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Updated: May 15, 2025
"Well, Captain," the eager, nervous voice rang out again, "you've taken pity on us at last." "It's no good blaming me, Mr. Hammond," wheezed old Captain Johnson, staring at the liner. "You got Mrs. Hammond on board, ain't yer?" "Yes, yes!" said Hammond, and he kept by the harbour-master's side. "Mrs. Hammond's there. Hul-lo! We shan't be long now!"
He was still in bed when they came to anchor in the harbour; but the skipper and his second officer were able to go above and exchange congratulations from adjoining deck-chairs. "You are sure it wasn't cholera?" asked the harbour-master's deputy, who had boarded them in his launch, after he had heard the story. "Positive," said Carson.
Yonder lay the yacht with her fires banked, and was soon under weigh. She had started, when a harbour-master's motor-boat was observed giving chase, in her an officer from Scotland Yard who bore a bag, found by means of the key in Frankl's pocket in the Adair Street safe; on its clasp the name "Mahomet", and it contained L850,000: so that the yacht went wealthy on her way.
The young midshipman, who had been accompanied by Owen to the gangway, tumbled into his boat and pulled back to his ship, fully satisfied that he had done his duty. The harbour-master's boat having also paid the usual official visit and found all right, and the pilot having taken his departure, the Ouzel Galley stood out to sea under all sail.
He was still in bed when they came to anchor in the harbour; but the skipper and his second officer were able to go above and exchange congratulations from adjoining deck-chairs. "You are sure it wasn't cholera?" asked the harbour-master's deputy, who had boarded them in his launch, after he had heard the story. "Positive," said Carson.
We followed the poor madman, who grasped the harbour-master's arm, and on arriving at his cabin we stood at the door of it. He seemed heedless of our presence, but on his taking the pistol-case from the portmanteau, the two Customs men sprang forward. "That must be searched by us," one cried, and in a minute they had it.
Altogether, a trim, well-found yacht which might have voyaged round the world without mishap. The dinghy was sent off with the mate and a couple of seamen, and entered the harbour to enquire for Rivière at the harbour-master's office, according to arrangement. "Pleased to meet you, sir," said the mate. "Mrs Matheson's compliments, and will you come aboard?" "Is Mr Larssen on the yacht?" "No.
The old fish-market at Troy was just a sagged lean-to roof on the northern side of the Town Quay, resting against the dead wall of the harbour-master's house, and propped in front by four squat granite columns.
"Telephone to the police station if you have anything to report," he directed, "but should the man appear and attempt to enter, prevent him from doing so." He gave them further directions and then they parted. In half an hour the news had spread, search parties set out by land, and Brendon himself, with Inspector Damarell and two constables, put to sea in the harbour-master's swift steam launch.
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