The Lost Ambassador by E. Phillips Oppenheim (robert munsch read aloud .txt) 📖
- Author: E. Phillips Oppenheim
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"How far north are you going?" I asked.
"To Newcastle, sir," the man answered.
He turned then to answer the whistle, and I re-entered my own car. We started first, but they passed us in a few minutes travelling at a great rate, and with a cloud of dust behind them. Delora threw an evil glance at me from his place. For once I had stolen a march upon him. They had both been too ignorant of their route to keep their final destination concealed from the chauffeur, and they certainly had not expected to meet any one on the way with whom he would be likely to talk! But why to Newcastle? I asked myself that question so often during the morning that my shooting became purely a mechanical thing. Newcastle,—the Tyne, coals, and shipbuilding! I could think of nothing else in connection with the place.
Late that evening I sat with a whiskey and soda and final cigar in the smoking-room. The evening papers had just arrived, brought by motor-bicycle from Norwich. I found nothing to interest me in them, but, glancing down the columns, my attention was attracted by some mention of Brazil. I looked to see what the paragraph might be. It concerned some new battleships, and was headed,—
LARGEST BATTLESHIPS IN THE WORLD!
It is not generally known, that there will be launched from the
works of Messrs. Halliday & Co. on the Tyne, within the next three
or four weeks, two of the most powerful battleships of the
"Dreadnought" type, which have yet been built.
There followed some specifications, in which I was not particularly interested, an account of their armament, and a final remark,—
One is tempted to ask how a country, in the financial position of
Brazil, can possibly reconcile it with her ideas of national
economy, to spend something like three millions in battleships,
which there does not seem to be the slightest chance of her ever
being called upon to use!
Somehow or other this paragraph fascinated me. I read it over and over again. I could see no connection between it and the visit of Delora to Newcastle, especially accompanied as he was by the Chinese ambassador. Yet the more I thought of it, the more I felt convinced that in some way the two were connected. I put down the paper at last, and called out of the room to a motoring friend.
"How far is it to Newcastle from here, Jacky?"
Jacky Dalton, a fair-haired young giant, one of the keenest sportsmen whom I had ever met, and whose mind and soul was now entirely dominated by the craze for motoring, told me with only a few moments' hesitation.
"Between two hundred and two hundred and twenty miles, Austen," he said, "and a magnificent road. With my new Napier, I reckon that I could get there in six hours, or less at night, with this moon."
I walked to the window. Across the park the outline of the trees and even the bracken stood out with extraordinary distinctness in the brilliant moonlight. There was not a breath of air, although every window in the house was open. We were having a few days of record heat.
"Jove, what a gorgeous run it would be to-night!" Dalton said, with a little sigh, looking out over my shoulder. "Empty roads, as light as day, and a breeze like midsummer! You don't want to go, do you, Austen?"
"Will you take me?" I asked.
"Like a shot!" he answered. "I only wish you were in earnest!"
"But I am," I declared. "If you don't mind missing the day's shooting to-morrow I'd love to run up there. It's impossible to sleep with this heat."
"It's a great idea," Dalton declared enthusiastically. "I'd love a day off from shooting."
I turned to a younger cousin of mine, who had just come in from the billiard-room.
"Dick," I said, "will you run things to-morrow if I go off motoring with Dalton?"
"Of course I will," he answered. "It's only home shooting, anyway. I'd rather like a day off because of the cricket match in the afternoon."
"Jacky, I'm your man!" I declared.
"We'll have Ferris in at once," he declared. "Bet you what you like he's ready to start in a quarter of an hour. I always have her kept ready tuned right up."
I rang the bell and sent for Jacky's chauffeur. He appeared after a few minutes' delay,—a short, hard-faced young man, who before Jacky had engaged him had driven a racing car.
"Ferris," his master said, "we want to start for Newcastle in half an hour."
"To-night, sir?" the man asked.
"Certainly," Dalton answered. "I shall drive some of the way myself. Everything is in order, I suppose?"
"Everything, sir," the man answered. "You can start in ten minutes if you wish."
"Any trouble about petrol?" I asked.
"We carry enough for the whole journey, sir," the man answered. "I'll have the car round at the front, sir, in a few minutes."
"Let's go up and change our clothes," Dalton said. "Remember we are going to travel, Austen, especially up the north road. You will want some thickish tweeds and an overcoat, although it seems so stifling here."
I nodded.
"Right, Jacky!" I answered. "I'll be down in a quarter of an hour, or twenty minutes at the most."
In less than half an hour we were off. It was only when the great car swung from the avenue into the country lane that Jacky, who was driving, turned toward me.
"By the bye," he asked, "what the devil are we going to Newcastle for?"
I laughed.
"We are going to look at those new battleships, Jacky," I answered.
He stared at me.
"Are you in earnest?"
"Partly," I answered. "Let's say we are going for the ride. It's worth it."
Dalton drew a long breath. We were rushing now through the silent night, with a delicious wind, strong and cool, blowing in our faces.
"By Jove, it is!" he assented.
CHAPTER XXXI AN INTERESTING DAYIt was a little after seven o'clock the next morning when we turned into the courtyard of the County Hotel in Newcastle. Immediately in front of us was the car in which we had seen Delora on the previous afternoon. The chauffeur was at work upon it, and although he looked up at our entrance, he paid no particular attention to us.
I blew through the whistle to Ferris.
"Back out of the yard at once," I said, "and go to another hotel."
Dalton looked at me in surprise.
"Forgive my ordering your chauffeur about," I said, as we glided backwards into the street. "That's the car we've come up after, and I don't want the people who travelled in it to know that we are on their heels."
Dalton whistled softly.
"So we are on a chase, are we?" he asked. "You might tell me about it, Austen."
"I can't," I answered. "It's altogether too indefinite. I shouldn't tell you anything which would sound like common sense except this,—that I am exceedingly curious, for several reasons, to know what those two men who came up in that car have to do in Newcastle."
"Who are they?" Dalton asked.
"One is a rich Brazilian named Delora, and the other the Chinese ambassador," I answered.
The names seemed to convey nothing to my companion, who merely nodded. We had now arrived at the other hotel, and the prospects of breakfast were already claiming our attention. We sat down in the coffee-room and attacked our bacon and eggs and coffee with zest.
"How long do you want to stay here?" Dalton asked.
"I am not quite sure," I answered. "Look here, Jacky," I continued, "supposing I wanted to stay all day and to go back to-night, so that we got home to breakfast to-morrow morning, would that be too long for you?"
"That would do me splendidly," Dalton declared. "I have never been in this part of the world, and I should like to look round. We must be back for to-morrow morning, you know, because all those fellows are coming to shoot from Horington's."
I nodded.
"We will make that the latest," I said.
Jacky left me, a few minutes later, to visit the local garage. Without any clear idea as to what was best to be done, I still felt that I was justified in making a few inquiries as to the cause of Delora's presence in Newcastle with that particular companion. I went to the telephone, therefore, and rang up the County Hotel. I asked to speak to the manager, who came at once to the instrument.
"I understand," I said, "that the Chinese ambassador has just arrived at your hotel. Would you be so kind as to ask him whether he would consent to be interviewed as to the reasons of his visit?"
I waited several minutes for a reply. When it came it was at least emphatic. The visit of the ambassador, the manager told me, was entirely a private one. He was simply on a motor tour with a friend, and they had called at Newcastle as it was an interesting city which the ambassador had never seen. He declined most firmly to have anything to do with any interviewer.
The reply being exactly what I had expected, I was not in the least disappointed.
"Perhaps," I said to the manager, "you can tell me how long he is staying."
"I have no idea, sir," the manager answered. "They have just ordered a carriage to make a call in the town."
I thanked him, and left the hotel at once on foot. When I arrived near the County Hotel a four-wheel cab was drawn up at the entrance. From a safe distance I stood watching it, and in a few minutes I saw the ambassador and Delora come swiftly out of the hotel and step inside. I waited till they had driven off, and then crossed the road to where the hall-porter was still standing on the pavement. I put five shillings into his hand.
"I am a reporter," I said. "Can you tell me where the ambassador has gone to?"
He smiled, and touched his hat.
"They are going to the offices of Messrs. Halliday & Co., the great shipbuilders, in Corporation Street," he answered.
I thanked him, and walked slowly away. I found plenty of material for thought, but it seemed to me that there was nothing more which I could do. Nevertheless, I walked along towards the address which the porter had given me, and found, as I had expected, that the cab was standing empty outside. Opposite was a small public-house. I went in, ordered a whiskey and soda, and lit a cigarette. Then I sat down facing the window. Half an hour passed, and then an hour. It was one o'clock before the two men reappeared. They were accompanied by a third person, whom I judged to be a member of the firm, and who entered the cab with them. On the pavement they were accosted by a young man in spectacles, who look off his hat and said a few words to the ambassador. The latter, however, shaking his head, stepped into the cab. The young man pushed forward once more, but the cab drove off. As soon as it had turned the corner I hurried out and addressed him.
"His Excellency does not care to be spoken to," I remarked.
The reporter—his profession was quite obvious—shook his head.
"I only wanted a word or two," he said, "but he would not have anything to say to me."
"I wonder if he is going to look over any of the ships that are building," I remarked.
"There is nothing much in the yards," the young man said,
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