“With whom? Who’s to assure me of that? It’s nearly midnight. Where do you suppose these men would be by the time I had roused first Volheno and then old Franco the Dictator, and argued the matter out. And if they refused, where should I find myself? I can tell you. In gaol until I opened my lips. I’m already half-suspect as it is. That saw won’t cut any ice, Jack.” “But you won’t let the thing go through, surely?” “What’s the King of Portugal to me, and what do I care whether his name’s Carlos or Miguel?” “Well then, tell mademoiselle what’s going on and get her to make a bolt of it on the _Stella_ to-morrow, and leave word behind you and queer the plan that way.” “There are several reasons against that, but one’s enough. She wouldn’t leave her mother to bear the brunt of things, her brother’s up to the eyes in it, and if she did bolt, she’d be under the charge all her life long and her flight would be accepted as proof of guilt.” “Well, I give it up then,” he exclaimed with a shrug. “But I don’t. I can’t. I’ve got to queer the thing somehow and make certain of mademoiselle’s safety. And I’ve got to do it off my own bat. Wait a bit, wait a bit,” I exclaimed after some minutes’ thought. “I’ve got an idea coming. By the lord-knows-who, I believe it would be possible. Let’s go over that business again. He lands from the launch, goes into the shed--there are two sheds, I remember--he goes out with his two friends, the coachman sees him and under pretence of the horses turning restive, backs the carriage past the corner, the two friends turn back. I wonder if both sheds have doors at the back. I expect so.” “Is that Greek you’re muttering?” broke in Burroughs. “Stand up, Jack, let’s have a look at you.” He got up and I laughed as I looked him over. “Wait a bit, take your coat off,” and I plunged into my cabin and fished out a thick tweed shooting coat and a soft felt hat. “Here, put these on, quick.” He did so, muttering: “Is this a pantomime rehearsal?” “By the lord Harry, it’ll do,” I cried excitedly, smacking my hands together. “What’ll do?” “Wait, man, wait. It’s all coming up like a clear photo. How much taller am I of us two? By George, two inches. That’s a heap; but padding might take off some of it.” “Perhaps you’d like to know how much thinner you are than I am next?” he said with a grin. “That’s just what I would,” I replied to his still greater surprise. “Six inches, eh. That’s a lot.” “And muscle too, not fat, mind that.” “But I can get over that, easily enough.” “When you’ve a minute to spare perhaps you’ll tell me why you take this sudden interest in my anatomy?” he asked drily, as he threw off my shooting coat and put on his jacket. “I’m going to crown you and be your Majesty’s understudy at the same time, King Jack Burroughs. You won’t have a long reign, my boy--only a couple of minutes at most--that is if that second shed has the door I believe it has.”