They were fortunate in securing sleeping berths between Paris and Bordeaux, and there was a restaurant car on the train to Irun. They waited an hour at the frontier station, and French blessed the intelligence of Manning, who had had their identification papers made available for Spain and Portugal as well as France.
French on his trip from Chamonix to Barcelona had been amazed by the illimitable extent of the earth, but his feelings of wonder on that occasion were as nothing compared to those he now experienced. The journey from Irun to Oporto was absolutely endless; at least he thought so as interminable mile succeeded interminable mile, while day turned into night and night more slowly turned back into day. It was cold, too, through the high tableland of Spain—bitterly cold, and the two men could not get the kind of meals they liked, nor could they sleep well in the somewhat jolting coaches. But all things come to an end, and at half-past one on the Monday, about an hour late, the train came finally to a stand in the Estacao Central of Oporto. There was plenty of time, and the travellers went straight to the Porto Hotel for a short rest before setting out to find the tramway to Leixoes.
French was immensely struck with the picturesque, old world city, nestling on the steep, hilly banks of the Douro, and he marvelled to feel quiver at every horse-hoof the great high level Dom Luez bridge, which throws its spidery steel arch in a single span of nearly 600 feet across the placid river flowing far beneath. Then after passing down the steeply-inclined streets to near the water’s edge, he and Carter boarded the tram and set off seawards along a road skirting the right bank of the stream.
In spite of the business which had brought them so far, both men gazed with intense interest at the unwonted sights they passed, the semitropical vegetation, the long, narrow, four-wheeled carts with their teams of oxen, the mole constructed across some three-quarters of the mouth of the Douro to increase the scour through the remainder, then, passing a stretch of sandhills, they finally reached the houses of Leixos, with lying below them the harbour contained within its two encircling stone piers, and, blessed sight, the Enoch lying at anchor therein.
They made a bargain with a dusky boatman for what seemed to French a fortune of reis, and ten minutes later they had ascended the ladder and were once more on the steamer’s deck.
XIX
French Propounds a Riddle
If Captain Davis experienced surprise on seeing French reappear at the door of his cabin, he gave no indication of his feelings.
“Good afternoon, Inspector,” he greeted him quietly. “Come aboard again? You should have stayed with us, you know.” He smiled quizzically. “It would have been much less tiring than going all that way round by land, and for the matter of that, a good deal cheaper. Found your criminals?”
“Well, I’ve not,” French answered slowly, “—yet. But I hope to soon. Captain, I’ve had a wire from the Yard that those people are on board after all.”
The Captain frowned.
“No doubt the Yard is a wonderfully efficient organisation,” he said gravely, “but when it comes to telling me who is or is not aboard my ship—well, I think that is a trifle, shall we say, thick? How do they profess to know?”
“I’ll tell you. I got a wire shortly after the ship left Havre on Saturday, and it said that one of the Liverpool detectives, Sergeant Mackay, was watching your ship before she sailed. He was looking out for a man also wanted for murder, not this Vane—a different person altogether. He saw the Vanes going on board, though, of course, he did not realise they also were wanted. But he saw them right enough, at least, he was able to convince the Yard as to their identity. Mackay waited until the ship sailed, and he states the Vanes did not go ashore. I know Mackay personally, and he is a most careful and accurate officer. I am satisfied that if he makes this statement it is true. Now, none of your people saw them go ashore, and with all due respect to you and your purser, the suggestion is that they’re still on board. The wire ended by instructing me to follow up the ship either here or to Lisbon, and investigate further.”
“You’ve certainly followed us up all right, but having overtaken us I should like to ask, if it is not an indiscreet question, what you propose to do next?”
French saw that if he was to retain the help of Captain Davis he would have to be careful how he answered.
“There, Captain, I was going to ask for your kind help, though I feel I have troubled you more than enough already. I’ll tell you what I was thinking over in the train. Suppose for argument’s sake the Yard is right, and that these people really are on board. It is obvious from your search that they’re not here in their own characters, therefore they must be posing as two other people. That, I take it, is what the people at the Yard had in mind also.”
“Well?”
“This is not such an unlikely supposition as it sounds. The woman is, or rather
