The Kidnapped President Read online

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  "'STOP!'"]

  THE

  KIDNAPPED PRESIDENT

  BY

  GUY BOOTHBY

  AUTHOR OF

  'DR. NIKOLA,' 'A BID FOR FORTUNE,' 'THE BEAUTIFUL WHITE DEVIL,' ETC.

  ILLUSTRATIONS BY STANLEY L. WOOD

  _LONDON_

  WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED

  NEW YORK AND MELBOURNE

  1902

  'THE KIDNAPPED PRESIDENT'

  CHAPTER I

  I suppose to every man, at some period in his life, there comes someadventure upon which, in after life, he is destined to look back witha feeling that is very near akin to astonishment. Somebody has saidthat adventures are to the adventurous. In my case I must confess thatI do not see how the remark applies. I was certainly fourteen years atsea, but in all that time, beyond having once fallen overboard inTable Bay, and, of course, the great business of which it is thepurpose of this book to tell you, I cannot remember any circumstancethat I could dignify with the title of an adventure. The sailor'scalling in these times of giant steamships is so vastly different fromwhat it was in the old days of sailing ships and long voyages that,with the most ordinary luck, a man might work his way up the ratlinesfrom apprentice to skipper with little less danger than would be metwith in a London merchant's office. Though I was not aware of it,however, I was destined to have an adventure, stirring enough tosatisfy the most daring, before my seafaring life came to an end.

  How well I remember the day on which I was appointed fourth officer ofthe ocean liner _Pernambuco_, running from London to South America. Ishould here remark that I held a second officer's certificate, but Iwas, nevertheless, glad enough to take what I could get, in the hopeof being able to work my way up to something better. It was not a badrise, when all was said and done, to leave a ramshackle old tub of atramp for the comparatively luxurious life of a mail boat; muchjollier merely to run out to the Argentine and back, instead ofdodging at a snail's pace from port to port all round the world. Thenagain there was the question of society. It was pleasanter in everyrespect to have pretty girls to flirt with on deck, and to sit besideone at meals, than to have no one to talk to save a captain who was inan intoxicated state five days out of seven, a grumpy old chief mate,and a Scotch engineer, who could recite anything Burns ever wrote,backwards or forwards, as you might choose to ask him for it. When Ihad been six months on board the _Pernambuco_, I was made thirdofficer; at the end of the year I signed my name on the pay-sheet assecond. Eventually I got my Master's Certificate, and became chiefofficer. Now everybody knows, or ought to know, that the duties ofchief officer on board a big liner, and, for the matter of that, onany other boat, are as onerous as they are varied. In the first place,he is the chief executive officer of the ship, and is heldresponsible, not only for its appearance, but also for the properworking of the crew. It is a position that requires consummate tact.He must know when to see things and when not to see them, must be ableto please the passengers, and yet protect the interests of his owners,must, and this is not the least important fact, be able to keep hismen constantly employed, yet not earn for himself the reputation ofbeing too hard a task-master. Finally, he has to see that all thecredit for what he does is not appropriated by himself, but goes toincrease the _kudos_ of his commanding officer. If the latter is agentleman, and can appreciate his officers' endeavours at their realvalue, matters will in all probability go smoothly; on the other hand,however, if the captain is a bully, then the chief officer is likelyto wish himself elsewhere, or at least that he was the holder of someother rank. This was my case on my last and most memorable voyage inthe service of a particular Company that every one knows, but which,for various reasons, shall be nameless.

  I had never met Captain Harveston until he joined us in dock on theday previous to sailing, but I had heard some scarcely complimentaryremarks about him from men who had sailed with him. I must confess,therefore, that I was prepared to dislike him. In appearance he was asunlike a sailor as a man could well be, was a great dandy in hisdress, and evidently looked upon himself as an undoubted lady-killer.So far as I was concerned, he had hardly set foot on the vessel beforehe commenced finding fault. A ship in dock, before the passengers comeaboard, and while the thousand and one preparations are being made fora voyage, is seldom an example of tidiness. Surely a skipper, who hadbeen at sea for thirty years, must have realized this; for somereason, however, best known to himself, it pleased Captain Harvestonto inaugurate our acquaintance by telling me that he liked a "spic andspan ship," and that he judged his officers by what he saw of theirwork.

  "You shall have nothing to complain of as soon as I get the workmenout, sir," I replied, a bit nettled at being called over the coalsupon such a trumpery matter.

  "I trust I shall not," he answered superciliously, and then strutteddown the bridge to his own cabin, which was just abaft thechart-room.

  As it turned out, the Isle of Wight was scarcely astern before thetrouble began. Young Herberts, our second officer, was the first toget a wigging, and Harrison, the fourth, quickly followed suit. I feltsure my time would not be long in coming, and I was not wrong. On thesecond day out, and during my watch below, I was talking to the purserin his cabin, when the fourth officer appeared to inform me that thecaptain wished to see me on the promenade deck. Thither I made my way,to find him seated there with a number of lady passengers round him.

  "Surely he is not going to be nasty before these ladies," I said tomyself as I approached him.

  I discovered, however, that this was exactly what he was going to do.

  "Mr. Helmsworth," he began, "I am told that you have refused thepassengers the use of the bull-board."

  "Indeed, sir, I have not," I replied. "I informed one of the gentlemenwho spoke to me about it that I would have it brought up directly wewere clear of the Channel. As a rule we never produce it until we'reout of the Bay. I had Captain Pomeroy's instructions to that effect."

  "I am captain of this vessel now," he returned. "Please see that theboard is brought on deck at once. I must ask you for the future to doall that lies in your power to promote the pleasure of the passengers.It is a duty I have a right to expect of my officers."

  "Very good, sir," I answered and walked away.

  From that day forward I saw that my service under Captain Harvestonwas likely to be a short one, and, indeed, by the time we reachedBuenos Ayres, I felt as if I could throw up my appointment altogether.He was never satisfied, never pleased, and did nothing but grumble andfind fault from morning until night.

  After the usual fortnight's stay at the capital of the Argentine, wecommenced our homeward voyage. Our first port of call was Rio, whereHarveston and the third officer came to loggerheads. By this time thewhole ship's company had taken his measure, and I fancy he must haveknown it. Being of a petty disposition, he attributed this to me, andaccordingly laid himself out to make my life aboard as disagreeable asit was possible for him to do. How bitterly I regretted the loss of myold skipper, who had been kindness and consideration itself, I mustleave you to imagine.

  And now I must turn from a narration of my own misfortunes duringthat miserable voyage to give you a description of a man, whosepersonality is destined to play such
an important part in mynarrative. He joined us at Rio, and was one of the last passengers tocome aboard. He was a Spaniard, and, as could be seen at a glance, awell-bred one at that. He called himself Don Guzman de Silvestre. Hewas very tall; I should say some inches over six feet, with thedarkest of dark eyes and hair, aquiline features, and a small pointedbeard, that he had a habit of stroking when thinking. Takenaltogether, a more romantic personality could scarcely be imagined,and as he came up the gangway, I told myself that he was the bestfigure of a man I had seen for some considerable time. When he askedme at what hour we should sail, I noticed that he spoke Englishperfectly, and in a musical voice that was very pleasant to listen to.Before we had been many days at sea, he and I had had several talksupon all sorts of subjects, considerably to Captain Harveston'sannoyance, for the latter did not approve of his officers being onanything like friendly terms with the passengers. Having no desire toquarrel with my chief, I endeavoured, as far as possible, to keep outof his way, but for some reason this only had the effect of incensinghim more against me.

  We were a full ship on the homeward voyage, and, as we generally dida lot of painting between Barbadoes and Madeira, I found my timepretty well taken up. It was in connection with this painting that theclimax came. We had left the West Indies behind us, and at the timewere steering a straight course for Madeira. The men, when theincident I am about to describe happened, were at work on the portrails of the promenade deck. One of them, who had been outside therail, climbed over, pot in hand, to obey an order I had given him. Atthe moment that he did so, the long Atlantic swell caused the vesselto give a big roll, and before he could save himself, he was flyingacross the deck towards a chair in which a lady was seated. They cameinto violent collision, with the result that the pot of white paintwas deposited in her lap. I hastened to her assistance, and did allthat was possible at the moment to remedy the mishap. Fortunately forthe man, who was overcome by the magnitude of the catastrophe, shetook the accident in excellent part.

  "You must not blame the man," she said to me. "It was not his fault. Ishall have to sue the ocean for damages."

  Then with a laugh she went below to change her attire.

  As ill luck would have it, just after she had disappeared, theskipper emerged from the companion, and saw the splashes of paint.

  "What's the meaning of this, sir?" he asked, turning on me angrily.

  "One of the men met with an accident, sir," I replied. "The roll ofthe ship caused him to upset the paint-pot."

  "You should not put that class of fellow to do such work," hereturned, oblivious to the fact that he was committing theunpardonable sin of admonishing an officer before the men. "You seemto have no discrimination at all, Mr. Helmsworth."

  With that he walked away, leaving me to chew my cud of humiliation insilence. After luncheon I received an order to go to the captain'scabin. I could see that I was in for more trouble, but could not guesswhat. One thing was very evident; he was in a towering rage.

  "How is it, Mr. Helmsworth," he began, when I had entered the cabinand had closed the door, "that you deliberately kept things from methis morning that it was your duty to tell me?"

  "I am not aware that I have kept anything back from you, sir," Ireplied, as civilly as I knew how, for I had no desire to lose mytemper. "If it is with regard to the tiller of the port quarterboat----"

  "It has nothing whatever to do with the port quarter boat," heanswered savagely. "I want to know how it was that you did not tell meabout that lady's dress being spoilt this morning. You should havereported the matter to me. Had it not been for my steward, I shouldhave known nothing whatsoever about it."

  "I did not think it worth while to trouble you with it, sir," Ireplied. "It was a pure accident, and Miss Burgess forgave the man,and admitted that he was not to blame."

  "Accident or no accident," he retorted, "you should have informed meof the circumstance. I consider you sadly wanting in your duty, Mr.Helmsworth. Of late, your manner has been most disrespectful to me,and I tell you to your face, sir, that your ship is a disgrace to anychief officer."

  "I am sorry you should say that," I answered, endeavouring to keep mytemper; "I have always had the reputation of turning my ship out well.If you will point out anything that is wrong, I will at once have itrectified."

  "Don't bandy words with me, sir," he stormed. "I am not used to itfrom my officers. I repeat that your ship is a disgrace to any chiefofficer, and I shall take care that the matter is duly reported to theBoard as soon as we reach London."

  "Perhaps you will be good enough to tell me what you consider wrong,sir?"

  "Everything," he answered. "I thought yesterday I pointed out to you ahole in the after awning."

  "You did, sir, and it has been repaired. I put the sail-maker on to itat once."

  He rose from his chair with a look of triumph on his face.

  "Kindly step aft with me," he said, "and let us examine it forourselves."

  Feeling confident that what I had said was correct, I gladlyaccompanied him, but to my horror, when we reached the place inquestion, there was the rent gaping at us without a stitch in it.

  "I regret exceedingly that you should consider it necessary to coveryour negligence by telling me what is not true," he said in a voice soloud that some of the second-class passengers could hear it.

  This was more than I could swallow.

  "I'll not be called a liar by you, Captain Harveston, or by any manliving," I retorted, feeling that I would have given something to havebeen able to have knocked him down. "If you will send for thesail-maker, he will inform you that I gave him orders to do it thismorning. It is no fault of mine that he has neglected his duty."

  "It is the fault of no one else, sir," returned the captain. "If youkept the men up to their work, this would not have been left undone. Ishall be careful to enter this occurrence in the log-book."

  So saying he stalked majestically away, and I went in search of thesail-maker. The man, it appeared, had intended doing the work, but hadbeen called away to something else, and had forgotten it. After that,I returned to my own cabin, and sat down to think the matter over.There could be no sort of doubt that I was in an exceedinglyunenviable position. I could quite see that if Harveston reported me,the Board would be likely to believe his version of the story, andeven if they did not consider me quite as negligent as he wasendeavouring to make me, they would probably argue that I was not allI might be, on the basis that there can be no smoke without fire.Whatever else might be said, a reputation for slovenliness anduntruthfulness would be scarcely likely to help me in my career. Fromthat day forward matters went from bad to worse. It seemed impossiblefor me to do right, however hard I might try. What was more annoying,I began to feel that, not content with disliking me himself, thecaptain was endeavouring to set the passengers against me also.

  During the run across the Atlantic I had, as I have said, severallong talks with Don Guzman de Silvestre. The man interested meimmensely. What his profession was I could not ascertain, but fromnumberless little remarks he let fall, I gathered that he was thepossessor of considerable wealth. Certainly he had seen a variety ofstrange life. Were it not that he narrated his adventures with an airof truth that left no room for doubt, it would have been impossible tohave believed him. He had seen fighting in Mexico, in Nicaragua, inBrazil, and with Balmaceda in Chili.

  "I suppose in South America there will be Revolutions until the end ofTime," I remarked one evening, as we sat talking together in my cabin.

  "I should say it is more than likely," he answered, taking his cigarfrom his mouth and holding it between his long, slim fingers. "If youtake specimens of all the most excitable races in the world and graftthem on stock even more excitable than themselves, what can youexpect? In such countries Might must always be Right, and the weakestwill go to the wall."

  "I shouldn't care much about being President in that description ofplace," I returned. "It's a case of being in power and popular to-day,unpopular and assassinat
ed to-morrow."

  "There is certainly a large amount of risk in this," the Don repliedmeditatively. "And yet men are always to be found desirous of takingup the reins of government."

  I could not help wondering whether he had ever felt the ambition hespoke of.

  "I remember meeting a man in Paris some years ago," he continued aftera few moments' silence, "who was what one might call a world'svagabond. He had been a soldier in French Africa, a shearer inAustralia, a miner at the Cape, a stockbroker in New York, and severalother things. When I met him, he was, as I have said, in Paris, andpractically starving. He could speak half the languages of the worldwell enough to be thought a native, was absolutely fearless; indeed,taken altogether he was about as devil-may-care a sort of fellow as Ihad ever met in my life. Three years later he was Dictator of one ofthe South American Republics we have been speaking of."

  "And where is he now?"

  "At the end of six months another man came upon the scene, won thefavour of the Standing Army, and began to make trouble for those inpower, with the result that my friend had to vacate his office, alsothe country, at remarkably short notice. Some day he will go back andendeavour to unseat the individual who supplanted him. The lattergained his place by treachery, but if he is not careful he will loseit by something else."

  "Your friend is a man who does not forget an injury then?" I remarked,with a well-defined suspicion that he was speaking of himself.

  "I rather fancy he is," he replied. "At any rate, I am quite certainhe is not one who forgives."

  Then he changed the conversation by inquiring how long I had been atsea, and what countries I had visited. With some of them he professedto be acquainted.

  "It is rather impertinent of me to say so," he said, looking round tosee that there was no one near the door, "but I am afraid you and yourcaptain are not on the best of terms."

  "I am sorry to say that we are not," I answered, and stopped there,for I had no desire to discuss the matter with him.

  "You hold a Master's Certificate, do you not?" he inquired.

  I answered in the affirmative, and once more he was silent.

  "I suppose you would have no objection to shipping as captain," hewent on after a long pause, "if the opportunity ever presenteditself?"

  "Most certainly I should not," I replied, with a laugh. "I fear,however, it will be some time before I shall have such anopportunity."

  "In this line, perhaps," he said, "but I suppose, if you had an offerfrom another firm, you would accept it?"

  "I should feel very much inclined to do so," I said, wondering at thesame time what he was driving at.

  "Are you married?"

  "No," I replied, "but I hope to be as soon as I can afford it. So faras I can see, however, that event, like the captainship, is a long wayoff. The good old days when skippers made money are past, andnow-a-days, what with entertaining and one thing and another, it's asmuch as a man can do to make both ends meet. Sometimes I'm afraid theydon't meet at all. I wish some kind friend would come along and offerme a comfortable shore billet on anything like pay--it would do himgood to see me jump at it."

  "That may come yet," he replied, and then he rose and bade megood-night.

  A few evenings later, and as we were approaching the English Channel,he again spoke to me on the subject. His persistent recurrence to itgave me a feeling that there was something behind it all. But whatthat something was I had no sort of idea. I was destined to find out,however, even sooner than I imagined.