When we reached the Praca do Commercio, Vasco got up and jumped off and hurried along the Rua da Alfandega. There was little fear of my attracting notice here as there were still plenty of people about, and I had no difficulty in following him. I guessed now that he was making for the landing-stage near the Artillery Museum, and just as he reached that building he was accosted by two men in the dress of sailors. He drew back nervously at first, with a sharp stare; then began to talk to them; and they walked on together. They were as much like sailors as I was like the cross of St. Paul’s, and walked with the stiff upright carriage of well-drilled soldiers. It was clear that I was not the only person in Lisbon that night with a fancy for disguise, and this discovery confirmed my opinion that Vasco was making for the landing-stage. Were Burroughs’ suspicions of that yacht, the _Rampallo_, about to be confirmed? It looked uncommonly like it. CHAPTER XX A NIGHT ADVENTURE ON THE RIVER The fact that Vasco’s companions--presumably his fellow-officers--were playing at being sailors, increased the need for extreme caution. I dropped back and followed at a distance, contented to keep the three men just in sight. They made straight for the landing-stage, got aboard a small launch in which another man was waiting, and cast off at once and headed out into the estuary. They were going to the _Rampallo_, of course; and equally of course I must manage to get on board after them. I could not follow immediately, however, as the noise of my launch would be heard and a dozen suspicions started. I guessed that a conference was to be held on the yacht about the information which Vasco had brought; but why such a place was chosen for it baffled me. The reason could not be merely the desire for absolute privacy which had induced me to take Dagara to the _Stella_. These men must have a dozen places in the city where they could meet without a remote chance of being overheard. Still I had to deal with facts, and the controlling fact now was that the papers were on Vasco and he was going to the yacht. I must therefore follow him or throw up the sponge. While I was waiting Burroughs arrived. “I lost you in the Rua Sao Benito, Ralph,” he explained, “so I thought it best to come on to the launch. Why are you here?” I told him briefly what had occurred, and what I meant to do, and in a few minutes we were on our way to the _Stella_. “You’re taking risks,” he said, as we sat talking it over.