghame shook his head.

"_Inglese,_" he replied.

"_Bien,_" rejoined the stranger, removing his hat and making a profound bow. "I am ver' pleased to speak with you, monsieur."

"You are a Frenchman, then?"

"Assuredly. I am called Antoine de la Fosse, I am an engineer of electricity. Gaston, Henri!" he shouted in his native tongue; "come here and make the acquaintance of these English airmen."

De la Fosse required but little "pumping." He seemed bursting with anxiety to explain his presence to Whittinghame and the rest of the officers.

He lived at Adiovonta, a small town about thirty miles from Naocuanha and nearly forty from the scene of the combat between the rival airships. He was on his way to San Carlos, where he had to inspect the electric-lighting apparatus of a newly opened copper-mine. Accompanied by his two sons and twenty Indian porters he was within ten miles of the mountain pass when he heard the dull detonations of the "Libertad's" guns. At first he did not know what to make of it, for he was in ignorance of the fact that hostilities had broken out between Great Britain and Valderia.

During his journey upon the succeeding day he made good use of a pair of binoculars, and at length spotted what appeared to be the wreckage of half a dozen airships. Leaving his men on the beaten track he set out with his two sons to investigate the scene of the disaster.

"So there is war between Great Britain and Valderia, eh? And the port of Zandovar is taken? Then I think I will not go to Naocuanha just _à l'instant._"

"Were you bound for the capital, then?" asked Dacres.

"As soon as I finish the work at San Carlos. I have to see the installation of the electric light at several of the buildings public--the Cathedral and the Cavarale, for example, but I think it will wait."

Whittinghame was too good a diplomat to come straight to the point and ask for direct information concerning the Cavarale--the prison where his brother and the British officers were confined. But the chance was too good to be thrown aside. He would put the question indirectly at a more opportune moment.

"Come and have lunch with us," he said courteously. "We cannot, unfortunately, offer you of the wines of _la belle France_, but our stores are by no means exhausted. After we have lunched we will show you the airships, or rather ours and the remains of the Valderian one."

"The Valderian one?" replied de la Fosse incredulously. "I did not know that Valderia possessed an airship. _Mais,_ perhaps it is well not to show too much interest in a country that is not ones own."

During the meal Whittinghame, who attended to his guests' wants with the utmost politeness, related the salient facts of the dispute between the two countries and the events leading up to the chase of Señor Reno Durango.

"_Nom de Chien!_" ejaculated de la Fosse excitedly, bringing his hand down violently upon the edge of his plate, and sending the contents into his lap. "Reno Durango! Is it possible?"

"A friend of yours, monsieur?" asked Whittinghame.

"He is no friend to me," retorted the indignant Frenchman. "I remember well his master, the pirate Karl von Harburg, who captured 'La Touraine' and stole fifty thousand francs from me. Again, Señor Durango--_que le diable l'importe_--did his best to kill me at Zandovar a little more than a year ago. _Peste!_ I have no love for Señor Durango. _Voyons_, let me rejoice over the debris of his airship."

Accordingly Whittinghame, Dacres, and the doctor accompanied the Frenchman and his two sons to the scene of the disaster. De la Fosse, with a Frenchman's typical sagacity, took the greatest interest in all he saw, and asked innumerable questions, while his two sons joined vivaciously in the conversation.

Suddenly a sharp report, unlike that of a rifle, came from the direction of the "Meteor." The three officers exchanged glances.

"Something gone this time!" exclaimed Whittinghame.

Something had gone. One of the ballonettes in No. 3 section had burst under the pressure of the compressed air introduced for the purpose of testing its non-porosity. The explosion resulted in the partial wreckage of the wireless room. Until the damage could be made good the "Meteor" was practically cut off from intercourse with the outside world. Before the days of wireless, isolation counted for little, but once having enlisted the aid of the Italian wizard, Marconi, the exigencies of civilization could ill bear being deprived of this means of communication.

"Anyone hurt?" asked Whittinghame anxiously, as he and his companions arrived on the scene of the accident.

"No one, sir," replied Callaghan saluting.

"That's a blessing," said the Captain fervently. "One man down is one too many; we don't want any more casualties to our small crew. Now let us see the extent of the damage to the wireless room."

"_Ciel!_ It is of little consequence to one who knows," replied de la Fosse, after a brief yet comprehensive examination. "I know not how you call this----"

"The magnetic detector, sir," volunteered Callaghan.

"Ah! the magnetic detector: it is out of--how you call it?--tune, _ne c'est pas?_ The air-gap around the edge of this plate is destroyed. In two days the damage is made good."

"To anyone who understands the business," added Whittinghame.

"_Oui, monsieur._ Very well, then: I do you good turn. I will stop. Gaston will take my men to San José. Then in a few days I follow."

"It's awfully good of you, monsieur," said the Captain gratefully.

"_Pouf!_" ejaculated the Frenchman, throwing out his hands in a deprecatory gesture. "It is nothing. I will help you set it right."

This latest accident, coming on top of the previous misfortunes to the "Meteor," meant that the airship would not be ready to resume her flight for at least a week; and during a week history might be made in Valderia without Whittinghame and his companions being aware of what was going on.

Dacres got on excellent terms with Antoine de la Fosse and his son Henri, and before the end of the week he felt emboldened to tackle the Frenchmen on the subject of the Cavarale Prison.

"You seem very anxious to know all about the prison, _mon ami,_" remarked the elder de la Fosse. "One would think that you would like to pay it a visit."

"That I should," replied Dacres. "Not as a prisoner, monsieur, but just to find my way about. You remember Mr. Whittinghame told you we were making an attempt to rescue some English prisoners there."

"And I showed you the plan of the Cavarale," said de la Fosse. "A plan like that to a man with ordinary intelligence is worth a hundred thousand books of direction."

"Quite true," assented Dacres. "But I have a strong desire to see what the prison is like. To put the matter bluntly, could you get me a pass to enter the Cavarale?"

The Frenchman did not reply for a few moments. "See you here," he exclaimed. "I would help you, for I like not the President Zaypuru. But it is too difficult. If they catch you, then you are shot as a spy, and I am arrested for assisting an Englishman to spy. You understand?"

"I quite see your point, monsieur," said Dacres. "You would be betraying the country which you have made your temporary home."

"You do not see the point, Monsieur Dacres," corrected the Frenchman. "It is not a question of betray: it is revenge. I have no cause to like the present government, for when Zaypuru made the insurrection his soldiers looted my house. I was then living close to Naocuanha. It is a long story and I will not now tell it you. But if I could I would help you."

He paused and puffed vigorously at his cigar. Dacres watched his face eagerly. De la Fosse was pondering the question over in his mind. Dacres let him think undisturbed. He realized that he had stirred the Frenchman's passions. He was brooding under a heavy grievance. De la Fosse, like many other Europeans, had good cause to hate President Zaypuru and all his works.

"I have a plan," exclaimed de la Fosse suddenly. "I tell you. Suppose I send Henri to inspect the Cavarale? It must be examined before I can start work with the electric light installation."

"Well?"

"Then Henri must have an assistant, _bien entendu?_ Suppose you go as assistant to my son? I give your name on the pass as Monsieur----"

"As Monsieur le Plaisant," added Dacres, a thought flashing across his mind.

"You, then, know a Monsieur le Plaisant?" asked the Frenchman.

"Yes, I believe I do," replied Dacres grimly, with a lively recollection of his prank on the midshipmen on H.M.S "Repulse."

"_Bien!_ Then I will inform Henri. Only, monsieur, if you are detected you will be shot."

"That I quite understand," replied Dacres coolly.

"If you are detected," continued de la Fosse, "I know that you are an English gentleman and will absolve Henri from blame."

"Of course," agreed Dacres. "I promise on my honour that if anything goes wrong--I don't think it will, by the by--I will make out that I deliberately deceived your son. He, of course, must be told to repudiate me, should the Valderians spot me."

"You are a good impersonator, Monsieur Dacres?"

"Fairly," replied Dacres modestly. "I bluffed a flagship's officers once, only----"

He pulled himself up. It was not desirable, on the eve of a similar episode, to proclaim the failure of the former attempt.

"Very well," agreed de la Fosse. "I will put the name of Monsieur le Plaisant on the pass, and Henri will show you the road to Naocuanha."