He said nothing while I told him everything. He did not interrupt once, and his unreadable face revealed nothing of what he was thinking.
“My own investigation can be summed up in a few words,” he said at last. “The little steamship that carries supplies to the cove behind the inn belongs to Helzephron. She is much faster and far better equipped than most people realize.”
“Where is she kept?”
“At the small port of Hayle, on the main railway line between Plymouth and Penzance, in St. Ives Bay. At regular intervals, large quantities of petrol arrive there in separate shipments from different parts of the country.”
I stared at him.
“Then what happens?”
“The Sea Gull is loaded to the limit, then makes the short trip from Hayle to Zerran Cove.”
“That’s the final link!” I exclaimed. “There can be no doubt now!”
“There is another fact that is even more interesting.”
He paused before continuing.
“Hayle was once a much more important place than it is today. It used to have large foundries and engineering works. They were abandoned years ago because the harbor gradually filled with silt, and only small-draft vessels can enter easily now.”
“But the buildings are still there?”
“Yes. The old foundry buildings remain. Parts of them have occasionally been rented to small businesses. Three years ago, Helzephron rented a section of the works and installed machinery there.”
“How many men did he employ?”
“About twenty laborers. But whatever he was really doing took place inside a large experimental shed. Only Helzephron and his close associates were allowed inside.”
“They were already living at Zerran?”
“Yes. They drove over there every day in motorcars. The local people were told that new machinery was being manufactured for Wheal Tregeraint. There were also frequent shipments from Hayle to Zerran Cove.”
“And the Pirate Ship itself?”
“Who knows?”
Danjuro’s expression remained calm.
“We are still feeling our way through the darkness. I have considered many theories and rejected them all. I want to approach the final mystery with a completely open mind. We can learn nothing more until we reach the place itself.”
He looked directly at me.
“Our preliminary investigation is finished. The real work begins now.”
“It is a sinister enough problem,” I said bitterly. “But it is not the thing that troubles me most.”
My voice faltered.
“Danjuro, when I lay among the heather and looked down at that lonely house, thinking about the men who live there, my heart nearly failed me. The pain became almost unbearable.”
I swallowed hard.
“She may be there even now. Helpless. In their power…”
I could not finish.
I covered my face with my hands. I had never come so close to breaking down.
Then I felt Danjuro’s hand on my shoulder.
“I have thought of that constantly,” he said quietly. “But do not give way now. The time for action has come.”
He stood up.
“We go to the inn at Zerran tonight. Within the hour.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes. We cannot waste another moment. Helzephron has been kept in London, and that removes one great danger from our path. We may never have another opportunity like this.”
He spoke with complete certainty.
“When dealing with enemies such as these, we must strike while they believe themselves safest. Before dawn, we must uncover the deepest secrets of Tregeraint.”
By then I had grown used to thinking of Danjuro as the leader of our expedition. His decision came like cool water to a man dying of thirst.
I rose, feeling completely myself again.
“There is no reason why we cannot settle into Zerran tonight instead of tomorrow morning. Trewhella won’t object.”
“I will have the car ready within an hour. Meanwhile, I have one or two things to arrange. Perhaps you could settle the hotel bill, Sir John, and tell them we are leaving?”
It was an unbearably hot night as the car climbed toward the moors.
Our headlights swept across the roadside gorse and heather, making them rush past like scenes in some strange golden film. Ahead and behind us lay deep blackness.
Danjuro sat beside me in silence, his massive head bent forward in thought.
About halfway there, he suddenly spoke.
“This would be an ideal night for another raid along the Atlantic air-lanes.”
I said nothing.
I was thinking about what lay ahead.
Tonight, then, we would cross swords with our cunning enemy. Tonight, we would fire the first shot.
What would they do in return?
I felt no fear.
I felt only a fierce determination not to fail—to rescue her and to see justice done.
For days I had been miserable because I had been thinking instead of acting. Thought can weaken a man in a way that action never does.
As we raced along the dark moor road toward the lonely inn, whose windows now glowed yellow in the distance, I silently prayed for justice and mercy.
Then, as though an answer had come at that very moment, a line from the ninety-first Psalm entered my mind:
“I will deliver thee from the snare of the hunter.”
After that, I pushed every other thought aside.
As we rolled quietly up to the inn, we heard loud singing coming from the long room.
A tall woman stepped through a side door.
I explained that we had decided to arrive earlier than planned. She was a pleasant, cheerful woman and made no fuss about our sudden arrival.
Our bedrooms and sitting-room were ready.
After Thumbwood had taken the car around to the barn, he went upstairs to unpack our luggage.
Mr. Trewhella soon appeared from the bar.
I introduced him to Danjuro, and we arranged to have supper at half-past ten.
The singing continued downstairs, loud enough to shake the walls, accompanied by the twang of a banjo.
“Your guests seem to be enjoying themselves tonight,” Danjuro remarked.
“They’re the gentlemen from the mine, sir,” Trewhella replied. “Tonight’s their night off, so to speak. Would you care to join them for half an hour?”
“I think not on our first night.”
Danjuro smiled.
“But they sing very well. As a foreigner, I am interested in English customs. May I have a look?”
Before I could answer, he had gone to the communicating door.
He pulled aside the red curtain covering the upper part of the glass and peered through.
I looked as well.
The long room was packed with men and thick with tobacco smoke.
Except for one man, Mr. Vargus, they were all young—mostly between twenty-three and thirty.
Many wore old tweed suits, but the quality of the cloth and the cut of the jackets told me that these were not ordinary working men’s clothes. They had the look of expensive tailoring.
At first glance, they could have been naval officers or senior university students.
But only at first glance.
I studied their faces one after another.
What I saw there was the absence of innocence and honor.
Some had sly, calculating expressions. Others had a brutality that seemed completely wrong in such young men. Every pair of eyes carried the same hard arrogance.
It was sickening.
I felt as though we had accidentally looked into a world that was never meant to be seen.
Something monstrous seemed to hide within that cloud of smoke.
I almost wanted to spit on the floor in disgust.
As I turned away, I saw Trewhella watching me.
“A promising collection of young devils,” I said.
“You see it too, zur?” he replied.
Before I could answer, Danjuro touched my arm.
I turned back.
A man without a hat had just entered from outside.
He sat down in a chair that he had clearly occupied earlier. His naval cap was lying on it.
He was a large, rather foolish-looking man, obviously very drunk.
Yet despite his condition, his face was the only wholesome one in the room.
“Who is that?” I whispered to Trewhella.
“That’s Billy Pengelly, our coastguard.”
Mr. Vargus was pouring a generous measure of rum into Pengelly’s glass.
“The gentlemen make quite a lot of him,” Trewhella continued. “Billy likes his drink, and it’s none too good for him. Still, he sleeps it off, and he’s strong as a bull.”
He lowered his voice.
“In a lonely place like this, there’s not often anyone around to see whether he’s actually keeping watch.”
A tall young man holding a banjo suddenly stood up.
“All right, gentlemen!” he shouted in a clear tenor voice. “Let’s have a chorus!”
Without another word, he launched into the pirate song from Treasure Island.
“Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest!
Yo, ho! and a bottle of rum!”
The entire inn seemed to shake with the noise.
I stood there, fascinated and horrified at the same time.
Knowing what I knew, the song was so bold and sinister that it told me more about these men than anything else could have done.
Danjuro did not understand the significance.
I quietly explained it to him in French.
His eyes narrowed.
The singing grew louder.
“Drink, and the devil had done for the rest,
Yo, ho! and a bottle of rum!”
The room seemed too small to contain the noise.
The windows appeared ready to shatter.
Then, in the middle of the uproar, I heard something else.
The deep, urgent throb of an engine.
Danjuro heard it too.
“Motorcycle,” he whispered.
The sound grew louder.
Whoever was approaching was riding at full speed, with the exhaust completely open.
Then came several sharp reports, followed by a grinding sound.
Suddenly, the bar door flew open.
A tall man wearing goggles and dust-covered overalls strode into the room.
The pirate song stopped instantly.
Every singer jumped to his feet.
The newcomer removed his goggles and cap.
It was Major Helzephron.
The men immediately crowded around him.
He said a few quiet words to each man.
Every time he spoke to one of them, the man nodded and disappeared into the night.
I could hear their footsteps running outside.
Finally, Helzephron took Vargus by the arm, and the two of them went out together.
For the first time, I saw Helzephron’s face clearly.
A large bruise surrounded his left eye, and his face was pale.
But his eyes burned with determination.
His cruel mouth was twisted into a vicious, hateful smile.
Two minutes later, Danjuro and I were back in my bedroom.
“The wolves are hunting tonight,” he said.
Once again, his face looked like that of some ancient demon from Japan.
“Helzephron will not appear at the police court tomorrow.”
“How do you know?”
“He has arranged things somehow. In any case, that matter is insignificant now. He has ridden down from London today.”
“You mean there is going to be a raid tonight?”
“I am certain of it.”
“Why?”
“Why else would he rush down from London? And you saw how his men reacted when he arrived.”
Danjuro paced slowly across the room.
“Think about it. For all his cunning, the pirate is too intelligent not to realize that he cannot remain hidden forever. He knows his career must be short.”
“What is he trying to do?”
“Make an enormous fortune as quickly as possible.”
He looked at me.
“I estimate that he has already stolen jewels and money worth around two hundred thousand pounds. A few more successful raids and he can dismiss his men and disappear forever.”
“So speed is everything.”
“Exactly.”
“But we have to stop him.”
“Our opportunity is better than ever, Sir John.”
“What do you suggest?”
“First, you must arrange for a fleet of patrol ships to be concentrated in this area.”
“The car is here. I can send coded official telegrams to Plymouth and London.”
I was already thinking ahead.
“Within an hour, the coast and the sea between here and the Scilly Isles can be covered by patrol vessels. St. Ives is only six miles away.”
“Send the messages immediately. I will call Thumbwood. He can take them into town, together with an official note from you to the postmaster.”
I unlocked my portfolio and wrote the telegrams.
Before long, the skies and waters of far-west Cornwall would be filled with patrol craft.
Thumbwood arrived.
I gave him precise instructions and watched him leave.
A moment later, we heard the Rolls-Royce start below.
“And now,” I said to Danjuro, “our part.”
“If our theory is correct, the pirates will soon leave Tregeraint for their expedition.”
“How will they get to the airship?”
“We don’t know.”
“Then how can we stop them?”
“We can’t yet. But we can make a reasonable assumption. Once the main party leaves, the house will probably be guarded by no more than one or two men.”
“The others will be needed to crew the ship.”
“Precisely.”
Danjuro’s eyes hardened.
“This is your opportunity. You must get inside Tregeraint and obtain conclusive evidence.”
“And if she is there?”
“If the poor lady is still alive, you must bring her out safely.”
He paused.
“Perhaps tonight the Pirate Ship will make its final voyage.”
“What about our presence here?”
“They have no idea who we are. They certainly won’t expect a concentration of hostile airships and patrol vessels in this area tonight.”
“And you?”
“I wish I could go with you.”
“Then come.”
“I would gladly do so, because you are going into great danger. But I believe my task must be different.”
He glanced toward the window.
“Someone must uncover the secret of the Pirate Ship itself. I already have a theory. I must test it.”
“You think you can find something at the cove?”
“There are boats down there. The moon is rising, and I know what I must do.”
He looked at me.
“Even so, I will come with you if you insist.”
I shook my head.
“No. I’ll go alone. This is my responsibility.”
Danjuro did something unexpected.
He took my hand, bowed over it, and kissed it.
“You also are of the Samurai,” he said.
A minute later he returned from his bedroom carrying a heavy bag.
He opened it and began laying out its contents.
“Here is a twelve-shot automatic, with a dozen cartridge clips.”
I examined the weapon.
“You know how to use it, I assume?”
“I do.”
“I thought so. You will need these wire cutters for the barbed fence.”
He placed another pair of objects beside them.
“These adjustable keys will open most ordinary locks. You turn the small screw at the end to change the wards.”
Then he produced a heavy steel lever with a wedge-shaped end.
“This will force open most windows or doors if you have the strength to use it.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, I laughed.
“The complete burglar.”
Danjuro stared at me with an expression as cold as ice.
“I am completely serious, Sir John.”
He leaned closer.
“You know something of my experience. I tell you deliberately that I have never seen a man walk into greater danger than the one you are about to face.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it.”
I picked up a small leather tube with a lens at one end.
“And what is this?”
“A powerful electric torch.”
He took it from me.
“But it has another purpose. You can reverse it instantly in your hand. Press this button, and the plated bottom springs open.”
He demonstrated.
“An ounce of cayenne pepper is then projected several yards. It will stop an attacker immediately.”
“Very useful.”
“I invented it myself.”
He picked up another item.
“These handcuffs are made from papier-mâché. They weigh almost nothing, but they are as strong as steel. They came from Japan.”
He put down a tiny bottle and a small pad.
“And I never go on an expedition without chloroform. Everything can be carried easily, and the total weight is negligible.”
I strapped the equipment to myself.
He was right. It was surprisingly light.
Then another thought occurred to me.
“I can probably get inside with all this. But there are two Tibetan mastiffs loose in the grounds at night.”
Danjuro nodded.
“I could shoot them, but the gunshots would alert everyone.”
“That problem is already solved.”
He picked up another weapon.
“You see this?”
It looked like a short-barreled rook rifle, except that the breech was unusually thick.
“It holds ten conical bullets. They are hollow-nosed and expand when they strike.”
“And the advantage?”
“The gun makes almost no sound.”
“How?”
“There is no gunpowder. The bullets are propelled by liquefied carbon-dioxide gas.”
He demonstrated the action.
“When fired, all you hear is a sharp snap. You can stalk the dogs and kill them without alerting the house.”
He reached into the bag again.
“Don’t forget your hunting flask. Brandy and water.”
Then he handed me several solid chocolate cakes.
“And if you have to hide somewhere for several hours, these will keep you going.”
Everything had been prepared with remarkable speed and precision.
I could not help thinking of the White Knight in Alice in Wonderland, carrying an absurd collection of equipment into battle.
But I also knew the truth.
Anyone who tried to tackle me tonight was going to have a very unpleasant surprise.
I was grateful for every one of those strange little inventions.
While we were talking, we heard sounds from downstairs as the inn began to close.
A little later, we were called down to supper.
“Don’t stay up any longer, Mr. Trewhella,” I said. “You must need your sleep.”
I smiled.
“As for us, we’re both late sleepers. Sometimes my friend and I take a five-minute walk before turning in. That won’t cause you any trouble, will it?”
“Bless your life, no, zur. Do as you please.”
He pointed toward the entrance.
“This isn’t a town. The front-door key hangs on a nail beside the door.”
Then he grinned.
“And if you do go out later, Billy Pengelly is sleeping it off in the old pigsty. There’s a bucket of cold water hanging on the wall.”
He chuckled.
“In another half-hour or so, I’m sure Billy would be grateful if someone poured it over him.”
We promised to do what was clearly an accepted custom in that primitive place.
Trewhella left us.
“That coastguard may prove useful,” Danjuro said.
Then he turned serious.
“And now, Sir John, I don’t want to rush you, but you should leave.”
“You think the band hasn’t left Tregeraint yet?”
“I doubt it. There are hundreds of places to hide on the moor around the estate.”
He continued quietly.
“You may be able to watch them and discover which direction they take before making your own move. I will follow you within a few minutes.”
“And Charles?”
“He will return shortly.”
“I need him. I know he would want to accompany you, but I believe you have a better chance alone.”
He looked at his watch.
“I will wait for him unless he is delayed too long.”
Danjuro went to the window and pulled back the curtain.
“The moon is waning,” he said.
“But it will be strong around midnight.”
He looked toward the dark sky.
“There may be a battle in the air tonight that the whole world will hear about.”
I checked my equipment one final time.
Everything fitted comfortably.
“Well, good night.”
I left the inn without another word.
A hundred yards down the road, I stopped and turned back.
The inn stood beneath the moonlight, every wall and roof silver.
The air was sweet with the scent of tiny moorland flowers that released their fragrance into the night.
Far below, the Atlantic murmured softly, like something from a fairy tale.
On the distant slopes of Carne Zerran, an owl gave a long, melancholy call.
It was a beautiful night.