Terence O'Rourke, Gentleman Adventurer
Celt, united in war and divided in love, came upon le petit Lemercier himself, standing by the rail, and talking in low tones with his familiar dæmon, Monsieur le Prince.
He looked around and nodded as they approached, continuing his conversation in a somewhat higher pitch, as a man will when improvising talk to cover some awkward contretemps.
O'Rourke remarked this, and nodded significantly to Chambret, whose eyes likewise showed his comprehension of the situation—that Monsieur le Prince had been caught in the act of poisoning the mind of the emperor against one or both of the allies.
"Here," invented the Lemercier, "will be our harbor—widened and deepened by dredging. Here, also, we will build long quays of stone and iron out into the ocean, making it an ideal port for the desert caravans, who shall here bring their gums, their ivory, their gold and rich stuffs, and here obtain their supplies, sold them at cost by a paternal government."
"Here, by all means," echoed the intriguing prince.
"And now, messieurs," continued the emperor, turning, "to our conference, since you are ready."
He looked toward O'Rourke, or rather toward the place where O'Rourke had been; but his lieutenant-general was gone, running up the deck as though fear itself were treading close upon his heels.
Chambret stood staring after him with mouth agape; in his surprise the emperor took a couple of steps after the hurrying man, then halted, amazed.
He saw the Irishman leap suddenly and fall upon the shoulders of one of the watch, whose carbine promptly slipped from his grasp, and splashed in the waters of the harbor.
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