A Bid for Fortune Guy Boothby (animal farm read .txt) 📖

man, and even then you may consider that we’ve seen the last of him. So cheer up, take as much exercise as you possibly can, and believe me, you’ll soon forget all about him.”

But it was no use arguing with him. Nikola had had an effect upon the youth that was little short of marvellous, and it was not until we had well turned the Lenwin, and were safely in Australian waters, that he in any way recovered his former spirits.

And here, lest you should give me credit for a bravery I did not possess, I must own that I was more than a little afraid of another meeting with Nikola, myself. I had had four opportunities afforded me of judging of his cleverness⁠—once in the restaurant off Oxford Street, once in the Green Sailor public-house in the East India Dock Road, once in the West of England express, and lastly, in the house in Port Said. I had not the slightest desire, therefore, to come to close quarters with him again.

Arriving in Melbourne we caught the afternoon express for Sydney, reaching that city the following morning a little after breakfast. By the time we arrived at our destination we had held many consultations over our future, and the result was a decision to look for a quiet hotel on the outskirts of the city, and then to attempt to discover what the mystery, in which we had been so deeply involved, might mean. The merits of all the various suburbs were severally discussed, though I knew but little about them, and the Marquis less. Paramatta, Penrith, Woolahra, Balmain, and even many of the bays and harbours, received attention, until we decided on the last named as the most likely place to answer our purpose.

This settled, we crossed Darling harbour, and, after a little hunting about, discovered a small but comfortable hotel situated in a side street, called the “General Officer.” Here we booked rooms, deposited our meagre baggage, and having installed ourselves, sat down and discussed the situation.

“So this is Sydney,” said Beckenham, stretching himself out comfortably upon the sofa by the window as he spoke. “And now that we’ve got here, what’s to be done first?”

“Have lunch,” I answered promptly.

“And then?” he continued.

“Hunt up a public library and take a glimpse of the Morning Herald’s back numbers. They will tell us a good deal, though not all we want to know. Then we’ll make a few enquiries. Tomorrow morning I shall ask you to excuse me for a couple of hours. But in the afternoon we ought to have acquired sufficient information to enable us to make a definite start on what we’ve got to do.”

“Then let’s have lunch at once and be off. I’m all eagerness to get to work.”

We accordingly ordered lunch, and, when it was finished, set off in search of a public library. Having found it⁠—and it was not a very difficult matter⁠—we sought the reading room and made for a stand of Sydney Morning Heralds in the corner. Somehow I felt as certain of finding what I wanted there as any man could possibly be, and as it happened I was not disappointed. On the second page, beneath a heading in bold type, was a long report of a horse show, held the previous afternoon, at which it appeared a large viceregal and fashionable party were present. The list included His Excellency the Governor and the Countess of Amberley, the Ladies Maud and Ermyntrude, their daughters, the Marquis of Beckenham, Captain Barrenden, an aide-de-camp, and Mr. Baxter. In a voice that I hardly recognized as my own, so shaken was it with excitement, I called Beckenham to my side and pointed out to him his name. He stared, looked away, then stared again, hardly able to believe his eyes.

“What does it mean?” he whispered, just as he had done in Port Said. “What does it mean?”

I led him out of the building before I answered, and then clapped him on the shoulder.

“It means, my boy,” I said, “that there’s been a hitch in their arrangements, and that we’re not too late to circumvent them after all.”

“But where do you think they are staying⁠—these two scoundrels?”

“At Government House, to be sure. Didn’t you see that the report said, ‘The Earl and Countess of Amberley and a distinguished party from Government House, including the Marquis of Beckenham,’ etc.?”

“Then let us go to Government House at once and unmask them. That is our bounden duty to society.”

“Then all I can say is, if it is our duty to society, society will have to wait. No, no! We must find out first what their little game is. That once decided, the unmasking will fall in as a natural consequence. Don’t you understand?”

“I am afraid I don’t quite. However, I expect you’re right.”

By this time we were back again at the ferry. It was not time for the boat to start, so while we waited we amused ourselves staring at the placards pasted about on the wharf hoardings. Then a large theatrical poster caught my eye and drew me towards it. It announced a grand viceregal “command” night at one of the principal theatres for that very evening, and further set forth the fact that the most noble the Marquis of Beckenham would be amongst the distinguished company present.

“Here we are,” I called to my companion, who was at a little distance. “We’ll certainly go to this. The Marquis of Beckenham shall honour it with his patronage and presence after all.”

Noting the name and address of the theatre, we went back to our hotel for dinner, and as soon as it was eaten returned to the city to seek the theatre.

When we entered it the building was crowded, and the arrival of the Government House party was momentarily expected. Presently there was a hush, then the orchestra and audience rose while “God save the Queen” was played, and the Governor and a brilliant party entered the viceregal