A Bid for Fortune by Guy Boothby (top 5 ebook reader .txt) 📕

In the daylight the brute looked even larger and certainly fiercer than before. I felt I should have liked nothing better than to have taken it by the tail and hurled it out of the window. Nikola, on the other hand, seemed to entertain for it the most extraordinary affection.

Now such was this marvellous man’s power of fascination that by the time we reached Andover Junction his conversation had roused me quite out of myself, had made me forget my previous distrust of him, and enabled me to tell myself that this railway journey was one of the most enjoyable I had ever undertaken.

In Salisbury we took luncheon baskets on board, with two bottles of champagne, for which my companion, in spite of my vigorous protest, would insist upon paying.

As the train rolled along the charming valley, in which lie the miniature towns of Wilton, Dinton, and Tisbury, we pledged each other in right good fellowship, and by the time Exeter was reached were friendly enough to have journeyed round the world together. Exeter behind us, I began to feel drowsy, and before the engine came to a standstill at Okehampton was fast asleep.

I remember no more of that ill-fated journey; nor, indeed have I any recollection of anything at all, until I woke up in Room No. 37 of the Ship and Vulture Hotel in Plymouth.

The sunshine was streaming in through the slats of the Venetian blinds, and a portly gentleman, with a rosy face, and grey hair, was standing by my bedside, holding my wrist in his hand, and calmly scrutinising me. A nurse in hospital dress stood beside him.

“I think he’ll do now,” he said to her as he rubbed his plump hands together; “but I’ll look round in the course of the afternoon.”

“One moment,” I said feebly, for I found I was too weak to speak above a whisper. “Would you mind telling me where I am, and what is the matter with me?”

“I should very much like to be able to do so,” was the doctor’s reply. “My opinion is, if you want me to be candid, that you have been drugged and well-nigh poisoned, by a remarkably clever chemist. But what the drug and the poison were, and who administered it to you, and the motive for doing so, is more than I can tell you. From what I can learn from the hotel proprietors you were brought here from the railway station in a cab last night by a gentleman who happened to find you in the carriage in which you travelled down from London. You were in such a curious condition that I was sent for and this nurse procured. Now you know all about it.”

“What day did you say this is?”

“Saturday, to be sure.”

“Saturday!” I cried. “You don’t mean that! Then, by Jove, I’ve missed the Saratoga after all. Here, let me get up! And tell them downstairs to send for the Inspector of Police. I have got to get to the bottom of this.”

I sat up in bed, but was only too glad to lie down again, for my weakness was extraordinary. I looked at the doctor.

“How long before you can have me fit to travel?”

“Give yourself three days’ rest and quiet,” he replied, “and we’ll see what we can do.”

“Three days? And two days and a half to cross the continent, that’s five and a half⁠—say six days. Good! I’ll catch the boat in Naples, and then, Dr. Nikola, if you’re aboard, as I suspect, I should advise you to look out.”

VII Port Said, and What Befell Us There

Fortunately for me my arrangements fitted in exactly, so that at one thirty p.m., on the seventh day after my fatal meeting with Dr. Nikola in the West of England express, I had crossed the continent, and stood looking out on the blue waters of Naples Bay. To my right was the hill of San Martino, behind me that of Capo di Monte, while in the distance, to the southward, rose the cloud-tipped summit of Vesuvius. The journey from London is generally considered, I believe, a long and wearisome one; it certainly proved so to me, for it must be remembered that my mind was impatient of every delay, while my bodily health was not as yet recovered from the severe strain that had been put upon it.

The first thing to be done on arrival at the terminus was to discover a quiet hotel; a place where I could rest and recoup during the heat of the day, and, what was perhaps more important, where I should run no risk of meeting with Dr. Nikola or his satellites. I had originally intended calling at the office of the steamship company in order to explain the reason of my not joining the boat in Plymouth, planning afterwards to cast about me, among the various hotels, for the Marquis of Beckenham and Mr. Baxter. But, on second thoughts, I saw the wisdom of abandoning both these courses. If you have followed the thread of my narrative, you will readily understand why.

Nor for the same reason did I feel inclined to board the steamer which I could see lying out in the harbour, until darkness had fallen. I ascertained, however, that she was due to sail at midnight, and that the mails were already being got aboard.

Almost exactly as eight o’clock was striking, I mounted the gangway, and strolled down the promenade deck to the first saloon entrance; then calling a steward to my assistance, I had my baggage conveyed to my cabin, where I set to work arranging my little knicknacks, and making myself comfortable for the five weeks’ voyage that lay before us. So far I had seen nothing of my friends, and, on making enquiries, I discovered that they had not yet come aboard. Indeed, they did not do so until the last boat had discharged its burden at the gangway. Then I met Lord Beckenham on the promenade deck, and