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His confused mind strove now to revisualise the map which he had consulted in Souza's parlour. He discovered, naturally enough, that the task was altogether beyond his powers. Meanwhile night was descending. They were, however, upon the mule track, which went up and round the shoulder of a hill, and by this they came at dark upon a hamlet.
My brother will tell you exactly where he is." Trent hesitated. He would have preferred to have nothing at all to do with Da Souza, and the very thought of Oom Sam made him shudder. On the other hand, time was valuable to him and he might waste weeks looking for the man whom Oom Sam could tell him at once where to find. On the whole, it was better to accept Da Souza's offer.
Lord Liverpool's figures, let me add, were not among the interesting notes found upon him possibly because at that date they had not yet been obtained." "And you say that Samoval was aware of the man's real identity?" insisted Sir Terence, still incredulous. "Aware of it?" Colonel Grant laughed shortly. "Samoval is Souza's principal agent the most dangerous man in Lisbon and the most subtle.
It is not my custom in the morning. But here to drink your lady's health, and yours, Miss Armytage." With a graceful flourish of his glass he pledged them both and sipped delicately, then took the chair that O'Moy was proffering. "Good news, I hear, General. Antonio de Souza's removal from the Government is already bearing fruit.
But if by doing so he has restricted the man's power for evil, he has certainly increased his will for evil and his activities. "You tell me that Garfield was cared for by the parish priest at Penalva. There you are. Half the priesthood of the country are on Souza's side, since the Patriarch of Lisbon himself is little more than a tool of Souza's. What happens?
May I ask her name?" "Miss Ernestine Wendermott," Trent answered slowly. Francis threw away his cigarette and lit another. "Thank you," he said. Da Souza's office was neither furnished nor located with the idea of impressing casual visitors. It was in a back-street off an alley, and although within a stone's throw of Lothbury its immediate surroundings were not exhilarating.
Suddenly as he swung round by the companion-way he found himself confronted by a newcomer who came staggering out from the gangway. There was a moment's recoil and a sharp exclamation. Trent stood quite still and a heavy frown darkened his face. "Da Souza!" he exclaimed. "How on earth came you on board?" Da Souza's face was yellower than ever and he wore an ulster buttoned up to his chin.
Before the meal was over Julie had escaped from the table crying softly. Mr. Da Souza's face darkened as he looked up at the sound of her movement, only to see her skirt vanishing through the door. "Shall you have trouble with her, my dear?" he asked his wife anxiously. That estimable lady shook her head with a placid smile. "Julie is so sensitive," she muttered, "but she is not disobedient.
Trent thought of the night when he had crept back into the bush and had found no trace of Monty, and gradually there rose up before him a lurid possibility Da Souza's story was true. The very thought of it worked like madness in his brains. When he spoke he strove hard to steady his voice, and even to himself it sounded like the voice of one speaking a long way off.
Faces were flushed and voices grew a little thick. Da Souza's arm unchidden sought once more the back of his neighbour's chair, Miss Montressor's eyes did their utmost to win a tender glance from their lavish host. Suddenly Trent rose to his feet. He held a glass high over his head. His face was curiously unmoved, but his lips were parted in an enigmatic smile. "A toast, my friends!" he cried.
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