CHAPTER VIII
HE COMES UPON THE RED-HEADED ONE
Thus it was plotted; and in such wise Colonel Terence O'Rourke came to cast his fortunes with those of that man concerning whom the Parisian boulevards were soon again to be gossiping—the youth who called himself Leopold the First, Emperor of the Sahara.
Their conference lasted into a late hour of the next morning; the conspirators breakfasted together, gathering up the loose ends of their scheme and giving and receiving final suggestions and instructions.
It had been settled that O'Rourke was to be Commander-in-chief, with the title of Lieutenant-General, of the forces presently to be assembled on the west coast of the Sahara Desert.
Monsieur le Prince de Grandlieu was to be chief adviser to his majesty-to-be; when the government was finally organized he was to be Premier.
Monsieur Valliant, who, it appeared, was a member of the French bar, received the appointment of chief justice of the Empire—when it should exist and the administration of justice should become necessary. In the meantime, he was to remain in Paris, and, with the help of associates (whose salaries, be sure, were to come out of the pocket of le petit Lemercier), formulate a Code Leopoldan; a judicial system which was expected to combine all the good points of existing legal codes and to contain none of their defects.
Messieurs Mouchon and D'Ervy were to rejoice respectively in the portfolios of commerce and agriculture—their absolute unfitness for the holding of any office whatsoever being to all appearances their greatest recommendation in the eyes of Lemercier.
It was understood that the two latter gentlemen were to collaborate, at first, in the work of enticing colonists to the promised land; and they also had charge of the purchase of all supplies for the new empire—a sinecure in which O'Rourke shrewdly scented large and gratifying "commissions" for the purses of the two secretaries.
But the Irishman had little time in which to criticise or to pass judgment upon his associates. He was ordered immediately to the south of France for the purpose of recruiting troops.
He had one week for his task; it was the sense of the conclave that forty picked men would be required for the work of annexing the sands of the Sahara, and in the judgment of O'Rourke this number was none too large, if the expedition was to lack that element of opera bouffe which he feared would prove one of its integral parts.
It was characteristic of the adventurer that, little faith as he had, on calm reflection, in the imperial scheme of Monsieur le petit Lemercier, he threw himself into his work heart and soul, determined that, should failure come to his employer, it would be through no fault of his.
He sent to his lodgings for a change of clothes, which was brought him while breakfasting. When through he took the first express to Marseilles, having been provided with funds and authorized to draw upon Lemercier should that become necessary.
Once in Marseilles, he set about his work with the systematic energy of a born organizer and old campaigner; he knew his ground thoroughly, had full powers to work as a free agent and to offer liberal inducements, the better to enlist the finest body of men that could be found either within or without the borders of the French Republic.
In such case he felt that success was assured from the start, so far as he personally was concerned; in five days he had his force complete—chiefly composed of seasoned veterans.
Ex-Spahis from the Soudan were there, and swart Turcos—lean, brown, lithe, and wiry little fellows, all of them ready to fight at the drop of a handkerchief; discharged artillery-men and marines of the republic; and, for leaven, a sprinkling of his own countrymen, together with a few adventurous spirits—mercenaries—of other lands: a villainous-looking gang, taken as a whole, fearing God nor man nor devil, fighters born, every mother's son, ready to fight for the highest bidder or for the pure love of battle; but, for the most part of them, brave and loyal to their masters for the time being, to be depended upon in any emergency.
Thirty-nine were they of the rank and file; over whom, as his lieutenant, with the rank of captain, he placed one Daniel Mahone—familiarly known as "Danny": a red-headed chunk of an Irish lad, according to O'Rourke's description, who had been the adventurer's body-servant in days gone by, when O'Rourke had been more prosperous.
Of late, they had been separated by stress of circumstance, which had forced Danny to strike out for the wherewithal to stay his own stomach, since he might no longer depend upon the bounty of the O'Rourke of Castle O'Rourke (under the very shadow of whose walls Danny had been born and brought up).
Red-headed he certainly was, this Danny, according to all accounts, and hot-headed, too; but cool and temperate in his element, which was time of danger, and no man ever served a master more loyally and devotedly than Danny had served and was destined to serve O'Rourke.
The adventurer had come upon him wandering disconsolately about on the docks of Marseilles, looking—and, it appeared, with ill success—for a berth on a Mediterranean coaster. And the lure of gold had been no more potent than the lure of devotion which brought him back into O'Rourke's service. The master took occasion quietly to congratulate himself upon the acquisition of this invaluable man; nor was his joy premature.
In small batches, the better to excite no comment, the mercenaries of the proposed "standing army" were shipped to Las Palmas, with instructions to await their commander in that town. O'Rourke trusted to the moral influence of Danny's temper and ready fists to keep the rabble in order and moderately sober until the time when he himself should go to Las Palmas to take charge, or until the coming of the Eirene, le petit Lemercier's colossal private steam yacht.
Upon this vessel, whereon were expected Lemercier, Grandlieu, Mouchon, and D'Ervy, O'Rourke's mercenaries were to embark for Cape Juby and the Wadi Saglat el Hamra, in the neighborhood of which was the rumored oasis that was to form the site of the future capital of the Saharan Empire.
About the first of June the last of his men were despatched to Las Palmas; a day or so later O'Rourke followed them, per packet.
He arrived at the Puerto de la Luz on a simmering night, and at once had himself conveyed to the city of Las Palmas itself.