Whereupon Miguel ran off, carrying the portfolio, and disappeared over the edge where the ladder was. So Gabriel da Cunha was on board the cruiser! Again Macalister spoke rapid Portuguese. Nanette was released, and the two men turned and went back to the house. She stood before me, with lowered head. Macalister raised his straw hat. The colours of the band looked highly effective in the moonlight. “Miss Nanette and Mr. Decies,” he said, “I bid you good-night.” He was not without a certain vulgar dignity. He followed his brace of ruffians to the dwelling. “Come, Nanette!” I urged. “It isn’t safe to delay.” But, as we climbed to the waiting cars, she spoke only twice. “They told me you had sent for me,” she said, “because Major O’Shea--was ill.” “What happened?” “Poor Tommy Clayton sat in front, and the man with me, who said he was a doctor, reached over and hit him with something. I screamed.” “Did he put his hand over your mouth to stop you?” She nodded. “Have they been unkind to you?” She shook her head. O’Shea waited until we gained the crest, then he got into his car and drove off. I followed, with an unusually dumb Nanette. She sneaked into Reid’s by the side entrance and went straight to her room. O’Shea was waiting for me in the cocktail bar. I entered very gloomily and he ordered me a double whisky and soda. “They will have some little difficulty in opening the portfolio, Decies,” he said, watching the bartender preparing our drinks. I stared at him. He was smiling! “What do you mean?” I demanded. “I mean that I took the precaution of filing one of the wards before I gave the key to you.” But, even then, I didn’t understand, and: “What for?” I asked. “Unnecessarily, as it fell out,” he replied. “But my idea was to gain time.” “To gain time!” “Yes. To enable us to get a good start before they forced the lock.” He slid a full glass along the counter in my direction, and: “Do you play poker?” he asked. “What the devil are you talking about?” “I was merely wondering if you did. That portfolio which you have been treasuring, Decies, contains several pages torn from an old copy of the _Sporting Times_. Yet neither you nor I have told a lie about it from start to finish! Chin-chin!” CHAPTER XVII. NANETTE IS CONFIDENTIAL “Did you ever hear of Adolf Zara?” said O’Shea. I shook my head blankly. “That’s the devil of it,” he murmured. “He works in the dark.” “Who is he?” He hesitated for a moment, then: “He is the immediate chief of those Communist gentlemen,” he replied, “whose activities have detained me so long in Madeira. One good thing I owe to him. I shall be returning to England with you in the morning.” “What!” I exclaimed gladly. “By the _Union Castle_?” “Yes.” He turned, staring at me in that coldly penetrating way which was so disconcerting and so misleading. “By a sheer coincidence, Mr. Zara is on board and I am instructed to look out for him.” “But the ship is full, O’Shea.”