Benton looked up quickly and his eyes met those of the Spaniard with a
swiftly flashed message which excluded Harcourt.
"This fellow and I were on the same boat coming over to Valetta,"
continued the young tourist. "One night in the smoke-room, the steward
was filling the glasses pretty frequently. At last he became
confidential."
"Yes?" prompted Benton.
"Well, he told me he had once held a commission in the British Army and
had seen service in diplomacy as military attaché. Then he got
cashiered. He didn't go into particulars, and of course I didn't
cross-question. He recited some weird experiences. He had been a cattle
man in Australia and a horse-trader in Syria and had served the Sultan
in Turkey. There were lots of things that would have made a good book."
The boy's voice took on a note of young ardor. "But the great story was
the one he told last. He had stood to win a title of nobility in this
two-by-four Kingdom of Galavia, but it had slipped away from him just on
the verge of attainment."
Harcourt slowly drained his thin Capri wine and set down the goblet.
"I must watch the time," he remembered at last, drawing out his watch.
"I do the Blue Grotto this afternoon.... Well, to continue: This chap
gave the name Browne (he insisted that it be Browne with an e), though
while he was drunk he called himself Martin.
"He told a long and complicated story of plans in which a King was to
lose his life and throne. He said that the secret cabinets of several of
the major European governments were interested, and that just as
carefully prepared plans were about to be consummated something
happened--something mysterious which none of the cleverest agents of the
governments had been able to solve. In some unfathomable way someone had
discovered everything and stepped between and disarranged. No upheaval
followed and of course Browne never won his title. They have never yet
learned who saved that throne. Someone is working magic and getting
away with it under the eyes of Europe's cleverest detectives."
The boy stopped and looked about to see if his recital had aroused the
proper wonderment. Both men gave expression of deep interest. Flattered
by the impression he had made, Harcourt went on. "Now you fellows are
old travelers--men of the world--I am a kid compared to you. Yet has
either of you stumbled on such a story as that? So you see wonderful
things do sometimes happen under the surface of affairs with never a
ripple at the top of the water. Browne--or Martin--said that the Duke
would reign yet--oh, yes, he said the Powers would see to that!"
"Señor, what became of your friend?" inquired Blanco.
"Oh!" the boy hesitated for a moment, then broke into a laugh. "I'm
afraid that's an anti-climax. They found that he was simply a nervy
stowaway. He had not booked his passage and so--"