The Czars Spy | Page 9

and yet there was evidently a lady and a gentleman on board. I
guessed there was a woman there, from the way the boudoir and ladies'
saloon were arranged, and certainly no man's hand decorated a dinner
table as that was decorated."
"Yes. That's decidedly funny," remarked the Consul thoughtfully.
"They went to Colle Salvetti, you say? They changed there, of course.
Expresses call there, one going north and the other south, within a
quarter of an hour after the train arrives from Leghorn. They showed a
lot of ingenuity, otherwise they'd have gone direct to Pisa."
"Ingenuity! I should think so! The whole affair was most cleverly
planned. Hornby would have deceived even you, my dear old chap. He
had the air of the perfect gentleman, and a glance over the yacht
convinced me that he was a wealthy man traveling for pleasure."
"You said something about an armory."
"Yes, there were Maxims stowed away in one of the cabins. They
aroused my suspicions."
"They would not have aroused mine," replied my friend. "Yachts carry
arms for protection in many cases, especially if they are going to cruise
along uncivilized coasts where they must land for water or provisions."
I told him of the torn photograph, which caused him some deep
reflection.
"I wonder why the picture had been torn up. Had there been a row on
board--a quarrel or something?"
"It had been destroyed surreptitiously, I think."

"Pity you didn't pocket the fragments. We could perhaps have
discovered from the photographer the identity of the original."
"Ah!" I sighed regretfully. "I never thought of that. I recollect the name
of the firm, however."
"I shall have to report to London the whole occurrence, as British
subjects are under suspicion," Hutcheson said. "We'll see whether
Scotland Yard knows anything about Hornby or Chater. Most probably
they do. Not long ago a description of men on board a yacht was
circulated from London as being a pair of well-known burglars who
were cruising about in a vessel crammed with booty which they dared
not get rid of. They are, however, not the same as our friends on the
Lola, for both men wanted were arrested in New Orleans about eight
months ago, without their yacht, for they confessed that they had
deliberately sunk it on one of the islands in the South Pacific."
"Then these fellows might be another pair of London burglars!" I
exclaimed eagerly, as the startling theory occurred to me.
"They might be. But, of course, we can't form any opinion until we
hear what Scotland Yard has to say. I'll write a full report in the
morning if you will give me minute descriptions of the men, as well as
of the captain, Mackintosh."
Next morning I handed over my charge of the Consulate to Frank, and
then assisted him to go through the papers in the safe which had been
examined by the thieves.
"The ruffians seem to have thoroughly overhauled everything,"
remarked the Consul in dismay when he saw the disordered state of his
papers. "They seem to have read every one deliberately."
"Which shows that had they been in search for the cipher-books they
would only have looked for them alone," I remarked decisively. "What
on earth could interest them in all these dry, unimportant shipping
reports and things?"

"Goodness only knows," replied my friend. Then, calling Cavendish, a
tall, fair young man, who had now recovered from his touch of fever
and had returned to the Consulate, he commenced to check the number
of those adhesive stamps, rather larger than ordinary postage-stamps,
used in the Consular service for the registration of fees received by the
Foreign Office. The values were from sixpence to one pound, and they
were kept in a portfolio.
After a long calculation the Consul suddenly raised his face to me and
said--
"Then six ten shilling ones have been taken!"
"Why? There must be some motive!"
"They are of no use to anyone except to Consuls," he explained.
"Perhaps they were wanted to affix to some false certificate. See," he
added, opening the portfolio, "there were six stamps here, and all are
gone."
"But they would have to be obliterated by the Consular stamp,"
remarked Cavendish.
"Ah! of course," exclaimed Hutcheson, taking out the brass seal from
the safe and examining it minutely. "By Jove!" he cried a second later,
"it's been used! They've stamped some document with it. Look!
They've used the wrong ink-pad! Can't you see that there's violet upon
it, while we always use the black pad!"
I took it in my hand, and there, sure enough, I saw traces of violet ink
upon it--the ink of the pad for the date-stamp upon the Consul's table.
"Then some document has been stamped and sealed!" I gasped.
"Yes.