The shot and her screams had now attracted members of the crew, the captain, and some of the passengers. It was Eric who had to take the captain aside and quickly explain what had happened. While he was doing this, the crew was making efforts to locate the man in the water and rescue him.
The captain was stunned. “You are saying monsieur le curé was a criminal?”
“He was no priest at all,” Eric explained. “Just a criminal in disguise.”
“But this is most unusual,” the captain protested. “I shall have to explain to our owners. Account for this man!”
Eric said disgustedly. “You will get no complaints from any religious order. This man was in the employ of an evil group.”
Betsy was at his side. “Kingston is hurt,” she said. And she led him to the actor.
Kingston was sitting up now with a dazed expression on his face. “Blighter hit me over the head with something!”
“Are you badly hurt?” Eric asked, helping him up.
“No,” Kingston said, rubbing his head gingerly. “Sorry I let you down, Betsy.”
“It was no fault of yours,” she said.
Eric told her, “You did a lovely job of protecting yourself by kicking him. Then I almost let him kill us both!”
“My fault! I screamed at you!” she reminded him.
“The Indian saved us!” Eric said. And then suddenly realizing, he asked, “Where is the Indian?”
“Back on the other side of the deck,” she said.
“Let’s find him,” Eric said, taking her arm. The three went back to the other side of the ship. The captain was busy directing the crew in their rescue efforts while the passengers still on deck watched with awe.
Seeing Eric, the captain spread his hands and said, “It is no use! We cannot locate him!”
“Too many sharks in these waters,” Eric said grimly. “You may as well give up.”
The captain nodded and then leaned over the side and shouted to the men in the longboat in Italian. They slowly headed the longboat back to the vessel. It was then that the Indian appeared and silently handed Eric back his gun.
Eric took the gun and stared at the tall Indian. “You saved my life! I’m sure I know you from somewhere.”
In a deep voice the Indian intoned, “Raj Singh. I was a member of the secret service at the time of your enlisting.”
“Of course!” Eric gasped. “I only met you a couple of times. That’s why I couldn’t remember clearly where I’d seen you.”
“You were extremely careless,” the Indian reprimanded him.
“I was,” Eric admitted forlornly. “This young lady and I owe you our lives.”
“You would do better to thank Mr. Black,” Raj Singh said.
“Black!” Betsy gasped. “Did he place you on board to watch over us?”
The Indian nodded.
Kingston said, “And we thought you might be after us!”
“My fault again!” Eric apologized. “I should have known you.”
“It was perhaps better that you did not,” the Indian said. “I regret I had to act violently. But it was too late to have any choice.”
Eric said, “You may be sure the captain will lay no charges against you. That fellow had a gun pointed ready to kill me and then this lady.”
“If you will excuse me,” the Indian bowed. And he walked away from them.
Betsy watched after his retreating figure. “It seems that Felix Black had some doubts about our safety on board.”
“He was right,” Kingston said.
“And I surely needed some protection,” Eric said. He turned to her. “We’d both have been dead if Raj Singh hadn’t appeared. And no doubt he’d have gotten back to Kingston and finished him after that. Our curé was going to be a busy priest, finishing off three of us in one night.”
Betsy shuddered. “I wonder what he thought as he went over the side.”
“No time to be morbid,” Eric told her. “Let’s go back to our cabins and try and get some rest.”
Of course it was a vain struggle. She wasn’t able to sleep. The unbelievable events of the night kept repeating themselves to her. And soon it was dawn, and the others were getting up. She rose and washed and dressed.
The dining salon was buzzing with gossip of what had taken place the night before and anticipation at reaching the port of Gibraltar within the hour. The excited matrons repeated many different versions of what had happened, most of them far wrong. It was known that Eric and Betsy had been mixed up in the melee, for they were greeted with curious stares.
Samuel Jessup was in his usual place at the table beside her. The old man popped a pill in his mouth and said, “Too bad I took my sleeping tablets last night, or I might have enjoyed the excitement.”
“I’d say you were better out of it,” she told him.
“From what I’ve heard, that priest was no priest at all,” he said.
“No. He was an impostor,” she said.
Jessup nodded. “I tried to talk to him about medicine used in the monasteries, and he turned his back on me. No wonder; he couldn’t have known anything about it.”
She finished breakfast and went out on deck in time to enjoy the
Maria’s
graceful entrance into the sheltered harbor of the fortress town with its great towering cliffs.
The
Maria
was scheduled to remain in harbor overnight, unloading and loading. The harbor was a forest of masts, with the flags of many nations hanging from them. Gibraltar was a free port and attracted shipping from all over the world. The calm blue water of the harbor and its protected location made it a regular stop for many ships.
It had been agreed among them that they would remain on board the ship. There was little to see in Gibraltar, and it might expose them to additional danger if they disembarked. The three stood in conference by the railing as the first of the passengers to leave moved along the gangway from the ship to the docks.
Betsy said, “I see Mrs. Gaylin and Patricia leaving.”
Eric smiled. “They haven’t even spoken to me since last night. They’re convinced I’m some kind of criminal.”
“Better for you,” Kingston said, grinning broadly.
“Yes. At least I’m no longer regarded as suitable husband material.”
“We’re all lucky to be alive this morning,” Betsy said with a sigh.
“Indeed, that is true,” Kingston agreed.
“What I’d like to know is whether he intended leaving the ship here? Or if he had any confederates coming on board to meet him.”
She gave a tiny shudder. “That thought doesn’t appeal to me.”
“We must try to consider everything,” was Eric’s warning.
The discussion continued, and then Raj Singh came to join them. He strode up to them in his solemn, deliberate way. He said, “You are remaining on the ship?”
Eric nodded. “Yes. We thought it might be wise.”
“I’m sure Mr. Black would agree,” the Indian said.
Betsy spoke up. “We were wondering about the curé. Was he booked to leave the ship here or at Marseilles?”
“Marseilles,” the Indian said. “I have already had that information from the ship’s purser.”
“So it is unlikely that he has confederates here,” Eric said.
Raj Singh studied him with a certain arrogance. “I am surprised that you still do not understand that Valmy has his spies everywhere.”
“It’s time I should realize it,” Eric said unhappily. “I should never underestimate him.”
“It does not matter,” the Indian said impassively. “I shall be leaving the ship here. My work is done. You will need me no more.”
Eric said, “We shan’t feel safe after what happened.”
“I see no need for your concern,” the Indian said in his deep voice.
Betsy assured him, “We shall feel lost without you. And at first we didn’t understand. We’d decided you were against us.”
The Indian revealed one of his rare smiles. “I hope I may have proven myself.”
Betsy said, “You are a brave man and a strong one.”
“Thank you,” Raj Singh bowed. “If you have any mail you wish to send back to England, I shall be happy to look after it for you.”
“I have some reports for Black,” Eric said. “To which I must add what happened last night.”
“I can wait until until you have finished the report,” the Indian said.
“Why are you leaving us at Gibraltar?” Betsy asked.
“Mr. Black’s orders are to leave the ship here,” the Indian said.
Eric asked, “Are you working solely for Felix Black now?”
Raj Singh nodded. “I belong to Mr. Black’s private police force.”
“And a good thing you do,” Eric praised him. “And now I’d better go and get that report in order for you to take.”
The
Maria
sailed from Gibraltar the following morning at dawn. The number of passengers was greatly reduced, and the relatively short sail to Marseilles now took on the appearance of being an uneventful one.
The night before they docked in Marseilles, Kingston arranged another short concert. It was devoted mostly to his readings from Shakespeare. And he induced Betsy to join him in a scene from
The Taming of the Shrew.
She enjoyed memorizing a few lines of the wanton Kate’s role so that Kingston could offer a stirring performance of Petruchio. Eric applauded them from the audience
After the concert ended, Kingston remained in the dining salon to receive the plaudits of the passengers. He enjoyed being the hero of the occasion and also welcomed the food which was served. She and Eric preferred to go out on deck for a stroll.
As they walked arm in arm along the deserted deck, she said, “What a gorgeous night!”
“I know,” he said. “Such a magnificent show of stars overhead.”
She gave him a grim smile. “Not much like the other night — with death threatening us at every turn.”
“I could sense that danger developing,” the young man at her side told her. “But I entirely missed where it was going to come from.”
“At least that is over,” she said with a sigh of relief.
“Until we reach Marseilles,” he reminded her. “Tomorrow the real task will begin.”
“I know. It frightens me.”
Eric gave her a thin smile. “At least that’s a small improvement. You’re beginning to realize this is not all a pleasant game.”
“The other night brought me of age.”
They halted by the rail, and he gazed at her with loving eyes. “And you have also reached the age of wisdom regarding us.”
“I hope so,” she said quietly.
“When this chase is at an end, there should be no barrier between us,” he said, holding her hands in his.
“My hatred is gone,” she told him. “It was wrong of me to let my grief be twisted into a senseless rage at someone else.”
“You were misinformed,” he said. “Now you know the truth.”
She looked up at him. “Now I realize how lucky I have been.”
“Lucky?”
“Yes,” she said. “You might have been killed along with Richard, rather than merely being wounded. And I might never have come to know you.”
“Betsy!” he said with emotion as they embraced.
They remained on deck for a while longer. Then George Frederick Kingston came toward them, a trifle drunk and extremely happy. He demanded, “Young man, what are you doing with my Kate?”
Eric laughed. “Presuming to make love to her!”
“A fine kettle of fish!” Kingston complained with comic overtones. “After I have just made my reputation by my romancing her on stage! You undo me, sir!”
“You forget,” Eric said. “Your role in our little drama is that of my father. We must be more careful to stay in character.”
“Quashed!” Kingston lamented. “Completely ruined by a younger man with more appeal. Ah, well, that is the way of the world. What must be, must be!” And laughing, he placed his arms around their shoulders, and they all headed to their cabins.
The next morning the
Maria
entered the huge harbor of Marseilles. Long stretches of wharves and cargo docks extended out into the water to take care of the hundreds of vessels of all kinds anchored there. Betsy, standing with the other two in the bow of the ship, was awed by the busy scene. She had never known a harbor so large and bustling.
Eric smiled at her and said, “This has become the second most important city in France. And the greatest port.”
Betsy said, “It must have grown greatly since the revolution.”
“It has,” the young man said. “And it is a city where Napoleon once lived. And where he is still a hero.”
“He told me of his early days here,” she agreed with a smile. “He brought his family here when he was only a mere army captain.”
George Frederick Kingston was studying the city beyond the harbor with its white buildings, green hills, and blue cliffs. The veteran actor said, “That looks like a church on that high cliff!”
“It is,” Eric told him. “The church of Notre Dame de la Garde. And not far from it there are the dungeons of the Chateau d’If, where so many were imprisoned and died without ever seeing the sun again.”
“Grim business, the revolution!” the actor commented.
“Marseilles has a mixture of every race on earth,” Eric said. “And the best bouillabaisse, fish soup, in the world. But do not be deceived, behind its easygoing surface it is a city of massive criminal activity.”
Betsy asked him, “Has Mr. Black given us specific instructions about what we’re to do?”
“Yes,” Eric said. “When we reach the hotel, we will have a briefing session.”
Now there came the frantic bustle of disembarking from the vessel which Betsy had come to enjoy. The passengers scattered in various directions, and Eric found them an open carriage which took them up from the docks through colorful winding streets to an inn picturesquely situated on a hill overlooking the harbor.
An elderly man with a gray walrus moustache greeted them. Arrangements had been made in advance, and he now showed them to their rooms. Once again Betsy had a room adjoining that of the two men. Her windows looked out on a garden at the rear rather than having a harbor view. But the room was clean and neat. Only after they had eaten in the good-sized dining hall of the inn did they gather in Eric’s room for the promised briefing.
Holding a paper, he addressed Betsy and Kingston who sat in chairs before him. He said, “It is Felix Black’s wish that Betsy and you should call on Mademoiselle LaFlenche. She still lives in the family villa, quite alone with servants. She rarely sees anyone, but you must somehow reach her. He suggests that you pass yourself off as father and daughter. And that you, Kingston, are a retired merchant who did business with LaFlenche — buying shipments of dates and oranges from him for the London trade.”