"Well?" inquired the voice of Curtis Warren, as the two conspirators tumbled into the dressing-room and Valvick locked the door. "Did you get it back all right? Did you…?" The warrior stared. Thoughtfully he pushed his helmet forward and scratched his wig. "What's the idea, Hank? You've still got the emerald! Look… "
Morgan nodded wearily. He glanced round. Uncle Jules was on the couch again, sprawled wide, while Peggy was trying to raise his head and insinuate a second dose of baking-soda under his twitching nose. There was a sharp plob as Mrs. Perrigord dexterously opened a bottle of champagne.
"You explain, Skipper." said Morgan, sadly juggling the emerald in his palm. "Suffice it to say that the game is up. U-up. Go on, Captain."
Valvick sketched out a rough outline. "You mean," said Warren, quakes and bubbles beginning to show under his ferocious moustache—"you mean the Bermondsey Terror is down there murdering the old sardine for stealing Hank's watch? Why, oh why wasn't I there to see it? Yee-ow! I'd have given anything to see it! Curse the rotten luck, why do I have to miss every good thing…?"
Tears had come into Peggy's eyes again.
"lint," she protested, "why, oh why can't you lay off the poor old captain? What have you got against him, anyway? Why must you go about assaulting the poor dear captain every time you get out of my sight? It isn't fair. It isn't just, after he said he almost had a daughter like me off Cape Hatteras. It—"
"Owful!" said Mrs. Perrigord, clucking her tongue reprovingly. "You owful, naughty boys, you. Have some champagne."
"Well, why hass he got to be dere, anyway?" demanded Valvick, hotly. "Ay tell you de old Barnacle call me a thief, and now ay am mad. Ay going to find out who iss at de bottom of diss business if ay haff to sving from de yard-arm lor it. And ay mean it."
"He was only trying to do his duty, Skipper," said Morgan. "We ought to have been warned. You heard what ho said this afternoon: he wanted to have the honour of nabbing Kyle for himself. He and the second officer were probably there searching the cabin when they heard us coming. They ducked into the bathroom and when they opened the door and saw us they thought… well, what would you have thought? Skipper, it's no go. They'll be Having a search party out for us in five minutes. The only thing to do is to go to Whistler, try to explain, and take our medicine. God knows what they'll do to us; plenty, I should think. But… there you are."
Valvick brought his arm down in a mighty gesture. "Ay will not! Ay am mad now, and ay will not! Barnacle iss not going to put me in de brig like a drunken A.B. while diss crook laughs ha-ha. We are going to hide somewhere, dat iss what, so he don't catch us, and den—"
"What's the good of that?" Morgan wanted to know. "Calm yourself, Skipper. Even if we could hide, which I doubt, what good would it do? We land day after tomorrow, and they'd be bound to catch us. We couldn't stay on the ship… "
"Haff you forgotten dat de New York detective iss coming aboard at Southampton to identify diss crook, eh?"
"Yes, but—"
"And de charge we got to avoid iss stealing de emerald… "
"With others, including Curt's jail-break, assault and battery of Woodcock; to say nothing of—"
"Bah! What iss Woodock? All you got to do iss promise him de bug-powder testimonial and he be all right. As for de odders, what iss dey? When dat detective point out de right man, do you t'ink Whistler going to get away wit' accusing us of stealing? Ay bet you not. Dey only t'ink he iss cuckoo, and den we threaten to tell de newspapers about dat bug-powder gun and dey will giff him de bird something hawful if he open his mouth about de rest! Coroosh! It iss easy. Ay will not be put in dat brig! Dat iss my last word. 'For God. For de cause! For de Church! For de laws!' Liberty for ever, hooray! Are you wit' me, Mr. Warren?"
"Man, you never said a truer word!" said the Moorish warrior, and gripped his hand. "We'll show 'em, we will! Let 'em try to put me back in that brig!" He flourished his scimitar. Peggy rushed into his arms, beaming through* her tears. He burst into song.
"May the serr-vice united ne-'er se-ver, But hold to its co-oolours so true!"
sang the Moorish warrior, enthusiastically, and Valvick took it up,
"Theee ar-my and naaa-avee forever— Three cheers for the red — white — and blue!"
"Sh-h!" howled Morgan as the three of them clasped hands in a dramatic gesture. "All right! Have it your way. If you must do it, I suppose I can be as mad as anybody else. Lead on; I'll follow… The point is, where do you propose to hide?… Yes, thanks, Mrs. Perrigord, I will have some champagne."
Peggy slapped her hands together. "I've got it! I've got it! I know where you'll hide so they won't put you in that nasty brig. You'll hide with the marionettes."
"With the marionettes?"
"Of course, silly! Listen! The marionettes have a cabin of I heir own, haven't they? Adjoining Uncle Jules's, isn't It? And the stewards are all afraid to go in there, aren't they? And you have three uniforms like the marionettes, haven't you, and false whiskers? And food can be passed In to you from Uncle Jules's cabin, can't it? And if they did look in they'd only see marionettes lying in the berth. Hurling, it's wonderful and it'll work, too…"
"I'm glad to hear that," said Morgan. "Without wishing to be a spoil-sport, it would damp my ardour considerably If I had to hang on a hook all day and then found it didn't work. Besides, I think enough strain has already been put on Captain Whistler's reason without having a marionette sneeze in his face when he looked into the cabin. You're mad, Peggy. Besides, how can we get away with it? We're wasting time. The highbrows will be roaring down on this cabin in a minute, asking if Uncle Jules is ready to begin performing, and then we're discovered. This cabin is probably surrounded at the moment, and we can't even get to our hideaway. I also think it probable that a searching-party would feel considerable curiosity concerning three full-panoplied Moorish warriors seen strolling arm in arm down C deck."
Peggy pointed her finger at him.
"No, we're not caught, either! Because you three will climb into those clothes this minute, and we'll put on the whole performance ourselves. They won't know you in disguise, and you can help wheel the marionettes back to the cabin and stay there."
There was a silence. Then Morgan got up, with his head In his hands, and danced helplessly.
"Baby, the idea is a knockout!" breathed Warren. "But how are we going to work it? I can stand in front of the stage with a battle-axe right enough; but what about the rest of it? I can't even work those marionettes, to say nothing of what they say… "
"Listen to me. Quick, champagne, somebody!" She snatched a bottle from the beaming Mrs. Perrigord, and alter a moment, brilliant with inspiration, she continued: "We'll save Uncle Jules's bacon yet. To begin with, there isn't a real Frenchman aboard this ship, with the exception of Uncle Jules and Abdul. The audience will be mostly kids, or else people with only a smattering of French, out to see the fighting…"
"What about Perrigord?" inquired Warren.
"I'm not forgetting him, darling. That's where Hank comes in. Hank will be the Emperor Charlemagne and also the crafty Banhambra, Sultan of the Moors… "
"Good for you, old man!" applauded Warren, radiating kindliness and slapping the Emperor Charlemagne on the back.