Adventure stories; British -- Portugal -- Fiction; Lisbon (Portugal) -- Fiction; Love stories
He meant to play on my fears, and the writing materials ready to hand
showed me I had guessed his purpose. I was to be forced to write the
necessary instructions to the skipper.
Not a word was spoken by the men. As soon as they had finished with me
they went outside, leaving the door open and remained close to it.
Some few minutes passed, and then Barosa came into the room and closed
the door.
“Now, Mr. Donnington, you must understand what we require you to do,”
he said very peremptorily. “You have chosen to interfere in our plans,
and your interference has brought you to this pass. You are absolutely
in our power; and I tell you at once and frankly, that your life will
depend upon your decision. You will write the instructions to Captain
Bolton to go after the _Rampallo_, and take our friends to Oporto with
all speed. As soon as they are safe, you shall be set at liberty. Not
here in Lisbon; but you will go on board a steamer which will take you
straight back to England, and you will have to give your word of honour
not to speak a word of anything you know until you reach your country.
You will also order your captain to take your yacht straight to England
the moment that our friends are landed.”
“I shall do nothing of the sort, Dr. Barosa.”
“I think you will change your mind. The penalty of refusal will
be--death,” he replied, as sternly and impressively as he could speak.
“Very well. I refuse absolutely,” I said, in quite as firm a tone as
his. As a matter of fact, I did not believe in his threat. His object
was to get his friends at liberty with the least trouble and in the
quickest time, and he was bluffing me.
But if it was only bluff, he made it very realistic. “I shall give you
five minutes in which to do what I require, and at the end of that time
if you persist in your refusal you shall die. That I declare solemnly
on my honour.”
With that he called in a couple of men and ordered them to unfasten my
right hand and bind my left arm to my side, and as soon as they had
done so, he sent them out again.
“I will tell you what you do not seem to know. The attempt last night
on the king has become known, many arrests have been made, and we are
all in danger of the same fate. At present the men who have brought you
up here do not know the part you have played in betraying them; but
when they learn it you know enough of them to judge how they will feel
towards you, and what they will be eager to do in revenge. If on my
return in five minutes from now those instructions are not written, I
shall tell them everything.”
With that he went out, leaving me extremely perplexed and profoundly
uncomfortable. Every one knows the trying effect of suspense on one’s
nerves; and he had no doubt carefully calculated how it would act upon
mine.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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