Adventure stories; British -- Portugal -- Fiction; Lisbon (Portugal) -- Fiction; Love stories
Two men were in sight, one coming down the hill and the other up, and
lighting a cigarette as a pretext for loitering, Marco waited until
both men had passed and gave each of them a sharp searching look. As
soon as they were out of sight, he turned and hurried along the side
street.
I followed quickly, but when I reached the corner he had disappeared.
I had run him to earth; but which house he had entered I could not
tell, of course. I passed the mouth of the street and had a good look
at the houses. He had not had time to go more than fifty yards; and
within that distance there were only six houses, the two nearest of
which were detached and stood well apart from one another.
Keeping under the shadow of the buildings I walked the length of the
street and discovered that it had no outlet at the farther end. I
returned to the corner with the same caution, and then considered what
to do.
I felt at liberty to seek the help of the police if necessary. My
promise to Pia not to do so did not apply now, since my discovery was
not due to anything she had told me, but to the accidental meeting with
Marco.
At the same time, I did not wish to bring the police into it except
in the very last extremity. It was quite possible that they would
arrest every one in the house, including Miralda herself; and after my
terrible experiences of the previous night, the thought that she should
endure even for an hour the horrors of such a den of beastliness was
unendurable.
If it proved necessary for me to enter any house in search of Miralda,
it would be nothing short of sheer madness to do so alone; and in that
case I must have the help of the police.
But it might not come to that. Marco’s visit to the railway station and
his purchase of tickets was plain evidence that some one, presumably
Barosa, was meditating immediate flight from the city. But as there was
only the one outlet from the street, he could not leave without passing
me; and certainly he could not get Miralda away.
There was another consideration. The meditated flight suggested
that Miralda was not in any immediate danger. It might be better to
risk a little delay, therefore, rather than take a hasty step with
consequences which I might afterwards have bitter cause to regret.
Then I began to consider whether I could possibly find means of sending
a message to Bryant so as to bring him and the others to my assistance.
With them to help me, I should have no hesitation in entering the
house, if I could ascertain definitely in which Barosa was hiding.
I was puzzling over this when Marco came out of the second house, and
I noticed one little significant fact. In addition to the bag, he was
carrying an overcoat on his arm. This meant that he at any rate had
been staying in the house; and it decided me not to follow him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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