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  [Illustration: "'STOP!'"]




     THE

     KIDNAPPED PRESIDENT

     BY

     GUY BOOTHBY

     AUTHOR OF

     'DR. NIKOLA,' 'A BID FOR FORTUNE,' 'THE BEAUTIFUL WHITE DEVIL,'
     ETC.

     ILLUSTRATIONS BY STANLEY L. WOOD

     _LONDON_

     WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED

     NEW YORK AND MELBOURNE

     1902




'THE KIDNAPPED PRESIDENT'




CHAPTER I


I suppose to every man, at some period in his life, there comes some
adventure upon which, in after life, he is destined to look back with
a feeling that is very near akin to astonishment. Somebody has said
that adventures are to the adventurous. In my case I must confess that
I do not see how the remark applies. I was certainly fourteen years at
sea, but in all that time, beyond having once fallen overboard in
Table Bay, and, of course, the great business of which it is the
purpose of this book to tell you, I cannot remember any circumstance
that I could dignify with the title of an adventure. The sailor's
calling in these times of giant steamships is so vastly different from
what it was in the old days of sailing ships and long voyages that,
with the most ordinary luck, a man might work his way up the ratlines
from apprentice to skipper with little less danger than would be met
with in a London merchant's office. Though I was not aware of it,
however, I was destined to have an adventure, stirring enough to
satisfy the most daring, before my seafaring life came to an end.

How well I remember the day on which I was appointed fourth officer of
the ocean liner _Pernambuco_, running from London to South America. I
should here remark that I held a second officer's certificate, but I
was, nevertheless, glad enough to take what I could get, in the hope
of being able to work my way up to something better. It was not a bad
rise, when all was said and done, to leave a ramshackle old tub of a
tramp for the comparatively luxurious life of a mail boat; much
jollier merely to run out to the Argentine and back, instead of
dodging at a snail's pace from port to port all round the world. Then
again there was the question of society. It was pleasanter in every
respect to have pretty girls to flirt with on deck, and to sit beside
one at meals, than to have no one to talk to save a captain who was in
an intoxicated state five days out of seven, a grumpy old chief mate,
and a Scotch engineer, who could recite anything Burns ever wrote,
backwards or forwards, as you might choose to ask him for it. When I
had been six months on board the _Pernambuco_, I was made third
officer; at the end of the year I signed my name on the pay-sheet as
second. Eventually I got my Master's Certificate, and became chief
officer. Now everybody knows, or ought to know, that the duties of
chief officer on board a big liner, and, for the matter of that, on
any other boat, are as onerous as they are varied. In the first place,
he is the chief executive officer of the ship, and is held
responsible, not only for its appearance, but also for the proper
working of the crew. It is a position that requires consummate tact.
He must know when to see things and when not to see them, must be able
to please the passengers, and yet protect the interests of his owners,
must, and this is not the least important fact, be able to keep his
men constantly employed, yet not earn for himself the reputation of
being too hard a task-master. Finally, he has to see that all the
credit for what he does is not appropriated by himself, but goes to
increase the _kudos_ of his commanding officer. If the latter is a
gentleman, and can appreciate his officers' endeavours at their real
value, matters will in all probability go smoothly; on the other hand,
however, if the captain is a bully, then the chief officer is likely
to wish himself elsewhere, or at least that he was the holder of some
other rank. This was my case on my last and most memorable voyage in
the service of a particular Company that every one knows, but which,
for various reasons, shall be nameless.

I had never met Captain Harveston until he joined us in dock on the
day previous to sailing, but I had heard some scarcely complimentary
remarks about him from men who had sailed with him. I must confess,
therefore, that I was prepared to dislike him. In appearance he was as
unlike a sailor as a man could well be, was a great dandy in his
dress, and evidently looked upon himself as an undoubted lady-killer.
So far as I was concerned, he had hardly set foot on the vessel before
he commenced finding fault. A ship in dock, before the passengers come
aboard, and while the thousand and one preparations are being made for
a voyage, is seldom an example of tidiness. Surely a skipper, who had
been at sea for thirty years, must have realized this; for some
reason, however, best known to himself, it pleased Captain Harveston
to inaugurate our acquaintance by telling me that he liked a "<DW74> and
span ship," and that he judged his officers by what he saw of their
work.

"You shall have nothing to complain of as soon as I get the workmen
out, sir," I replied, a bit nettled at being called over the coals
upon such a trumpery matter.

"I trust I shall not," he answered superciliously, and then strutted
down the bridge to his own cabin, which was just abaft the
chart-room.

As it turned out, the Isle of Wight was scarcely astern before the
trouble began. Young Herberts, our second officer, was the first to
get a wigging, and Harrison, the fourth, quickly followed suit. I felt
sure my time would not be long in coming, and I was not wrong. On the
second day out, and during my watch below, I was talking to the purser
in his cabin, when the fourth officer appeared to inform me that the
captain wished to see me on the promenade deck. Thither I made my way,
to find him seated there with a number of lady passengers round him.

"Surely he is not going to be nasty before these ladies," I said to
myself as I approached him.

I discovered, however, that this was exactly what he was going to do.

"Mr. Helmsworth," he began, "I am told that you have refused the
passengers the use of the bull-board."

"Indeed, sir, I have not," I replied. "I informed one of the gentlemen
who spoke to me about it that I would have it brought up directly we
were clear of the Channel. As a rule we never produce it until we're
out of the Bay. I had Captain Pomeroy's instructions to that effect."

"I am captain of this vessel now," he returned. "Please see that the
board is brought on deck at once. I must ask you for the future to do
all that lies in your power to promote the pleasure of the passengers.
It is a duty I have a right to expect of my officers."

"Very good, sir," I answered and walked away.

From that day forward I saw that my service under Captain Harveston
was likely to be a short one, and, indeed, by the time we reached
Buenos Ayres, I felt as if I could throw up my appointment altogether.
He was never satisfied, never pleased, and did nothing but grumble and
find fault from morning until night.

After the usual fortnight's stay at the capital of the Argentine, we
commenced our homeward voyage. Our first port of call was Rio, where
Harveston and the third officer came to loggerheads. By this time the
whole ship's company had taken his measure, and I fancy he must have
known it. Being of a petty disposition, he attributed this to me, and
accordingly laid himself out to make my life aboard as disagreeable as
it was possible for him to do. How bitterly I regretted the loss of my
old skipper, who had been kindness and consideration itself, I must
leave you to imagine.

And now I must turn from a narration of my own misfortunes during
that miserable voyage to give you a description of a man, whose
personality is destined to play such an important part in my
narrative. He joined us at Rio, and was one of the last passengers to
come aboard. He was a Spaniard, and, as could be seen at a glance, a
well-bred one at that. He called himself Don Guzman de Silvestre. He
was very tall; I should say some inches over six feet, with the
darkest of dark eyes and hair, aquiline features, and a small pointed
beard, that he had a habit of stroking when thinking. Taken
altogether, a more romantic personality could scarcely be imagined,
and as he came up the gangway, I told myself that he was the best
figure of a man I had seen for some considerable time. When he asked
me at what hour we should sail, I noticed that he spoke English
perfectly, and in a musical voice that was very pleasant to listen to.
Before we had been many days at sea, he and I had had several talks
upon all sorts of subjects, considerably to Captain Harveston's
annoyance, for the latter did not approve of his officers being on
anything like friendly terms with the passengers. Having no desire to
quarrel with my chief, I endeavoured, as far as possible, to keep out
of his way, but for some reason this only had the effect of incensing
him more against me.

We were a full ship on the homeward voyage, and, as we generally did
a lot of painting between Barbadoes and Madeira, I found my time
pretty well taken up. It was in connection with this painting that the
climax came. We had left the West Indies behind us, and at the time
were steering a straight course for Madeira. The men, when the
incident I am about to describe happened, were at work on the port
rails of the promenade deck. One of them, who had been outside the
rail, climbed over, pot in hand, to obey an order I had given him. At
the moment that he did so, the long Atlantic swell caused the vessel
to give a big roll, and before he could save himself, he was flying
across the deck towards a chair in which a lady was seated. They came
into violent collision, with the result that the pot of white paint
was deposited in her lap. I hastened to her assistance, and did all
that was possible at the moment to remedy the mishap. Fortunately for
the man, who was overcome by the magnitude of the catastrophe, she
took the accident in excellent part.

"You must not blame the man," she said to me. "It was not his fault. I
shall have to sue the ocean for damages."

Then with a laugh she went below to change her attire.

As ill luck would have it, just after she had disappeared, the
skipper emerged from the companion, and saw the splashes of paint.

"What's the meaning of this, sir?" he asked, turning on me angrily.

"One of the men met with an accident, sir," I replied. "The roll of
the ship caused him to upset the paint-pot."

"You should not put that class of fellow to do such work," he
returned, oblivious to the fact that he was committing the
unpardonable sin of admonishing an officer before the men. "You seem
to have no discrimination at all, Mr. Helmsworth."

With that he walked away, leaving me to chew my cud of humiliation in
silence. After luncheon I received an order to go to the captain's
cabin. I could see that I was in for more trouble, but could not guess
what. One thing was very evident; he was in a towering rage.

"How is it, Mr. Helmsworth," he began, when I had entered the cabin
and had closed the door, "that you deliberately kept things from me
this morning that it was your duty to tell me?"

"I am not aware that I have kept anything back from you, sir," I
replied, as civilly as I knew how, for I had no desire to lose my
temper. "If it is with regard to the tiller of the port quarter
boat----"

"It has nothing whatever to do with the port quarter boat," he
answered savagely. "I want to know how it was that you did not tell me
about that lady's dress being spoilt this morning. You should have
reported the matter to me. Had it not been for my steward, I should
have known nothing whatsoever about it."

"I did not think it worth while to trouble you with it, sir," I
replied. "It was a pure accident, and Miss Burgess forgave the man,
and admitted that he was not to blame."

"Accident or no accident," he retorted, "you should have informed me
of the circumstance. I consider you sadly wanting in your duty, Mr.
Helmsworth. Of late, your manner has been most disrespectful to me,
and I tell you to your face, sir, that your ship is a disgrace to any
chief officer."

"I am sorry you should say that," I answered, endeavouring to keep my
temper; "I have always had the reputation of turning my ship out well.
If you will point out anything that is wrong, I will at once have it
rectified."

"Don't bandy words with me, sir," he stormed. "I am not used to it
from my officers. I repeat that your ship is a disgrace to any chief
officer, and I shall take care that the matter is duly reported to the
Board as soon as we reach London."

"Perhaps you will be good enough to tell me what you consider wrong,
sir?"

"Everything," he answered. "I thought yesterday I pointed out to you a
hole in the after awning."

"You did, sir, and it has been repaired. I put the sail-maker on to it
at once."

He rose from his chair with a look of triumph on his face.

"Kindly step aft with me," he said, "and let us examine it for
ourselves."

Feeling confident that what I had said was correct, I gladly
accompanied him, but to my horror, when we reached the place in
question, there was the rent gaping at us without a stitch in it.

"I regret exceedingly that you should consider it necessary to cover
your negligence by telling me what is not true," he said in a voice so
loud that some of the second-class passengers could hear it.

This was more than I could swallow.

"I'll not be called a liar by you, Captain Harveston, or by any man
living," I retorted, feeling that I would have given something to have
been able to have knocked him down. "If you will send for the
sail-maker, he will inform you that I gave him orders to do it this
morning. It is no fault of mine that he has neglected his duty."

"It is the fault of no one else, sir," returned the captain. "If you
kept the men up to their work, this would not have been left undone. I
shall be careful to enter this occurrence in the log-book."

So saying he stalked majestically away, and I went in search of the
sail-maker. The man, it appeared, had intended doing the work, but had
been called away to something else, and had forgotten it. After that,
I returned to my own cabin, and sat down to think the matter over.
There could be no sort of doubt that I was in an exceedingly
unenviable position. I could quite see that if Harveston reported me,
the Board would be likely to believe his version of the story, and
even if they did not consider me quite as negligent as he was
endeavouring to make me, they would probably argue that I was not all
I might be, on the basis that there can be no smoke without fire.
Whatever else might be said, a reputation for slovenliness and
untruthfulness would be scarcely likely to help me in my career. From
that day forward matters went from bad to worse. It seemed impossible
for me to do right, however hard I might try. What was more annoying,
I began to feel that, not content with disliking me himself, the
captain was endeavouring to set the passengers against me also.

During the run across the Atlantic I had, as I have said, several
long talks with Don Guzman de Silvestre. The man interested me
immensely. What his profession was I could not ascertain, but from
numberless little remarks he let fall, I gathered that he was the
possessor of considerable wealth. Certainly he had seen a variety of
strange life. Were it not that he narrated his adventures with an air
of truth that left no room for doubt, it would have been impossible to
have believed him. He had seen fighting in Mexico, in Nicaragua, in
Brazil, and with Balmaceda in Chili.

"I suppose in South America there will be Revolutions until the end of
Time," I remarked one evening, as we sat talking together in my cabin.

"I should say it is more than likely," he answered, taking his cigar
from his mouth and holding it between his long, slim fingers. "If you
take specimens of all the most excitable races in the world and graft
them on stock even more excitable than themselves, what can you
expect? In such countries Might must always be Right, and the weakest
will go to the wall."

"I shouldn't care much about being President in that description of
place," I returned. "It's a case of being in power and popular to-day,
unpopular and assassinated to-morrow."

"There is certainly a large amount of risk in this," the Don replied
meditatively. "And yet men are always to be found desirous