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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Princess Galva, by David Whitelaw
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Princess Galva
+       A Romance
+
+Author: David Whitelaw
+
+Release Date: October 25, 2010 [EBook #34130]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRINCESS GALVA ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Al Haines
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Cover art]
+
+
+
+
+[Frontispiece: Princess Galva]
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+PRINCESS GALVA
+
+
+_A ROMANCE_
+
+
+
+BY
+
+DAVID WHITELAW
+
+AUTHOR OF "THE GANG," "MOON OF VALLEYS," ETC.
+
+
+
+
+"Romance is what is round the next bend of the road and across the
+horizon.  Yesterday is romantic and so is to-morrow."--_Professor
+Raleigh, at the London Institution_.
+
+
+
+
+TORONTO
+
+THE COPP CLARKE CO. LIMITED
+
+1911
+
+
+
+
+TO
+
+WILLIAM LE QUEUX
+
+IN FRIENDSHIP
+
+
+_Brighton, 1910._
+
+
+
+
+_BY THE SAME AUTHOR_
+
+
+MOON OF VALLEYS
+
+"A novel of absorbing interest."--_Truth_.
+
+"A live story."--_Sportsman_.
+
+"A thrilling story."--_Daily Mirror_.
+
+"Emphatically a lively book."--_Glasgow News_.
+
+
+THE GANG
+
+"It is remarkable that with so many incidents packed into the book the
+author has managed to keep his head."--_Daily Telegraph_.
+
+"Breaks new ground in fiction."--_Standard_.
+
+"Essentially readable."--_Winning Post_.
+
+"A merry tale ... amazing fertility of invention."--_Daily Express_.
+
+"Deserves the encouragement of a large success."--_Morning Leader_.
+
+
+MAC STODGER'S AFFINITY
+
+"Thoroughly and genuinely funny."--_Sporting Life_.
+
+"An exceedingly amusing story."--_Dundee Advertiser_.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+   CHAP.
+
+      I  TOO OLD AT FORTY
+     II  AT NO. 8, BELITHA VILLAS
+    III  BORROWED PLUMAGE
+     IV  A LETTER FROM NEW YORK
+      V  AN ECHO OF A TRAGEDY AND THE DRAINAGE OF A COTTAGE
+     VI  AT THE UNION HOTEL, PENZANCE
+    VII  TREMOOR
+   VIII  THE PANIC OF A CARPET MANUFACTURER
+     IX  DUCAL ATTENTIONS
+      X  THREE HANDS AT POKER
+     XI  THE LIEUTENANT HONOURS GALVA
+    XII  IN THE CATHEDRAL AT CORBO
+   XIII  THE PLOT
+    XIV  AT CASA LUZO
+     XV  EDWARD SHOOTS AN ARROW INTO THE AIR
+    XVI  THE GENTLEMAN IN THE TWEED SUIT
+   XVII  MR. JASPER JARMAN RELIEVES HIS MIND
+  XVIII  THE CAPTIVE
+    XIX  TERESA
+     XX  THE BOAT FROM THE MAINLAND
+    XXI  EDWARD SEES COMPLICATIONS
+   XXII  THE HEART OF GALVA
+  XXIII  THE PASSING GUN
+   XXIV  A BULLET IN THE GROUNDS
+    XXV  IN THE DEATH CHAMBER
+   XXVI  THE FUGITIVE
+  XXVII  THE IMPOSTOR
+ XXVIII  EDWARD DEPARTS
+   XXIX  BLOOMSBURY
+    XXX  REVENGE
+   XXXI  A FINAL NOTE BY EDWARD POVEY
+
+
+
+
+THE PRINCESS GALVA
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+TOO OLD AT FORTY
+
+The waning light of an October evening shone on the reflectors outside
+the windows of the basement counting-house, and the clerk at the corner
+desk could barely discern that the clock on the green painted dusty
+wall pointed to a quarter to six.
+
+In fifteen minutes Edward Povey's twenty-two years of devoted service
+in the interests of Messrs. Kyser, Schultz & Company would come to an
+end, and the desk in the corner to which he had been promoted fifteen
+years ago would by the immutable law of evolution pass into the
+possession of his junior.  Edward noticed this junior now and the
+glances which that young man cast at the scratched and ink-stained slab
+of mahogany that was to constitute his kingdom of the morrow.  Edward
+wondered dully whether the young man was as full of hope as he himself
+had been.  Perhaps he was waiting to be married even as he, Edward, had
+waited fifteen years ago.  In those days the era of the Young Man had
+not been so pronounced as it is to-day, and it had been death that had
+removed his predecessor.
+
+Even now he could remember the chastened sorrow with which he mounted
+the high stool of his desire.  He had propped open the desk and
+collected together the belongings of the deceased clerk, and posted
+them with a little note of sympathy to his widow.  Some had seemed too
+trivial to send, and of these a few still remained, a battered
+soap-box, a small square of unframed looking-glass, its red back
+scratched and scored.  These, together with the great ebony ruler, had
+now outlasted his own reign and would pass to the new-comer.
+
+And now the desk was propped open again, and it was his own belongings
+that he was collecting into a heap.  The well-known odour of the wood
+came to his nostrils and he sighed a little.  From shadowy and dusty
+corners he got together the little trifles that had been part and
+parcel of his life and arranged them in a neat pile beside him.
+
+"If there's anything I can do for you----" began the junior, brushing
+his hair in front of a little mirror and settling his purple tie
+nervously.
+
+"No, Joynings; nothing, I thank you.  I'm leaving you old Brown's
+looking-glass and soap-box--they're fixtures, and go with the position."
+
+The junior tittered a little at this and pulled down the front of his
+fancy waistcoat, lit a cigarette, and took a pair of roller-skates from
+the drawer of his desk.  He came over and held out his hand.
+
+"Right, then I'll be popping along--good luck, old man, and all that.
+You'll drop into something soon.  If I hear of anything----"
+
+"Oh, I'll be all right," said Edward Povey.
+
+There is always a certain fascination in change and elation in abnormal
+conditions, even if those conditions constitute a misfortune.  Edward
+Povey was surprised at his inner feelings as he left the portals of
+Messrs. Kyser, Schultz & Company's offices.  In his own mind he knew
+that he ought to be feeling depressed; but the fact remained that he
+was feeling nothing of the kind, indeed he felt happier than he had
+done for the past twenty-two years, except perhaps on that one evening
+fifteen years ago.  Then he had been hurrying out to a small house in a
+mean street in Barnsbury, to a little woman who was waiting for the
+news that would enable her to become the wife of the man who brought
+it.  Now he was going to another little house in a mean street, in
+Clapham this time, to the same woman, but with how different tidings
+and how differently they would be received.  Fifteen years ago the
+future had looked very bright to the limited vision of Mr. Edward
+Povey.  He had left the office after his marriage with a light step and
+hurried across the bridge that would lead him to the villa he had
+taken.  As the years passed, the light step had become a sedate walk,
+and now it was hard to recognize in the little bowed figure that
+shuffled each evening across London Bridge the Edward Povey of other
+days.
+
+But to-night, curiously enough, the step was not shuffling and the
+little iron-grey head was more erect.  The blow that had fallen when
+Mr. Schultz had given him the buff envelope which contained his salary
+and his _conge_ had been deadening, and the feeling had numbed him for
+the whole day.  Then had come the inevitable reaction, the need for
+movement, for effort, and the heart of Edward Povey was responding
+nobly to the call, the heart that had lain dormant since the early days
+of his marriage.
+
+For Charlotte Povey, estimable woman, cherished fondly the idea that
+for fifteen years she had been moulding the life, the destinies, and
+the character of her husband, and he, for the sake of peace, had given
+himself unresistingly to the potter's thumb.  Charlotte's method,
+however, left much to be desired.  With the laudable object of rousing
+the soul of Edward to further action and endeavour, she let not a day
+pass without comparing, much to his disparagement, his actions and even
+his appearance with other men of their acquaintance.
+
+But instead of this having the desired effect, Edward had gradually
+come to believe it all; it had been so consistently impressed upon him
+that he was a poor sort of a chap anyway, and the inevitable result
+was--the envelope presented to him that morning by Mr. Schultz.
+
+And now, on this calm autumn evening the chains of fifteen years fell
+from him and the spirit of Edward Povey underwent a change.  He began
+to think that it was a good, full world--a world in which there were
+more things and higher possibilities than the evil-smelling
+counting-house of Kyser, Schultz & Company.  He told himself that he
+had wasted nearly a quarter of a century.
+
+The city was settling to quietude under a pall of smoky opal.  The
+warehouses and buildings stood out gaunt and grey.  The river flowing
+under the railway arches up-stream was splashed with the glory of the
+setting sun, little elusive reflections showing blood-red on the muddy
+water.  Edward had crossed London Bridge for many years, but he did not
+remember ever having seen a sunset there.
+
+Clapham!  The world was bigger than Clapham.--Forty years of age!  Why,
+it was the prime of a man's life, rather before the prime, in fact.
+Edward stopped, there was no hurry to-night, and leant over the parapet
+of the bridge.  Below him, on the wharf, they were unloading a tramp
+steamer of boxes of fruit.  The men swarming like ants up the long
+gangways were carrying on their backs light crates.  One of these boxes
+had come apart and lay on the grimy deck shedding a little pool of
+golden oranges.  The clatter of winches, the jangling of cranes, all
+served to make up a picture of life and movement that appealed strongly
+to the man who was leaning over the stone balustrade.  He could read
+the name on the stern of the boat, "_Isabella--Barcelona_."
+
+There were other boats too, and barges, huddling together as though for
+warmth like little chickens in an incubator.  The bascules of the Tower
+Bridge, showing dimly in the haze, were being raised to let a
+white-funneled steamer that was cautiously sidling out into mid-stream
+slip down to the sea.  Two men were working vigorously with long poles,
+guiding a barge laden with straw out of her way.  Edward Povey watched
+her, telling himself that in a few hours she would be making her way
+down Channel or breasting the waves in the North Sea.  Later she would
+be in some palm-fringed Southern port, or perhaps amid the romantic
+islands and fjords of the North.
+
+He wished that he, too, could go abroad, that he too could slide out of
+London on the dingy bosom of Father Thames.  He longed to breathe the
+large airs of the ocean, to feel the sting of the salt spray, and to
+reach the places blazoned so bravely forth in gold letters upon the
+sterns below him.  Barcelona, for instance, spoke of sunny skies and
+indolence and romance, and he felt a great pity for the surging masses
+of which he had so lately been one, who pushed past him with never a
+glance for the river or the sunset, or for the _Isabella_ from
+Barcelona.
+
+A light tap on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie, to see the
+genial face of Mr. Kyser, the other partner of the firm to whom he had
+been correspondence clerk for so many years.  Edward had never had much
+to do with the junior partner, but what small relations they had had
+seemed to be touched with more humanity than was the case with Mr.
+Schultz.
+
+"----and so you are leaving us, Mr. Povey?" Kyser was saying.
+
+"Yes, sir, I----"
+
+"Well, Povey, I'm sorry, yes, I'm sorry; but there, I can't interfere
+with what Mr. Schultz does, it's his department, you know, but I didn't
+want to pass you without a handshake.  Let me see, you live at Clapham,
+don't you?"
+
+Edward Povey nodded.
+
+"We'll get a taxi, then--or, better still, come and have a chop with
+me--I want a word with you."
+
+Edward was delighted.  Surely things were far better than they had been
+for a quarter of a century.  Yesterday this same man would have passed
+him with perhaps a nod, perhaps not even that.
+
+The change that had come over Edward since his release from bondage was
+evidently being sustained by events.  For fifteen years he had passed
+the spacious grill-room in Gracechurch Street, with its noble array of
+chops and parsley in the window, in which he now found himself, on his
+way to the little eating-house up the court where he had taken his
+modest midday meal of sandwiches and stout.  There was a sense of
+well-being about his present surroundings that gave him a feeling as
+though he had set foot in a new world and that he meant to remain in
+it.  The snowy linen, the silver and glass, the little green-curtained
+alcoves, the obsequious waiters, the flickering and hissing of the
+grill at the further end of the room, presided over by the white-clad
+chef, all played their part in the awakening of Edward Povey.
+
+"It's not much that I wanted to speak to you about, Povey, but I
+thought you might help me.  You'll be looking round for another place,
+I suppose, but if you can find time to run out to Bushey now and again,
+you'll be obliging me--personally."
+
+Edward Povey expressed his willingness to do all that lay in his power.
+
+"It's only to have a look at my little cottage there, Povey; I've been
+living there on and off, and now I'm off to Switzerland.  My man goes
+with me, so I want you to run out and see that things are all right.
+I'll give you the key.  Any letters that come you can keep for me until
+my return.  I've got a few decent pictures at the cottage and some old
+silver that I'm anxious not to leave altogether unattended.  Can I
+count on you?"
+
+Edward repeated his assurances, but a sense of disappointment had come
+over him as Kyser had been speaking.  The adventure was not panning out
+as he had hoped.  At the same time, he told himself that he would be
+paid for his services, perhaps liberally, and it might prevent him
+having to touch the little nest-egg in the Post Office Savings Bank.
+
+When Edward parted with his late employer and left the grill-room it
+was with the key of Adderbury Cottage, Bushey Heath, in his pocket, and
+rather a feeling of resentment against Mr. Kyser and his firm, who did
+not hesitate to use a servant of twenty-two years' standing as a mere
+caretaker.
+
+And resentment was a dangerous thing in the brain of the new Edward
+Povey.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+AT NO. 8, BELITHA VILLAS
+
+It was nine o'clock when Edward Povey pushed open the little iron gate
+of No. 8, Belitha Villas, Clapham, thereby announcing his return to the
+other eleven villas in the same row.  For the twelve little iron gates
+of Belitha Villas had each its own peculiar squeak and clang, a fact
+that added considerably to the scandal-mongering of the little
+community, and had caused a certain old reprobate at No. 3 to make
+liberal use of the oil-can.
+
+The master of No. 8 let himself in with his latch-key, and groping his
+way down the dark and narrow passage pushed open the dining-room door.
+The room was in darkness save for a little evil-smelling oil-lamp which
+shed a dismal radiance upon a cloth spread half across the table.  An
+unsympathetic slab of red topside of beef glared aggressively from a
+dish in which the gravy had set to an unhealthy-looking fat-ringed
+jelly.  This, flanked by the remains of a cottage loaf and a glass of
+ale, constituted the meal that Charlotte had left for the refreshment
+of her lord and master.  The ale had long been drawn, and stood dead
+and listless, showing a surface destitute of foam.  Edward took one
+sip, then sat down and lit a cigarette.
+
+His gaze wandered round the little room, the corners of which were in a
+dingy shadow, and contrasted it in his mind with the grill-room of the
+Blue Dragon.  And then his eye lighted upon a letter propped up against
+the brass lamp and put there evidently so that it should attract his
+early attention.  He took it up and read it through, then with a few
+uncomplimentary remarks he thrust it into his pocket and, taking up the
+lamp, made his way up-stairs.  Another moment and he was back again,
+holding the lamp above his head and searching the dim corners of the
+room.
+
+A large unwieldy form that had been stretched upon a sofa in the shadow
+of the window recess roused itself and sat upright.  It was clad in a
+shabby dressing-gown of some dark material and it had a stern eye.
+
+"You're late, Edward."
+
+"Yes, my dear, I am a little, I think.  I thought you were up-stairs or
+had run along to have a chat with Mrs. Oakley.  I didn't see you in the
+shadow there."
+
+"I saw _you_, Edward, and I saw you read the letter, and I--I heard
+what you called uncle, and I am not in the habit of running along and
+having a chat with my neighbours in the middle of the night."
+
+"Well, my dear woman, I didn't know you were there when I read his
+letter or I wouldn't have said it,--and it's only nine o'clock."
+
+"That's enough, Edward; you've said what you've said.  I'm astonished,
+but it can't be mended; they say men speak their true thoughts when
+they're in drink."
+
+"I beg your pardon, Charlotte, I----"
+
+"I'm not angry, Edward, but don't bang the lamp down like that, you'll
+splash the oil out.  I repeat I'm not angry, only sorry.  When I see a
+man come home at this hour and turn up his nose at a glass of good
+honest ale I know what it means.  But that doesn't excuse what you said
+about uncle."
+
+"Well, he's a rotten nuisance.  I know as well as you do that we can't
+afford to upset the old chap, but he shouldn't come down on us like
+this, especially----"
+
+"Especially what----?"
+
+"----especially when it's--it's not convenient.  The fact is,
+Charlotte, we'll have to draw in our horns a bit.  I've got the sack,
+my dear, the push--the bullet--after twenty-two years--curse 'em."
+
+"Edward, you forget you're speaking to me."
+
+"Oh, no, I don't, my dear.  I'm talking exactly how I feel.  I'll get
+even with 'em yet.  I'm going to draw some fresh beer."
+
+When Edward returned, Charlotte had lit the hanging lamp with the green
+shade over the centre of the table and had settled herself in the one
+saddle-bag chair.  Her husband sat opposite to her on a shiny horsehair
+stool and poured out a glass of foaming ale.
+
+"Your health, my dear," he said, and drank deep.
+
+"Umph! you seem to take it coolly, Edward; I suppose you think it's the
+easiest thing in the world to get employment at your age.  Look at Mr.
+Hardy at No. 4, out for fifteen months and speaks Portuguese, they say,
+like a native----"
+
+Edward held up a protesting hand.
+
+"Mr. Hardy, my dear, doesn't enter into this.  What's happened to-day
+has made me do a bit of hard thinking.  Forty's not old, Charlotte,
+it's young.  I feel like a boy just let out of school.  I'll be full of
+schemes in a day or two."
+
+Mrs. Povey waved her hands unconvincedly.
+
+"But the present," she remarked with a sinister sweetness.  "I suppose
+that hasn't entered into your head, eh?  How about uncle? he's a
+self-made man and thinks everyone should succeed.  When he hears you're
+sacked he'll cut us off without the shilling.  He always says he's got
+no use for failures."
+
+Mrs. Povey paused, and getting no reply went on.
+
+"Besides, I've written to Aunt Eliza plenty of times and said how well
+we were doing; in fact, I'm afraid I've exaggerated, and now, here he
+is coming to visit us.  I'm afraid he'll have a sort of awakening--and
+so will we."
+
+Sitting forward with his hands on his knees, Edward Povey was staring
+into the little heap of cinders in the heart of which still glowed a
+dull red.  His lips were parted and his eyes were dilated.  Mrs. Povey
+leant over and shook him roughly by the shoulder.  Then she moved the
+jug of beer out of his reach.
+
+"Edward Povey, ain't you ashamed of yourself--the state you're in--go
+to bed--you hear me?"
+
+Her husband drew his eyes from the contemplation of the fire and
+motioned to his wife to sit down.
+
+"It's working out," he said, and stretched out his hand for the jug
+that wasn't there.  Then he cleared his throat and told his wife about
+his adventure of the evening.  Charlotte listened in a forbidding
+silence, and when he had finished:
+
+"I don't know what all this gallivanting about in restaurants has to do
+with me," she said sharply, "a few shillings a week--it'll hardly pay
+your fare."
+
+"One moment, dear?  You say that uncle comes to us on Monday--you know
+what his visits are, only business trips, and at the most he'll stay
+two nights.  And, Charlotte, Mr. Kyser goes to Switzerland to-morrow
+for a month--see?"
+
+"See what?"
+
+"My dear Charlotte, I've always thought that women as a class are
+inferior to us men, but for sheer unadulterated stupidity and criminal
+density commend me to Charlotte Povey."
+
+"Edward--you dare to----"
+
+"Dare, my dear, I dare anything.  Fifteen years of being compared to
+Brown, Jones and Robinson and Hardy is enough, madam.  The men you have
+thrown in my face are worms, Charlotte, _worms_.  I dare anything," he
+repeated, and walked round the table and recovered the jug.
+
+"Now listen, Charlotte," he went on more quietly, when he had reseated
+himself.  "I said that uncle is coming to us on _Monday_, and that
+Kyser goes to Switzerland or Sweden, or somewhere _to-morrow_."
+
+Mrs. Povey was leaning back in her chair, her eyes closed to denote
+that to her at least the proceedings had lost all interest.  Something,
+however, in the tone of her husband's voice brought her sharply to
+herself.
+
+"Bushey is a fine place, nice and high, and healthy, Charlotte, and
+will suit uncle down to the ground.  He'll find us living there in
+style--it'll impress him--and----"
+
+"Edward! are you mad?  Bushey--we don't live at Bushey."
+
+Her husband smiled sarcastically.
+
+"Don't we, my dear? really you surprise me--but we're going to,
+Charlotte, we're going to--for two nights only, as the play-bills say.
+We are going to _borrow_ Adderbury Cottage.  The firm owes me a bit,
+and I'll take it out in Adderbury Cottages."
+
+Charlotte was fully roused now.
+
+"Edward Povey, I'll not do it."
+
+Her husband brought his fist down on the table with a thump that
+rattled the crockery and even infused a little flickering life into the
+surface of the glass of dull supper beer.
+
+"You'll do as I say, Charlotte; I'm master here now, and new brooms
+sweep clean, you know.  Now, put some more coals on, and go to bed."
+
+With a strange sense of awe Mrs. Povey, for the first time in her
+married life, did as she was bid, and, with a look of wonderment on her
+vacant face, glided slowly from the room.  For perhaps another hour
+Edward sat over the replenished fire elaborating his scheme.  Really it
+was absurdly simple; of risk there was none.  A kind fate had shown
+them a simple way out of their difficulties, and it would be criminal
+to ignore it.  He knew Uncle Jasper far too well to think of admitting
+to him that he was a failure in the world.  He knew, too, that the old
+man held him in some little contempt, and he welcomed this chance of
+showing him his mistake.  As for Charlotte, she had evidently committed
+herself pretty deeply in her correspondence with Aunt Eliza, and Edward
+anticipated no sustained opposition from that quarter.
+
+It was past midnight when Edward rose and opened the little fumed oak
+bureau that stood in the recess by the fire-place, and taking a sheet
+of the notepaper of Messrs. Kyser, Schultz & Company, wrote to Mr.
+Jasper Jarman telling him how glad Charlotte and himself were to hear
+that he proposed paying them a visit.  He said that the firm for which
+he had the honour to work had at last awakened to the value of his
+services, and that a substantial increase of salary had given him the
+opportunity to receive his dear wife's uncle in a manner more fitted to
+his position, and that he remained with all good wishes, his uncle's
+most affectionate nephew, Edward Povey.
+
+The little iron gate creaked again that night, and as Edward dropped
+the letter into the box at the corner of the terrace he told himself
+that his new life promised infinitely more possibilities than that to
+which he had been accustomed for the past fifteen years.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+BORROWED PLUMAGE
+
+The word _phew_ may have a somewhat indefinite position in the English
+language, but there was no mistaking the tone in which Mr. Edward Povey
+said it as he sank wearily into the depths of one of the handsome green
+leather chairs that stood on either side of the fireplace in the
+dining-room at Adderbury Cottage, Bushey Heath.  The tone of the
+ejaculation plainly indicated escape, or at any rate temporary relief
+from a severe nerve-racking strain.
+
+At the further side of the table beneath the great crimson shaded lamp
+sat Charlotte, her fingers drumming a nervous tattoo upon the polished
+black oak beneath them.  She, too, like her husband showed signs of
+severe nervous prostration.  She raised her head as though about to
+answer Edward's ejaculation but sighed instead and fell again to her
+incessant tapping.
+
+"Do stop that infernal row, Charlotte; you sit there and tap, tap, tap,
+as though--as though--well, give it a rest, it's getting nervy," then
+after a pause, "where have you put them?"
+
+"Them?"
+
+"Yes,--our honoured guests--making themselves at home, aren't they?
+Have you noticed, Charlotte, that there's been no mention of how long
+they're going to stay?"
+
+"I've put them in the room above this.  I expect it's old Kyser's room
+when he's at home here, all chintz and Sheraton."
+
+Edward Povey sat silent for a few moments, gazing stolidly into the
+fire that was burning brightly in the old-fashioned fire-place.  Then
+he got up and with hands thrust deep in his pockets strode up and down
+the room, his steps making no sound on the rich turkey carpet.
+
+"It's going to be rather a harder job than I thought, Charlotte," he
+said at length, pausing in his walk and staring gloomily down at his
+wife, "so many things have turned out differently to what we thought.
+Why couldn't the old fool have said he was bringing Aunt Eliza? she's
+never come before when he's paid us a visit.  I thought I should have
+fainted dead off just now when the old fellow asked me to show him
+which was the bath-room--he takes a cold tub every morning.  Fancy not
+knowing where the bath-room is in one's own house.  I had to open every
+door I came to and call out 'puss'--said I was looking for a kitten
+we'd lost--until I came to the right one, the fifth door I opened I
+think it was."
+
+Edward passed his handkerchief over his forehead, then resumed.
+
+"I blame you, Charlotte, for the unfortunate affair of the photo album.
+You should have put the book out of sight like you did the framed
+photos.  I can't understand old Kyser keeping such a book full of
+crocks anyway, I'd be frightened to death of blackmail.  You ought to
+have known that albums are Aunt Eliza's special weakness.  She got hold
+of it at once and made me go through all the lot and tell her who they
+were and all about them."  Edward grew hot at the remembrance.  "It
+isn't easy to invent names and plausible histories for an assorted lot
+like that at a moment's notice--ugly lot of devils, too."
+
+"The whole idea is yours remember, Edward."
+
+"I know that, woman.  Do you think it makes it any easier for me?--you
+shouldn't have let me--you----"
+
+"You forget, Edward, you said that you were to be master in your own
+house."
+
+"This _isn't_ my own house, is it?  But look here, Charlotte, it's not
+the least bit of good our arguing how we came to be here.  We are here,
+and here we've got to stay and make the best of a bad job.  All we need
+is a little bit of coaching in some of the minor details.  Come over
+here."
+
+Edward took up a richly chased candelabra and led the way to the
+fire-place.  He removed the little paper shades and let the light fall
+full upon the portrait of an aged and benevolent-looking gentleman in a
+splendid old English gilt frame.
+
+"See him, Charlotte; I thought all dinner time your uncle was going to
+ask who he was.  He's sure to ask to-morrow, inquisitive old idiot, and
+we've got to be prepared.  Listen.  This old chap here is a Mr. Tobias
+Kenwick--that doesn't sound faked, does it?--not like Brown or Smith.
+If uncle asks what he was, say he was an engineer and that he's now
+retired and living in Peru.  This old lady over the sideboard," went on
+Edward, crossing the room, "can be a friend of my mother's; say she's
+been dead some years now and that you forget her name but think it was
+Jane something.  Any other portraits he asks about say we picked them
+up at a sale.  By the bye, I must congratulate you on your excuse for
+the absence of the servant--the dying sister in the North of Scotland
+was an inspiration.  I'd trot off to bed now, Charlotte my dear, if I
+were you.  I'll be up presently.  I've got a bit of hard thinking to
+get through here before _I_ think of sleep."
+
+Left to himself Edward ruminated deeply on the situation in which he
+had placed himself.  Things had not turned out at all as he had
+expected and dilemmas had crowded thickly and fast upon him.  The
+advent of Aunt Eliza had entirely unnerved him, and the amount of
+luggage which he had helped to take up to the bedroom seemed to him to
+be quite unnecessary for a short visit such as he had anticipated.
+Hitherto the visits of Uncle Jasper had been always the same, a night
+or two at the most and the days spent in business in London.  His
+luggage had been invariably one suit case and a hatbox.  But the
+present visit pointed more to a prolonged holiday than to a business
+trip.  Edward tried to tell himself that there was nothing to fear,
+that Kyser would not return for a month, and that the secluded position
+of Adderbury Cottage was all in favour of the scheme; detection from
+the outside was a very remote chance.
+
+Edward Povey, however, had not reckoned upon keeping the deception up
+for more than a few days at the most, neither had he reckoned upon the
+nerve strain.  Tradesmen would be calling for orders--visitors, too,
+might reasonably be expected.  A host of new possibilities arose before
+the perplexed vision of Edward Povey.
+
+He could, of course, tell all comers that Mr. Kyser had lent him the
+house furnished.  It was merely a small place used at intervals only by
+its wealthy owner.  What more reasonable than that he should place it
+at the disposal of a friend?  If he were alone, the guarding of the
+secret would be a simple matter, but there was Charlotte to complicate
+matters--Charlotte, who would innocently enough, by a chance word,
+upset his most carefully constructed fabrications.
+
+From the hall came, the rich muffled chimes of a steel-faced Sheraton
+clock.  It was midnight, and Edward rose, and crossing to the massive
+sideboard poured himself out a liberal allowance of brandy, splashing
+into the glass a little soda-water from a wired seltzogene.  Then he
+proceeded to lock up.
+
+Before barring the front door, he passed out on to the verandah-like
+porch and running his fingers through his thinning hair let the cool
+winds of the autumn night play upon the furnace of his forehead.  It
+was very dark and the scene was desolate in the extreme.  A solitary
+light twinkled out here and there from some window in the little
+village that lay beneath him in the valley, and farther off the pale
+radiance in the sky denoted the position of the town of Watford.  There
+was a thick shrubbery encircling the house, and the masses of foliage
+took weird shapes in the darkness, and from a clump of gaunt fir-trees
+came the dismal note of an owl.
+
+Edward Povey shivered a little, and, quietly closing the door, crept to
+his bed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+A LETTER FROM NEW YORK
+
+Jasper Jarman was a self-made man, and, like many another self-made
+man, had a very exalted opinion of his own handiwork.
+
+During his early career Jasper had fought a bitter battle with the
+world; by thirty-five he had conquered it, and now in the evening of
+his days he was very averse to relinquishing any of the moral spoils of
+his victory.  To thwart Jasper Jarman was to rouse to their uttermost
+those fighting instincts that had given him the name of "Stone-wall
+Jarman" in his younger days.
+
+Another trait common to self-made men was possessed by Jasper, he was
+an early riser.  On the morning following his arrival at Adderbury
+Cottage he was abroad by seven, pacing up and down the trim
+box-bordered walk that ran round two sides of the house.  He walked
+with an assertive tread, his large square-toed boots crunching the
+gravel rhythmically.  His hands were lightly clasped behind his back,
+and with chest thrown well out he was inhaling the scented airs that
+rose from the dew-drenched garden.  A blackbird strutted about the
+little lawn, and a close observer would have noticed a certain
+resemblance in the manners of man and bird.
+
+From a little diamond-paned window a blind was drawn aside a few inches
+and an eye peeped cautiously forth upon the world.  As the pompous
+figure of Mr. Jasper Jarman rounded the corner of the house and came
+into view, the blind was quickly dropped back into its place.
+
+Five minutes later Edward Povey emerged from the front door, his
+unbuttoned waistcoat and his vaguely tied cravat giving the lie direct
+to the studied indifference of his walk.
+
+His surprise at coming face to face with Mr. Jasper Jarman was quite an
+admirable piece of acting.
+
+"Good-morning, Uncle Jasper; up with the lark, eh! the early bird, you
+know.  Slept well, I hope?"
+
+"Ah, Edward, my boy, good-morning--slept like a top, thanks; capital
+room Charlotte's given us.  I'm afraid we've turned you out."
+
+"Oh not at all, uncle, pray don't mention it."
+
+"Faces east, though; your aunt finds the morning sun rather trying.
+She's going to turn the room out to-day and shift the bed to the other
+wall."
+
+"Turn out the room, uncle?"
+
+"Yes, my boy; capital woman your aunt, never idle a moment, always up
+and doing.  You won't know this house after she's been here a month."
+
+Edward thought it far more probable that it was the house that wouldn't
+know him by then, but, too taken aback to reply, he merely passed his
+handkerchief over his dry lips and waited for Jasper to continue.
+
+The old man paused in his walk and ran his eye critically over some
+standard rose trees, that, each in its little island of mould, studded
+the lawn.
+
+"Yes, my boy, you'll find we're not drones.  We're busy bees, your aunt
+and me; what she does to the house I do to the garden.  I'm never happy
+unless I'm pottering about with a trowel.  I'll have this place," he
+waved his arm comprehensively, "shipshape in no time.  I'll have those
+roses up and put 'em in a row under the window, they're wasted where
+they are, and we'll re-turf the lawn and make it big enough for
+croquet."
+
+Jasper looked at Edward Povey for approbation.  "Or even tennis," said
+the latter, who felt he must say something.  Then he sat down on a
+rustic garden seat and nervously rolled himself a cigarette.  Jasper,
+leaning a fat elbow upon the stone sundial, went on.
+
+"A nice little place all the same, yes, a nice little place.  Better
+than Clapham, eh, Edward?"
+
+"Much better, uncle Jasper."
+
+"The firm seems to have found out your worth at last.  Well, I'm glad
+of it.  Your aunt is always telling me that Charlotte married a
+fool--no, don't get angry, that's only her way of putting it.  Been
+here long?"
+
+"Not very long, uncle.  You see, I've only got on lately.  I discovered
+a scheme whereby my firm could save a small fortune in postage, and
+they rewarded me liberally.  Then they found out I could correspond and
+speak in French and Spanish, so they rewarded me again.  Oh!  They've
+done me very well, I----  There's the gong for breakfast; we'll go in."
+
+The meal was hardly a pleasant one.  Aunt Eliza, whose temper the
+battle with the morning sun had not improved, munched her toast in
+silence.  She was one of those individuals who appear to undergo a
+refrigerating process during the night hours and to awake frost-bitten.
+During the day she would gradually thaw.  The process was sometimes
+rapid, but more often than not the midday dinner passed before Mrs.
+Jasper Jarman was even commonly polite.  She had never been known to
+smile before eleven.
+
+At eight-thirty Edward prepared to leave the house, presumably for the
+business offices of Messrs. Kyser, Schultz & Company, in Eastcheap.  He
+was glad to escape from the charged atmosphere of the Adderbury Cottage
+dining-room, but he hated to leave Charlotte alone to play his game for
+him.  To let Uncle Jasper suspect that he was not still in the service
+of the firm would of course be fatal.  As he stood in the hall drawing
+on his gloves he noticed that the postman had left in the box a blue
+envelope.  Making sure he was alone, he drew it out.  It was, of
+course, addressed to Mr. Kyser, and Edward was about to place it
+unopened in his pocket, when his uncle's voice came from the stairs
+above--
+
+"That for me, Edward?"
+
+"No, uncle; it's--mine."
+
+Mr. Jasper Jarman was descending the stairs, and, acting upon impulse,
+Edward inserted his thumb beneath the flap and slit open the envelope.
+The action was quite unpremeditated, but he thought it might look
+suspicious to place it in his pocket unopened when he had given Uncle
+Jasper to believe it was his own.  He seemed to have an idea that his
+uncle would ask to see it.
+
+Edward glanced at the clock, and, with a hurried good-bye, flew down
+the garden path, the open envelope still in his hand.  On turning a
+bend of the road that hid him from view, he looked long and searchingly
+at it.  It had been forwarded to Adderbury Cottage from Mr. Kyser's
+town house in Grosvenor Square, and Edward thought it strange that that
+should be so.  Surely his housekeeper in town knew that her master was
+not at the cottage.  Altogether Kyser's departure was rather
+suspicious.  Edward had heard Mr. Schultz speaking to his partner the
+day he had left, had even heard them bid each other good-night, and
+now, as he thought of it, he remembered Schultz making an appointment
+for the next day.  Looking at the affair squarely, it came home to
+Edward that Kyser's departure was hurried, not to say suspicious, and
+was even unknown to his housekeeper and his partner.
+
+Suppose the owner of Adderbury Cottage had committed some crime, the
+police might even now be there after him.  Self-preservation told
+Edward that he should read the contents of the envelope he held in his
+hand.  Any information that showed light upon the situation it was
+clearly to his interest to know.
+
+By this time he was walking rapidly down Clay Hill leading to the
+village of Bushey.  He passed through the straggling High Street, past
+the old church, and descended the further hill into Watford.  He was
+still holding in his hand the letter.  At eleven o'clock he entered the
+smoking-room of the Rose and Crown, and having ordered a small Bass,
+drew a sheet of paper from the envelope that had been forwarded to Mr.
+Kyser from his town house in Grosvenor Square.
+
+
+"19, WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET,
+  "NEW YORK CITY,
+    "U.S.A.
+
+"_To Sydney Kyser, Esq._
+
+"_MY DEAR OLD FRIEND,_
+
+"_You will be surprised to hear from me again after so long a lapse,
+but many things--ill-health among them--have prevented my travelling to
+England, although I have promised myself the trip many times in the
+past few years.  And now I feel that I shall never take it, and that
+the doctor here, who gives me two weeks to live, speaks the truth.
+Well, I've had a good innings, and, as they say over here, 'there's no
+kick coming.'  I leave only one regret, and it is with regard to this
+that I venture to write to you.  If you would do a dying man a
+kindness, and at the same time right a wrong, the chance is now yours.
+My state of health will not allow of my writing my request in full--and
+I ask you to promise nothing until you know all.  This you can do by
+calling upon Mr. Abraham Nixon,_ 5A, _St. Mary Axe, in the City of
+London._
+
+"_This gentleman will tell you a story so remarkable that it may seem
+to you incredible._
+
+"_But it is true every word of it.  You will then act as you see fit.
+But I conjure you, by our past friendship, to do as Mr. Nixon asks._
+
+"_Your_ bona fide _will consist of the crest torn from the head of this
+notepaper, which please send in to Mr. Nixon with these words written
+on it in red ink--_
+
+  '_MR. SYDNEY_ re _GALVA_'
+
+
+"_If you follow these instructions to the letter, Mr. Nixon will at
+once put you in complete possession of all the facts of the case._
+
+"_With my last breath I shall pray for you and the success of the
+mission._
+
+"_Yours,_
+  "_HUBERT BAXENDALE._
+
+"_P.S.--You will see that Mr. Nixon will know you as Mr. Sydney.  Not
+knowing whether you would like to undertake what I ask in your own
+name, I thought it wiser that in this matter you should be known simply
+as 'Mr. Sydney.'_
+
+"_H. B._"
+
+
+Edward read the letter through many times before he finally folded it
+and replaced it in its envelope.  Then he sat for a long time thinking
+on what he had read.  There was no way of corresponding with Mr. Kyser
+for a month, and by that time the wrong that the letter spoke of might
+be past the righting.
+
+Would it not be better if he were to act, as it were, for Mr. Kyser,
+and, under the name of Sydney, gather what information he could from
+Mr. Nixon?  He would then be able to judge more clearly what it were
+best to do.
+
+Of course, in his own mind, Edward knew well that to act as he
+suggested to himself was taking a most unwarrantable liberty with
+another's affairs; but he was hardly himself.  The excitement of the
+last few days had had anything but a salutary effect upon his moral
+balance; he had been living in a hot-bed of lies, and his
+discriminating powers of right and wrong had deteriorated sadly.
+
+Who could say but that in this letter was a way out of the hideous mess
+he had made of things up at Adderbury Cottage?  There was nothing
+against his going to St. Mary Axe.  The letter plainly showed that Mr.
+Kyser and Mr. Nixon were unacquainted.  There would be nothing to tell
+him from the real Mr. Sydney.  It would at least fill in the time
+during which he must remain away from the cottage.
+
+Edward Povey called the waiter and borrowed a time-table.  He consulted
+this, then made his way to the writing-room, where he found a bottle of
+red ink.  From the head of Mr. Baxendale's letter he tore the crest and
+heading, and across it he wrote the words mentioned in the letter.
+This he folded and placed in his pocket-book.
+
+At half-past three the same afternoon Mr. Edward Povey, _alias_, for
+the moment, Mr. Sydney, pushed open the swing doors of Mr. Abraham
+Nixon's office in St. Mary Axe--and came to grips with Romance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+AN ECHO OF A TRAGEDY AND THE DRAINAGE OF A COTTAGE
+
+As Edward was, after sending in his slip of paper, ushered into the
+private office, a tall, gaunt man of unmistakable solicitor type rose
+from his desk and crossed over to him with extended hand.  Edward put
+his out also and winced somewhat as it was tightly engulfed by the bony
+fingers of the solicitor.
+
+"Mr. Sydney, I understand."
+
+Edward Povey bowed, he had no great liking for telling lies and he
+preferred to act them where possible.
+
+Mr. Abraham Nixon handed a chair to his visitor, and, reseating himself
+at his desk, picked up a telephone receiver and inquired for Mr.
+Crooks, asking that gentleman to kindly be sure that they were not
+disturbed for at least one hour.
+
+At this Edward grew cold with apprehension.  It seemed to him that
+there was something of an ordeal in front of him.  Mr. Nixon's first
+words, however, somewhat reassured him.
+
+"I understand from Mr. Baxendale that you are entirely ignorant of the
+subject referred to in his letter, Mr. Sydney."
+
+"Entirely, Mr. Nixon, and it is perhaps better to say at once that,
+however much I desire to help my old friend and to fall in with his
+wishes, I cannot hold myself liable in any way--cannot commit myself."
+
+Mr. Nixon held up a thin hand.
+
+"A very sensible remark, Mr. Sydney, and one that I should have made
+myself had I been placed as you are.  You are not in any way bound by
+what I am telling you except in the event of your refusal; in which
+case I shall enjoin you to secrecy.  Pray excuse me a moment."
+
+Selecting a flat key from a ring he took from his pocket, Mr. Nixon
+left the room, returning in a few minutes with a small deed-box on
+which was painted in white letters--
+
+  GALVA--BAXENDALE
+
+This, Mr. Nixon placed upon a small side table, and selecting a flat
+key from the bunch on his ring inserted it in the lock.
+
+"It is a curious story that I have to tell you, Mr. Sydney," he began
+as he pushed open the creaking lid.  "I suppose I'm the only person to
+whom Mr. Baxendale told it.  A very reserved and secretive man, Mr.
+Sydney."
+
+"Very," answered Edward Povey, much relieved to hear it.  Then he kept
+silent as he watched the solicitor remove from the box a few small
+articles, each carefully sealed up and docketed in a neat handwriting,
+the purport of which Edward could not make out at the distance.  These
+articles arranged in a row upon his desk, Mr. Nixon leant back in his
+chair, and, placing the tips of his thin fingers together, began his
+tale.
+
+"Perhaps you will remember, Mr. Sydney, the era of bloodshed and murder
+which attacked the little island kingdom of San Pietro some years back,
+I think in the autumn of '93.  It was, in its way, as virulent as the
+Paris revolution, but San Pietro is a small kingdom, and although quite
+independent was not able to withstand the pressure of her more powerful
+neighbours.  Spain, being the nearest, has always had a word to say in
+the San Pietro politics.  The result was that the crisis was as
+short-lived as it was terrible.  The reigning family had been put to
+death at the outburst of the revolution.  The king, rather a
+pleasure-loving sort of person, had enjoyed some popularity among his
+subjects, but his marriage with an actress whom he had met in Vienna
+inflamed the ladies of the court, and, through them, their husbands.
+
+"Most of these were officers standing high at court or in the army, and
+considering their wives insulted by the presence of an actress upon the
+throne, planned the assassination under the cloak of politics.  The
+result was the terrible doings at the Palace at Corbo on that night in
+October.
+
+"Baxendale, then a middle-aged man, traveling on business in Spain at
+the time, took ship across to San Pietro, intending to send first-hand
+news to a paper he was interested in in New York.  Once arrived,
+however, he found more difficulty in returning.  The Dictator whom the
+people had set up was very rigid in the matter of censorship, and not
+only could poor Baxendale get no news through, but he himself was
+politely but firmly told he could not leave the island.
+
+"One afternoon about three or four days after the massacre he was
+taking a walk through the Sebastin Park, which I understand is on the
+edge of the capital, and merges from cultivation to the wild track of
+forest land which lies to the north.  Baxendale had walked further than
+he had intended and was surprised to find of a sudden that the sun was
+sinking.  As he turned to retrace his steps a curious sound came to his
+ears, that was for all the world like the cry of a child, The forest at
+this place was very dense, the branches of the tall pines interlacing
+overhead, whilst the undergrowth was thick enough to hide objects at a
+few yards.
+
+"Baxendale parted the bushes and forced a way through them in the
+direction from which the cries seemed to come.  The wailing had
+stopped, and he was telling himself that it was some forest beast he
+had heard when it was again taken up, and now he made out the low
+crooning of one who hushes and soothes a baby.  At this he moved
+faster, and in a few moments came upon a tumble-down hut such as is
+used by the charcoal-burners of the woods.
+
+"He had not been heard, for the crooning still continued and was
+evidently having the desired effect, as the child's cries had ceased.
+His light tap at the crazy-hinged door was answered only by the sudden
+cessation of the voice, and a dead silence.  Then he cautiously pushed
+open the door.
+
+"It was a poor enough place--indeed, little more than a ruin, and, in
+the dim light, Baxendale told me he could not at first make out any
+definite object.  As his eyes grew more accustomed to the gloom,
+however, he made out the figure of a woman.  She was standing facing
+him; he could not see her face clearly, but her whole attitude was one
+of defiance, and she seemed to be standing at bay, guarding something
+behind her.  Baxendale could make out a bench on which were rolled a
+few clothes.
+
+"Just then a ray of the setting sun pierced the branches and
+illuminated the interior of the hut.  On the heap of clothes was a
+little baby girl about two years of age.  The red rays played round the
+curly head, and Baxendale was smitten to the heart as he looked from
+the sleeping babe to the woman, who, seeing in Baxendale a friend, had
+sunk down on the earth floor and was silently weeping."
+
+Mr. Nixon paused, and cleared his throat.  He looked at his listener
+for signs of attention.  The latter, who had almost forgotten the part
+he was playing, in his interest in the tale that was being told to him,
+nodded his head and asked if Mr. Nixon objected to tobacco.  The two
+men smoked for a few moments in silence, then the solicitor resumed the
+tale.
+
+"Beyond this I know very little and that little I will tell quickly.
+Baxendale came into this office in the spring of '98 and told me all
+this.  The little child on wakening had held up her arms to him and
+smiled.  The good fellow could not withstand the mute appeal, and
+resolved then and there that she should be his charge.  Afterwards,
+when he had got them safely across to England, the woman who was the
+child's nurse told him the history.  She had been afraid to do so
+earlier for fear it would have altered Baxendale's intentions, and she
+was too anxious to set her back to San Pietro to risk that.
+
+"The baby girl was the Princess Miranda, only child of the ill-fated
+king and queen of San Pietro.  On the fatal night, the nurse told
+Baxendale, she had been in the night nursery with the princess and her
+own niece, little Miranda's foster-sister, a child only a few months
+older than the princess.  She told him of how she had seen the flare of
+torches and heard the clamour, and how the distracted queen had rushed
+in shrieking for her baby, and had caught up what she thought was her
+little one, and with it under her robe had fled to what she fondly
+considered was a place of safety.
+
+"As events proved, there was no place of safety for that unhappy woman
+that night, and when the next day the bodies were laid to rest in the
+royal vault, a little dead child was buried with the queen, but it was
+not the Princess Miranda, although the monument that was raised by the
+tardy conscience of the San Pietro people is engraved with her name.
+
+"Since the revolution, the political state of San Pietro has been
+somewhat uncertain.  The people are simple and loyal folk at heart, and
+it was not long before they discovered the real reason of the uprising.
+Then they cried loudly for a king again, and Spain, who had only been
+waiting for this, put Prince Enrico upon the throne.  You will have
+heard of this man, whose follies and deviltries are the talk of Europe.
+San Pietro tolerates him, for his court is brilliant, and has brought
+much money to the place; in fact, the whole island, and more especially
+the capital, is now one of the pleasure centres of Europe.  This has
+had a most beneficent effect upon the fortunes of the island, but there
+are still some of the more sedate families who deplore the loss of
+dignity of their beloved land.
+
+"The rightful heir is of course Miranda, the little princess with whom
+the poor nurse sought refuge in the forest.
+
+"She is now living in England, the nurse is still with her, and Miranda
+has no idea of her high birth.  Baxendale never confided to me what his
+projects were."
+
+The solicitor leant over and picked up a letter which had been in the
+deed-box and handed it over to Edward, who took it and sat with it
+unopened in his hand waiting for Mr. Nixon to speak.
+
+"You will read that when you leave here, Mr. Sydney, carefully, and I
+shall expect to hear from you in the course of a few days.  There is
+the matter of money to be considered.  My client has made adequate
+provision"--Edward pricked up his ears at this--"for what he terms 'the
+mission.'"
+
+"In two days I will call on you again, Mr. Nixon.  Good-afternoon."
+
+Povey stood in Leadenhall Street at the entrance to St. Mary Axe and
+tried to think things over.  It seemed to him as though he had just
+emerged from the gloom of romantic forests and the splendour of courts,
+and the foggy atmosphere and hoard of hurrying clerks appeared to him
+to be unreal.  Then he pulled himself together and strolled quietly
+westward.
+
+Along Leadenhall Street and through the market he walked deep in
+thought, making his way from force of habit in the direction of London
+Bridge.  It was not until the spars and masts of the shipping came in
+sight that he remembered his changed conditions, when he hailed a
+passing taxi and was driven to Euston.
+
+He had not long to wait for a train to Bushey, and no sooner had it
+left the platform than he had the letter out of his pocket and was
+breaking the seal.  It was written on the paper of the Waldorf Hotel,
+New York, and was dated at the beginning of the year.
+
+
+"_MY DEAR SYDNEY,_
+
+"_I am addressing you in this letter, as I hope and devoutly trust that
+yours will be the hands into which it will fall.  My own health has
+been so bad of late and has shown such unmistakable signs of breaking
+up that I fear I must give up all hope of ever carrying out,
+personally, my desires.  Next to myself, I would wish you to do so;
+failing you, Mr. Nixon has his instructions what to do.  But you won't
+fail me._
+
+"_This gentleman will have told you the outlines of the history of the
+Princess Miranda.  It has always been my desire that on her eighteenth
+birthday she should be told the story of her high origin.  As this date
+approaches--the_ 15_th of November--I feel that the seven or eight
+months between us will see my finish, so while there is yet time I
+write to you, my old friend, to act for me in this matter._
+
+"_The Princess, I have named her Galva, after a carn in the vicinity of
+her house, is at present living with her nurse at Tremoor, a few miles
+from Penzance._
+
+"_Mr. Nixon will give you, on your expressing your willingness to
+undertake the mission, two or three objects which will prove beyond
+doubt the claim of the dear girl to the throne of San Pietro.  You will
+go to her and tell her everything; I would not feel I had done my duty
+were I to keep her in ignorance, although it might be kinder to do so._
+
+"_If, after hearing you out, she elects to remain in her quiet peaceful
+life, she shall do so.  If, on the other hand, she decides on following
+up her high destiny you will take her with her nurse to Corbo,
+travelling as independent English tourists, and seek out Senor Luazo,
+or his heir, at_ 66, _Calle Mendaro, and hand him a letter which Mr.
+Nixon will give you.  After that I can safely leave you in his keeping._
+
+"_My fortune, I have divided equally between the man who undertakes
+this mission and Galva herself, with the exception of an annuity to
+Senora Paluda, the nurse who has done so much and been so much to
+little Galva._
+
+"_I can easily throw my mind back to that day in the forest, and the
+smiling babe holding up her little arms is a picture that will always
+be with me even at the end.  Tell Galva that I will die thinking of her
+and of all she has been to a lonely old bachelor._
+
+"_When the end comes, too, I will think of you and of what you are
+doing for me, and will bless you for it._
+
+"_And now, my old friend, good-bye._
+
+"_Yours ever,_
+  _HUBERT BAXENDALE._"
+
+
+Edward Povey folded up the letter carefully and placed it in his
+pocket.  Then, leaning his head in his hand, gazed out at the flying
+landscape and tried to think things out.  It took him some little time
+to appreciate who he really was.
+
+He had felt, ever since Mr. Nixon had mentioned the financial aspect of
+the undertaking, that he would be more than foolish to let slip such a
+providential way out of his sea of difficulties.  The moral side to the
+question he was able to smooth over to his satisfaction.  He knew Mr.
+Kyser, and Mr. Kyser's ways, and told himself that that gentleman would
+not welcome, at his time of life, an adventure such as the one that the
+solicitor had put before him that afternoon.  Again, he told himself
+that it was not possible for him to communicate with Mr. Kyser until
+the eighteenth birthday of the princess had passed.  He said it would
+be wrong and unkind to let the poor lonely girl think that she was
+forgotten.
+
+Further self-discussion on the matter was taken out of his hands by a
+watching Fate who suggested something refreshing as he breasted the
+first part of the straggling hill that led from the railway station up
+to Bushey Heath.  He paused at the Merry Month of May, then decided to
+push on to a little hostelry that he had noticed on the way down that
+morning.
+
+He entered the door of the White Hart and turned to the right through
+the tiny bar into the smoke-room.  Two tweed-clad artists from the
+near-by studios lounged in more or less elegant poses at the
+red-clothed table, they looked up and nodded as Edward entered, then
+returned to the perusal of the evening papers which had evidently just
+arrived.
+
+The host of the inn came from the bar and attended to the new-comer's
+wants, and Edward took from his pocket an _Evening News_ that he had
+bought in town.  He read it listlessly for some minutes, then the two
+bored-looking youths looked up suddenly as the man gave a gasp.  They
+stared at him so curiously that he felt an explanation was necessary.
+
+"Went the wrong way--gentlemen," he said, pointing to his glass of
+beer--"windpipe, I think."
+
+The elder of the two youths grunted and leaning back lit a cigarette.
+He watched Edward, at first carelessly, but as he saw the man take out
+a penknife and cut from the paper a paragraph, he grew more interested.
+In a few moments Edward gulped down his beer, and, without a word, made
+his way outside.
+
+"Bertie," it was the elder artist who was speaking, "that chap saw
+something in the paper that upset him a little--is that the _News_
+you're reading?"
+
+"Yes--why?"
+
+"Look at page five, will you, the third paragraph from the bottom on
+column two.  Read it out loud if you don't mind."
+
+The paper rustled as the other young man turned to the desired portion,
+then in a blase voice read:--
+
+
+"MYSTERIOUS DEATH IN PARIS.
+
+"A gentleman who arrived at the Hotel Meurice from London two days ago
+has met with a fate such as is becoming more and more frequent in the
+streets of Paris.  A gendarme passing down the Rue des Batignolles last
+evening about ten o'clock, came upon the body of the unfortunate man
+huddled into an angle of a doorway.  Assistance was forthcoming, but
+was too late to be of any service to the victim, who had suffered
+terrible injuries to the head, and to which he succumbed within an hour
+after his admission to the hospital.  The outrage points undoubtedly to
+being the work of the dreaded Apaches.  The deceased gentleman, who was
+about fifty years of age, had registered under the name of Sydney
+Kyser, but it has been impossible to trace among his belongings any
+clue to his home address.  The French police, however, are in
+communication with Scotland Yard, and are in the mean time actively
+engaged in searching for the perpetrators of the outrage."
+
+
+"Bet you that chap knew this Kyser, or whoever it is----" a yawn--"none
+of our business, what!  See you in Peter's studio, there's a game of
+bridge on, I think.  Ta-ta."
+
+Meanwhile Edward Povey was walking up Clay Hill in a ferment of
+thought.  It seemed ten years rather than one week since he had been on
+his stool in the dingy Eastcheap counting-house.  He had hoped for a
+little excitement to enter into his life, and he was getting excitement
+to the full.  He had not looked upon the borrowing of Adderbury Cottage
+as a crime; the advent of Uncle Jasper and Aunt Eliza was nothing more
+than a farce--but now tragedy was playing a hand in the game in the
+shape of a Parisian murder.
+
+He stopped suddenly as a thought struck him.  It could not be long
+before Mr. Kyser's business friends heard of his death, when visits
+would be paid to his houses, to Grosvenor Square and to Adderbury
+Cottage.  It was easy enough quietly to leave the place himself and to
+take Charlotte; with Uncle and Aunt it was different.  Various schemes
+entered into his head for effecting their departure, schemes that made
+poor Edward think that given opportunities he would have made a
+first-class criminal.
+
+The ruse upon which he finally decided was an inspiration.  He laughed
+to himself as the absurd simplicity of it all came home to him.
+
+He retraced his steps to the village, this time choosing the Red Lion,
+and engaged a fly to carry him down into Watford, where he entered the
+same hotel that he had patronized in the morning.  He made straight for
+the writing-room where he remembered having seen some headed
+note-paper.  Then he wrote himself a letter, signing himself Henry
+Birkett, Public Analyst for the County of Herts.  In the letter he said
+that the sample of water submitted to him from Adderbury Cottage was of
+a very dangerous description.  He said that any one living in the
+afore-mentioned Adderbury Cottage was running a grave risk.  The place,
+he added, must be in a deplorable sanitary condition, and that steps
+must be taken at once to overhaul the drainage.
+
+With this missive in his pocket, Edward Povey reached Adderbury Cottage
+about eight o'clock.
+
+The party were just sitting down to dinner, and were, with the
+exception of Charlotte, in a genial mood.  Mrs. Povey, poor woman,
+showed plainly the anxiety and strain of the time she had been through,
+but Uncle Jasper was in fine form.  He had already started operations
+on the garden, and was full of projects for the morrow.  Edward smiled
+grimly as he listened to his talk of roses and cucumbers.
+
+When dinner was over, the two men sat smoking and talking of various
+things, still mostly gardens.  Aunt Eliza had gone to her re-arranged
+bedroom, whilst Charlotte could be heard in the kitchen, to which place
+the poor woman had flown many times in the course of the day as to a
+harbour of refuge.
+
+Purposely allowing his pipe to go out, Edward took from his pocket the
+letter he had written to himself, and tearing off the blank sheet made
+a spool with which he relit his pipe.  Then leaving the rest of the
+letter on the table, he made some excuse and went from the room.  He
+left the door ajar, and watched the reflection of his uncle in the
+mirror of the sideboard.  In less than three minutes he found that his
+faith in the inquisitiveness of his uncle had not been misplaced.
+
+Edward Povey tiptoed to the kitchen, and, hastily warning his wife,
+awaited developments.  They were not long in coming.
+
+A chair was thrust hastily back and agitated steps left the dining-room
+and creaked upstairs.  Voices in discussion were heard above.  Then
+Uncle Jasper came down.  He was boiling over with wrath as he entered
+the kitchen, and to Edward, who knew the circumstances, the old man's
+efforts to disguise his feelings were not without their humour.  The
+old man felt at that moment that he would have given half his fortune
+to tell the pair before him what he thought of them.  But for once in
+his life Jasper Jarman had met his match.  To admit that he had read
+another man's letter was not to be thought of.  Equally impossible was
+it for his wife and himself to remain another night in the pestilential
+atmosphere of Adderbury Cottage.  He made a gurgling noise in his
+throat, then:
+
+"I'm sorry, Edward, but I had forgotten this is the 3rd.  I have to be
+in Kidderminster by twelve o'clock to-morrow--I--I--it means thousands
+to me."
+
+He glared at them in impotent rage for a moment, then went on.
+
+"You must get us a cab, Edward--now.  There's only one way, and that is
+to drive into Watford and stay there and catch the early train to
+Birmingham in the morning."
+
+"But surely, uncle----" Charlotte began.
+
+"The only way, Charlotte, my dear, I assure you.  Edward, there is a
+cab to be had, I suppose?"  The old fellow was clenching and
+unclenching his hands, his eyes were round with anger.
+
+"If you must, uncle, you must.  I know what business is.  Charlotte,
+give me my boots, I'll get a conveyance here in half-an-hour."
+
+Charlotte never could tell how she got through that dreadful half-hour.
+Uncle Jasper, muffled in his coat, was treading the gravel of the path
+furiously.  Aunt Eliza, her lips a thin thread, was seated on her box
+in the porch.  From time to time they addressed a few words to their
+hostess, the very forced civility of which was obvious from the way
+they were jerked out.  Then, at last, a rattling old landau appeared,
+and the last scene of Uncle Jasper's visit to Adderbury Cottage was
+reached.
+
+As the vehicle rattled away Edward heard the explosion of his uncle's
+wrath and the restraining _hssh_ of Aunt Eliza.
+
+At seven the next morning Edward Povey borrowed a farm cart from an
+adjacent cottager and sent on their things to Harrow Station.  It being
+a fine morning, they elected to walk.
+
+At ten-thirty the representatives of the late Mr. Sydney Kyser paid a
+visit to Adderbury Cottage and made an inventory of the contents of
+that desirable residence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+AT THE UNION HOTEL, PENZANCE
+
+There was a quietude about the little front dining-room in Belitha
+Villas that was very soothing to the somewhat strained nervous systems
+of Mr. and Mrs. Povey.  Each in their accustomed positions and chairs
+they gazed into the small fire that was burning brightly in the grate.
+Upon the table were the remains of lunch.  Charlotte's expression was
+one of repose, but her husband's brows were contracted as he puffed at
+his pipe, which was not to be wondered at considering he was turning
+over in his mind how he was to acquaint Mrs. Povey with his intended
+departure.
+
+"I am expecting, Charlotte," he began at last, his eyes fixed
+meditatively upon a hissing jet of gas that was escaping from the coal,
+"to be leaving the country shortly on business."
+
+Mrs. Povey, who during the last three days had ceased to show or even
+feel surprise at anything her husband said, merely remarked, "Oh!"
+dully.
+
+"Yes, my dear, and I want you to shut up the house--I have my
+reasons--and take rooms at Abbot's Hotel during my absence."
+
+At this the lady became rather sarcastic.
+
+"Or the Ritz, Edward, it seems to me that----"
+
+Mr. Povey held up a silencing hand.
+
+"I don't want to hear what it seems to you, my dear, I want you to go
+up to Abbot's and take a suite this afternoon.  I intend to allow
+you--er--five pounds a week, Charlotte; I think that should be
+sufficient."
+
+The surprise that the good lady would not allow herself to show had at
+least the effect of keeping her silent.  Her husband rose and went out
+into the hall, returning immediately with his hat in his hand.
+
+"I am going out, my dear, and will call back in an hour with a cab.
+You needn't unpack the things, we'll take them with us."
+
+For fully ten minutes after Edward's departure Charlotte sat in thought
+before the fire, and then rose to take a look round the house before
+leaving it.  It was strange for this woman to be thus doing the bidding
+of a man for whom she had hitherto had such scant respect.  The change
+that opportunity had worked in her husband would not have been welcome
+to her but for the promise of better times that his words and actions
+suggested.  She could not but look forward to the suite at Abbot's, the
+hotel in Bloomsbury at which they had dined two or three times during
+their married life.
+
+As she walked slowly from room to room she found herself picturing the
+glories that were to be hers, the lofty dining-room with its pillars of
+marble and the windows with the long red curtains.  Then her thoughts
+ran to the five weekly pounds that were to be hers also, and she
+wondered if Edward meant her to pay for the suite out of them.
+
+She dressed herself in the best that her wardrobe afforded and gathered
+together a few personal belongings into a small hand-bag, which,
+together with the trunk and portmanteau they had that morning brought
+from Bushey, she placed in the hall to await her husband's return.  It
+was four o'clock when Edward softly closed the front door of No. 8,
+Belitha Villas, and with Charlotte and the luggage clattered away in
+the decrepit old four-wheeler which he had fetched from the rank.
+
+As they turned the corner, Edward, who had been idly gazing from the
+window, drew back sharply into the shadows of the vehicle.  He
+signalled the driver to stop, and getting out, walked carefully back to
+the corner, where, with his eyes, he followed the movements of two men
+who were looking up at the numbers of the houses.  They paused at No.
+8, and pushing open the gate marched up to the door.  Edward saw one of
+them knock, then he hurried back to the cab.
+
+"Just in time--I thought so," he muttered.
+
+He then told the cabman to drive to King's Cross station.  Arriving
+there he dismissed him, and taking another cab deposited his silent but
+wondering wife at the door of Abbot's Hotel.
+
+Then, after booking the suite of rooms, he left her, and entering a
+passing taxi was driven to St. Mary Axe.
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+A few days following the hurried and undignified evacuation of No. 8,
+Belitha Villas, a smart and exceedingly well-groomed little man was
+contentedly sitting in a front private room of the Union Hotel at
+Penzance.
+
+The intervening days had been very busy ones indeed for Mr. Edward
+Povey, and ever since the Cornish Riviera train had set him down on the
+shores of Mount's Bay he had considered that a complete rest was due to
+him.  Besides, he told himself that it wanted two days yet till the
+15th of November, and until that date he had no need to pay his visit
+to the heiress to the throne of San Pietro.
+
+He had seen her once driving a smart little governess cart through the
+quaint and steep streets of the Cornish town, and he had found out her
+identity from the unsolicited testimony of the aged waiter who had
+noticed him looking at her.
+
+"There she goes, bless her, the best little woman and the best heart in
+the Duchy," he had said, crossing the room to the window and letting
+his eyes follow the dainty little lady as she leant out of her trap to
+give an order to the grocer who had left his shop and stood rubbing his
+hands together on the curb.  Edward had asked who she was.
+
+"That's Miss Baxendale, sir, her who lives out to Tremoor Churchtown;
+not a man in West Cornwall who doesn't worship the ground she drives
+over--no, nor a woman either, which is saying a goodish deal.  When my
+wife was down with sciatic, sir, she didn't want for naught, she----"
+
+But Edward was not listening, he was gazing spell-bound at the object
+of the old man's talk.  And a picture she made well worth the regard.
+
+Miss Baxendale had now descended from the "jingle" and was standing
+chatting to the grocer in his doorway.  Edward Povey looked in
+admiration at the trim little figure clad in its well-made white
+mackintosh that reached almost to the heels of the tiny brown walking
+boots.  Her face was turned three-quarters towards him, and for the
+first time he began to doubt his wisdom in entering upon the adventure.
+
+Curiously enough the personality of the Princess had not entered into
+his calculations, he had looked upon her merely as a unit in the scheme
+as a whole, a spoke in the wheel of the undertaking.
+
+Now he asked himself what he was to do with this perfect creature, a
+very queen among girls, a being whose every look and gesture spoke of
+the highest breeding and culture, a girl in whose presence he could not
+but feel awkward and ill at ease.  He had half an idea then and there
+of abandoning the whole affair, and going back to London, but second
+thoughts brought back memories of two deserted houses and pointed out
+to him that he had gone too far to retreat.  It was a momentary return
+of the Edward Povey of a few weeks ago, of the personality he had
+striven to put behind him.
+
+He alone of all people knew the history of this lovely girl, and in his
+possession were the papers and trinkets given him in his final
+interview with Mr. Nixon, all the evidence which proved the high
+descent of the Princess.  In his hands alone was her future.  He
+remembered, too, the generous balance now standing to the credit of
+himself, Mr. Sydney, in the Royal Bank of Spain.  To this, as he was
+pleased to read Mr. Baxendale's letter, he felt himself quite entitled,
+as the one who had undertaken the mission.  Before leaving London he
+had burnt his boats beyond redemption, and to give in now would not
+only mean a return to the old hated life, but he feared he had laid
+himself open to criminal proceedings.
+
+Charlotte he had provided for and had left that estimable lady in a
+state of delighted bewilderment at Abbot's Hotel, and the thought of
+returning to her, for both their sakes, was distasteful to him in the
+extreme.
+
+After all, why should he not go on with the matter to which he had put
+his hand?  Although a clerk, Edward Povey was one of those
+quiet-mannered men who can pass muster anywhere and in any society can
+hold their own by reason of their ability to efface themselves when
+necessary.  He had been well educated and was possessed of a soft and
+careful diction.  Also he was endowed with the most valuable knack of
+adapting himself to circumstances.
+
+As he turned from the window he caught the reflection of himself in the
+large gilt-framed mirror that hung over the mantelpiece, and although
+he had seen the same reflection but a few minutes previously it now
+took on a new significance.  If anything had been needed to endorse his
+decision to go on with what he had begun he found it in the picture,
+for he was confronted with a vastly different aspect of himself to that
+he had been used to as shown by the little cracked looking-glass in the
+counting-house of Messrs. Kyser, Schultz & Company in Eastcheap.
+
+He saw a trim, dapper little person, looking not a day older than
+thirty-eight, with a keen, clean-shaven face that bordered on
+intellectuality.  The gold-rimmed spectacles which framed his mild blue
+eyes together with his thinning hair gave him even a scholarly aspect.
+Edward had made good use of his newly acquired cheque-book, and he
+noted with satisfaction that the dark grey suit he had bought in Jermyn
+Street fitted him to a nicety.  His linen was spotless, and a small
+black pearl showed with a dull richness in his dark blue tie.  A thin
+gold chain across his waistcoat and a signet ring with a deep
+claret-coloured stone gave a touch of well-being to his appearance.
+His glance left the mirror and travelled down to his well-cut trousers,
+thence to his brown brogued shoes.  Yes, he was eminently presentable,
+and as he turned again to his easy chair and his paper, he laughed at
+the recent doubts that had assailed him and which now were falling from
+him like water from the proverbial duck.
+
+It was a local journal of little interest and he read on for some
+moments listlessly, then with a smothered cry of astonishment he turned
+the paper more to the light and his listlessness gave place to
+concentration.  There under the heading of London Topics was something
+which set the blood racing through his veins.
+
+
+  THE MYSTERIOUS DEATH IN PARIS
+  REMARKABLE SEQUEL TO THE MURDER OF MR. KYSER
+  THE MYSTERY OF THE BUSHEY COTTAGE
+
+(_Special to the "Evening Post"_)
+
+"It will be remembered that the _Post_ was the first to report, a few
+days ago, the mysterious death in Paris of Mr. Sydney Kyser, a partner
+in the great firm of Spanish Bankers and Merchants of Eastcheap.  Our
+reporter in an interview with Mr. Schultz has discovered that there
+seems to be far more beneath the mystery than was at first supposed.
+
+"It appears that the deceased gentleman's departure from London was
+unknown to any one, not excepting Mr. Schultz himself, and as a meeting
+between the partners, to go through the scrip of certain Spanish bonds
+in the possession of the firm, had been fixed for the following day,
+Mr. Schultz was naturally astonished at the non-appearance of his
+partner.  This astonishment gave place to consternation when it was
+discovered that the safe containing the bonds, of which only himself
+and Mr. Kyser knew the lock combination, had been rifled.
+
+"Enquiries at Mr. Kyser's house in Grosvenor Square elicited the fact
+that the housekeeper in charge was also unaware of her master's absence
+from England, taking for granted that he was at his cottage at Bushey
+Heath, a little property at which Mr. Kyser was fond of spending a few
+days from time to time.
+
+"Mr. Schultz thereupon dispatched two of his trusted clerks to make
+enquiries.  Their report is disquieting in the extreme.  Adderbury
+Cottage had certainly been in occupation since Mr. Kyser's death.  This
+fact was evident from a fire still burning in the grate in the
+dining-room and from the remains of breakfast upon the table.  The only
+people near were the representatives of Mr. Kyser's solicitors, who had
+evidently read in the _Post_ of their client's death.  These gentlemen,
+together with Mr. Schultz's two clerks, made a thorough search of the
+cottage.  On all hands was evidence that the occupants, whoever they
+were, had made a very hasty departure.
+
+"A clue, however, was obtained by one of the solicitor's men who made a
+tour of the near-by cab yards.  He elicited the fact that a vehicle had
+been hastily ordered from one of them on the previous evening, and that
+the cabman had driven an elderly lady and gentleman to Bushey station.
+His fares seemed to him to be in a very disturbed state of mind, the
+gentleman especially so.  The cabman thought that they were man and
+wife because he swore so.
+
+"This couple leaving so hurriedly on the evening on which Mr. Kyser's
+death was reported in the _Post_ is, to say the least of it,
+suspicious, and they have been traced to some extent.  They took
+first-class tickets for Euston, travelling by the 9.49 train.  In
+London all trace was lost of them, but a porter states that they were
+seen again early the next morning entering the 7.10 for Birmingham.
+Here the scent is lost for the present, though from the minute
+descriptions furnished by the different railway officials and the
+cabman of Bushey, the suspected man bears a great resemblance to a
+well-known manufacturer in the Midlands.  It seems, however, absurd to
+identify this prosperous and much-respected man with Mr. Kyser and his
+affairs.
+
+"Another matter which causes some speculation is the fact that the
+caretaker of Messrs. Kyser, Schultz & Company's offices asserts that he
+saw his master in company with a clerk who had that day been dismissed,
+enter a grill-room in Gracechurch Street.  The two representatives of
+the firm after leaving Bushey called at this clerk's address in
+Clapham, only to find that this house, too, had evidently been hastily
+vacated in much the same manner as Adderbury Cottage.
+
+"There, for the present, the mystery rests.  The police, who have been
+communicated with, are, in the mean time, doing their utmost to trace
+the elderly gentleman and lady who took the train to Birmingham."
+
+
+Mr. Povey put down the paper and whistled softly to himself.  Then as
+he thought of poor Uncle Jasper and Aunt Eliza, the mirthful side of
+the affair took him and he laughed for ten minutes.
+
+He rang the bell and told the waiter that he thought he would take a
+Scotch whisky and a small Apollinaris.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+TREMOOR
+
+The morning of November the fifteenth dawned full of promise.  For
+three days previously the toe of Cornwall had been victimized by
+sea-mists, accompanied by a lashing rain from the south-west, and the
+time had hung heavily upon the hands of Mr. Povey.  He appreciated now
+to the full how he had cut himself adrift from his whole past, and the
+knowledge that even his address was known to no living soul gave him a
+curious and chilling sense of isolation.
+
+He took moody walks about the straggling town or along the deserted
+promenade to the fishy but artistic Newlyn, where he would stroll
+aimlessly through the steep and narrow streets or stand and gaze out
+over the froth-capped waves of the bay to where St. Michael's Mount
+rose a gaunt, grey silhouette in the prevailing gloom.  The evenings he
+spent in the cosy little bar at the back of the hotel.
+
+The papers, which he devoured greedily, were silent on the Kyser
+mystery, and Edward could only speculate on the way things were going,
+and he smiled as he wondered if they had arrested Uncle Jasper yet.
+
+He had written a long and comprehensive letter to the Princess,
+acquainting her with all the facts of her birth and the tragedy which
+had followed it, and of his mission.  It had seemed to him a far easier
+course than telling her all the details personally.  He referred her to
+her nurse for all particulars, and he told her that it was in deference
+to Mr. Baxendale's wish that he was deferring the pleasure of calling
+upon her until the actual day of her birthday.
+
+Edward admitted to himself that there was a suggestion of nervousness
+in his manner as he made a more than usually studied toilet.  He took
+simplicity and dignity as the keynotes of his attire, choosing a black
+cravat and black _suede_ gloves as a mark of respect for the tragedy in
+the case.  This he looked upon as an inspiration and one calculated to
+make a good impression upon the Princess.  His brown shoes, too, he
+discarded for a serviceable pair of black walking boots, it being his
+intention to walk the three or four miles to Tremoor.  He stopped at a
+florist's and purchased a little bouquet of white roses.
+
+The promise of the early morning had been duly fulfilled, and the sun
+shone a glorious augury on the undertaking, as at ten-thirty he left
+the hotel.
+
+The road he took was one to the north-west, and, after leaving the town
+behind, it led him into a treeless, desolated district of wild moors
+and granite-strewn carns.  Villages of a few houses, scattered here and
+there, showed white-washed walls and grey lichen-patched roofs against
+the golden glory of the bracken.  Across the moor broken stone hedges
+straggled out at odd angles, and buildings falling into decay, roofless
+and with floorings of rank vegetation, spoke of the time when this
+district was populated by men engaged in wresting the wealth of tin
+from its fastnesses in Mother Earth.  A cluster of dead mine buildings
+showed gauntly upon the horizon, their tall chimneys and ruined
+engine-houses crumbling into decay--a very Pompeii of Industry.  From
+the high ground the sea could be seen on two sides--facing him to the
+north the Atlantic, whilst to the south the waters of Mount's Bay
+reflected the blue of the cloudless sky.
+
+Tremoor Churchtown lay in a valley between two rugged carns, a valley
+which, if followed, would lead to some rocky cove whose silver-sanded
+beach gave upon the broad Atlantic.  As Edward topped the rise and
+stood looking down upon the peaceful hamlet with its square church
+tower, he asked himself whether Baxendale had been wise to wish to
+destroy the bliss of the Princess's ignorance--whether it had not been
+better that she should know nothing of the stress of power, but that
+she should spend her life doing good to those in the little village at
+his feet.
+
+Then Edward Povey shook himself, and with a firm tread picked his way
+between the gorse bushes and the ivy-covered boulders down to a trim
+little house that stood at the edge of the cluster of white-washed
+cottages that comprised the village of Tremoor.
+
+As he paused at the little green gate let in the rough stone wall, the
+door opened and the Princess came smilingly down the path to meet him.
+She walked with the springy step of youth and health, and held out her
+hand with an engaging frankness.
+
+A little below the medium height, the Princess made up in dignity what
+she lacked in inches.  Never had Edward seen such a perfectly
+proportioned little figure, nor such a graceful carriage.  She was
+dressed in a tailor-made gown of dark blue cloth, and in her chestnut
+hair she had threaded a black ribbon.
+
+Her face was rather round than oval and the chin was dimpled.  The
+mouth, too, when she smiled caused other dimples to leap into play, and
+one could easily imagine that she very often _did_ smile.  The eyes,
+large and dark, laughed and danced beneath a pair of perfectly drawn
+brows, fairly thick and arching, and tapering down to a point that
+looked like a single hair at their ends.  Her cheeks, tanned a
+delicious brown by the Cornish sun, were a little flushed with
+excitement.
+
+"Mr. Sydney, is it not?"
+
+Edward bowed and raised his hat.
+
+"And you are the Princess Miranda," he said.
+
+The girl put a finger to her smiling lips.
+
+"Not that here, Mr. Sydney--here, in Tremoor, I am Miss Galva
+Baxendale--my friends would not know me by any name but that."
+
+She turned as she spoke and preceded him up the little path, bordered
+by clumps of hydrangea, veronica and fuchsia, to the house.  The garden
+on either side of the shingle path, a curious mixture of vegetables and
+flowers, glowed with all the tints of autumn.
+
+At the door of the house a lady was awaiting them, a white-haired woman
+of some fifty years of age, tall, and with the most piercing black eyes
+Edward had ever seen.  She received him graciously, and led the way
+into a room to the right of the little passage.  It was an apartment
+larger than one would have looked for in a house of the size, and was
+low-ceilinged and lighted by two diamond-paned windows which looked
+over the moor.
+
+The walls, papered a dull grey-green, were wainscoted to the height of
+an elbow with dark oak, and were hung with etchings and engravings,
+mostly of local scenery, in narrow black frames.  The table laid for
+luncheon was tastefully decorated with little silver pots containing
+slender ferns, and in the centre a tall glass held a sheaf of late
+campions.
+
+Edward felt at ease immediately with his two hostesses, and he
+appreciated to the full the well-served meal.  The subject of the
+"mission" of Mr. Sydney was not touched upon until coffee had been
+brought, then--
+
+"And what is it you are going to do with me, Mr. Sydney?" the girl
+laughed across the table.
+
+"I--I hardly know, Miss Baxendale; the matter rests more with you, I
+think, than with me.  I'm merely here if I'm wanted, as it were."  He
+turned to the elder lady.  "There is, I suppose, no two questions on
+the matter--I mean on the matter of our journey?"
+
+For a moment there was silence between the three.  When Miranda spoke,
+a suggestion of sadness had come into her voice.  She rose and put her
+arms round her foster-mother's neck.
+
+"_You_ want to go to San Pietro, Anna," she said, "for all these years
+you have been away from your native land.  There must be many things
+that you pine for over there, many friends you will want to see."
+
+Anna Paluda raised her fine eyes to the girl's face.
+
+"Yes, Galva, my dear, there are many things I want to see."
+
+She spoke sadly, and Edward turned in his chair and gazed out over the
+wild waste of heath aglow with its tints of cinnamon and mauve.  A
+kestrel wheeled slowly across his vision uttering its dismal cry.
+
+His thoughts were of the sad-voiced, white-haired lady--and again a
+unit in the adventure took individuality.
+
+For the first time he thought of what the enterprise meant for Anna
+Paluda.  Away in the vaulted splendour of the cathedral at Corbo, her
+baby had been sleeping unavenged for fifteen years, sleeping on a royal
+breast in a tomb emblazoned with the arms of the Estratos.  What had
+been the anguish of this mother's heart, who, for the sake of her
+secret, had been forced to nurse her grief alone?  What a cruel
+scourging of the old wound the return would mean to her.
+
+When Edward turned again, Galva had resumed her seat.  He drew up to
+the table and took from his pocket the things that Mr. Nixon had given
+him, a few articles of jewellery, and a letter.  The girl opened the
+letter.  It was addressed to
+
+SENOR LUAZO,
+  _Calle Mendaro_, 66,
+    _Corbo_,
+
+and set out at full length the history of Mr. Baxendale's find in the
+wood.  Not an item of evidence had been overlooked that could prove the
+truth of Miranda's parentage.  The jewellery comprised two or three
+rings and a brooch, engraved with the royal arms.  These Anna had
+snatched up in their hurried flight from the palace.
+
+The princess read to the end, but there was nothing that she had not
+already learnt from her foster-mother.  On the arrival of Edward's
+letter, two days previous, Anna had told her charge the whole history.
+To her mind, the evidence was not as complete as she might have wished.
+She tried to look at it with the eyes of strangers, to whom the story
+of the substitution of the children might suggest a plot.
+
+They discussed the matter in all its bearings.  The love of adventure
+and the call of romance appealed strongly to the eighteen-year-old
+girl, and made the suggested journey a very desirable thing.  They
+would go to Senor Luazo in the Calle Mendaro, and place the whole facts
+of the affair before him.  There could be no harm in that.  They would
+travel under the names of Mr. Sydney and Miss Baxendale, his ward, and,
+with the money at their disposal, could stay in Corbo and see how the
+land lay.  There would be nothing in their appearance or manner to
+single them out from the other families who wintered in the little
+white villas that bordered the beautiful bay of Lucana, which was fast
+rivalling Monte Carlo as a pleasure resort.  The names Galva and
+Baxendale would suggest nothing.  The girl had dropped her real name of
+Miranda for so long; she could do so for a few months more.
+
+The cottage in Cornwall need not be given up; some woman in the village
+could easily be found to look after it during their absence.  In the
+mean time, Mr. Sydney (as Edward must now be called) must bring his
+traps from Penzance and stay with them at Morna Cottage.
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+It was late afternoon, and the two women were taking a last walk on the
+carn above the house in which they had lived so long.  The scene around
+them was magnificent in the extreme.  Away to the west sea and sky were
+stained with the afterglow of the setting sun.  Around them the
+desolate moors stretched out in gentle undulations, shadowy and
+mysterious.  In the clear twilight the lights of the coast shone out;
+below them, the four flashes of Pendeen, and, further up the shore,
+Godrevy and Trevose flickered uncertainly to the distant sight.  In a
+little while it would be dark enough to make out the light on the
+Scilly Islands, blinking like a great red eye over the Atlantic.
+
+The village in the valley was fast merging into the dusk; here and
+there a yellow light twinkled from a window.  Miranda grew sad as she
+looked.
+
+"It is all so beautiful, Anna, and I have been so happy here.  I fear
+sometimes at the journey we are taking--perhaps we will never see all
+this again, and I love every stone of Tremoor."
+
+Anna Paluda placed her arm tenderly round the young shoulders.
+
+"There are fine sights, too, in San Pietro, Miranda--_our_ land.  I can
+remember now the colours that the Yeldo hills take in the evening; the
+sea, too, is beautiful in the bay, and we also have the storms that you
+love to watch so much.
+
+"Besides," she went on, "you may return, but I--never.  I, too, had a
+'mission'; it is nearly over now, and I must stay with my child.
+No--don't pity me, Miranda; the time of tears is long past, but the
+grief is here still.  But we won't talk of my mission.  This is not the
+time for troubling your royal little head over the long-ago affairs of
+an old woman."
+
+With arms linked affectionately they walked down to the house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE PANIC OF A CARPET MANUFACTURER
+
+In the spacious library of Mr. Jasper Jarman's house, "Holmstrand," in
+a respectable suburb of Kidderminster, the wealthy carpet manufacturer
+was sitting at his ease.  On a tiny table drawn up to the fire stood a
+silver coffee service and a small decanter of brandy.  Across his knee
+lay the unopened copy of the _Midland Echo_ which had just been
+delivered.
+
+Indifferently he took it up and turned to the market reports, reading
+the comments from the London correspondent through carefully.  Then he
+read half a report of a divorce case, then--he read the paragraph that
+had caused his nephew by marriage to laugh for ten minutes in the Union
+Hotel at Penzance.
+
+But the news that the flower of Scotland Yard were following up with a
+keen interest the movements of himself, Jasper Jarman, and his wife
+since their eventful departure from Adderbury Cottage was not
+calculated to draw a like explosion of mirth from the elderly gentleman
+taking his after-dinner ease in his library at "Holmstrand."  Perhaps
+Mr. Jasper Jarman was deficient in his sense of humour.
+
+He skimmed through the account hurriedly, then starting up from his
+leather arm-chair he walked to the door and turned the key.  For some
+reason for which he would have found it difficult to account he walked
+on tiptoe.  Then he took the paper, and standing under the cluster of
+electric bulbs that hung from the centre of the ceiling, he read the
+report again, carefully this time, assimilating every point.
+
+Then he put the _Midland Echo_ on the fire and watched it crumble away
+into ashes, continuing to stand there upon the hearthrug deep in
+thought.
+
+There were many aspects of the position in which he found himself that
+he alone could see.  At first it seemed best to him that he should go
+to the police and explain to them fully the part he had taken in the
+affair.  But then it was hardly creditable for him to associate himself
+in so scandalous a matter or to admit such a person as Edward Povey,
+who to his mind was clearly a guilty person, as a relative.  Besides,
+his story might not be believed.
+
+Inspector Melton, too, would make it as hot as he could for him.  He
+was not likely to forget that Councillor Jarman had voted against the
+proposed increase of salary for the hard-worked police official.  He
+grew cold and hot by turns, too, as he thought of the handle he was
+giving to his opponent in the forthcoming parliamentary election, in
+which he, Jasper Jarman, had been persuaded to stand in the interests
+of Free Trade.
+
+He remembered with a pang the affair of a fire which had taken place at
+his warehouse a year since.  The insurance company involved had been
+introduced to him by his nephew, and had been curiously unenthusiastic
+in settling his claim.
+
+To be mixed up in any police court affair with Povey would be to open
+the question again.  The company had been hard hit and had refused to
+renew his policy, and Jasper felt sure they would not let pass any
+chance to get even with him.
+
+There were also some things in the past life of the carpet manufacturer
+which caused him to shun any chance of cross-examination.  There was a
+man who had invented a new shuttle (a machine from which Jasper had
+made thousands), who was now living in poverty in the slums of
+Kidderminster, swearing revenge against the man who had sucked his
+brain and reaped the reward of his labours.
+
+The more he thought, the more a blind and unreasoning panic seized the
+soul of the carpet manufacturer.  Any connection with Povey would cause
+much dirty water to be stirred up.  Better far, he told himself, to
+leave the country until the affair had blown over or had been
+satisfactorily explained.  He would have it given out that his health
+had broken down.
+
+He took an "ABC Guide" from the top of a revolving bookcase and opened
+it at random: Draycot (Derby)--Draycot (Somerset)--Drayton
+(Norfolk)--147-1/2 miles from King's Cross--Population 486--Ah! that
+ought to suit in the mean time.  He moved cautiously to the door.  For
+a moment he stood in an attitude of listening, then unlocked it.  The
+whole framework of nerve which had made Jasper Jarman what he was,
+seemed to break and crumble away before the panic which had seized him.
+
+On second thoughts, however, perhaps it were better to bury himself in
+the heart of London, in the network of the metropolis where it is so
+easy to lie hidden.  He wrote a letter to his wife, who was spending a
+few days in Birmingham, telling her the fiction of his health, then he
+rang the bell for the servant.
+
+As the man entered the room and stood awaiting his orders, his master
+scanned him narrowly.  The man seemed quite normal.
+
+Jasper, controlling his voice with an effort, ordered the car to be
+brought round for him in a quarter of an hour, and after the man had
+left the room, he took a bunch of keys, and, selecting one, opened a
+drawer in his bureau.  From it he took a small fortune in notes and
+gold, and going to his bedroom he changed his evening clothes for a
+blue serge suit and put on a heavy travelling ulster.  As he made his
+way down-stairs he heard the throbbing of the engine at the door.
+
+At half-past eight that evening Jasper Jarman slid out of Kidderminster
+in his Napier car, and in a wonderfully short space of time pulled up
+at the Warwick Arms Hotel at Warwick.  Here he dismissed the car, and
+after a light supper took train to London.
+
+From a paper he bought at Euston he learnt nothing further relating to
+his case, but after a day or two spent in London, he read the tidings
+that his identity had been established, and that an officer who had
+been dispatched to interview him, not finding him at his house, had
+applied for a warrant for his apprehension.
+
+On the shattered brain of the poor man this news had a terrible effect.
+He saw at once that his flight would be looked upon as a sign of his
+guilt, and he racked his brain for the name of some country where the
+laws of extradition were lax.  The Argentine rose to his mind, but he
+had no idea of going so far from England unless it were absolutely
+necessary.  He preferred somewhere where the living would be more or
+less civilized and where he could be handy for return when
+circumstances permitted.
+
+Spain he had heard of, but that was some time ago and there might be
+new laws now.  Then the fate that has the moving of the pieces in
+life's chessboard whispered in his ear--San Pietro.
+
+Even at this late hour he told himself that it were better for him to
+face the music, but the good common sense of Stone-wall Jarman was in a
+state of complete disorganization, and to his panic-distorted brain
+flight seemed the only thing possible.
+
+His wife would be interrogated, but he was convinced that the machinery
+of the law could not touch her.  For himself, on the other hand, there
+was a definite issue: if he returned it would be undoubtedly to stand
+his trial, and he knew what that meant even if he was acquitted, which
+he was not at all sure would be the case.  In any event he said he
+would be ruined beyond redemption, and his reputation would become the
+legitimate sport of his many enemies, political and social, in
+Kidderminster.  The fact would remain that he, Jasper Jarman, had stood
+in the dock beside a man like Povey, who had claimed him as a relative!
+Far rather would he spend the rest of his days in exile; it would mean
+leaving the country in any case, and by doing it now he would escape
+the ordeal that he feared.  "DO IT NOW"--that's what was on a little
+printed card in his office--and he had made it his motto.
+
+Again, how could he hope to explain his hurried and agitated flight
+from Adderbury Cottage, taking place as it did immediately after the
+publication in the _Evening News_ of Kyser's death?  People would never
+believe the evidence of the bad drainage if Povey liked to deny it--as
+he doubtless would.  Edward Povey to Jasper's mind was a guilty man,
+and he attributed to him all the motives and actions of the most
+hardened of criminals; he would only be too glad to whitewash himself
+at the expense of his uncle.
+
+The morning after Mr. Jarman's arrival in London, he had called on his
+bank and drawn a considerable sum of money in cash.  It was not without
+fear and trepidation that he had done this, but he had told himself
+that it was then or never, and the hue and cry had not really begun.
+The manager had met him, and there was no suspicion in his manner.
+This important point settled, Jasper Jarman had made all haste to shake
+the dust of his native country from the soles of his "sensible shape"
+boots.
+
+It was a dull, dripping evening when the carpet manufacturer stood on
+Paddington platform, waiting for the through express for Cardiff.  He
+was rather a different man to the Jasper Jarman who had only a few
+nights previously been reading in his library at "Holmstrand."  He had
+shaved off his moustache and side-whiskers, and his iron-grey hair he
+had attempted to dye black, in which endeavour he had been
+successful--in patches--and to hide this piebald appearance he had
+taken to a larger brimmed soft hat.  He was buttoned up to the chin in
+his heavy ulster, and a muffler covered his mouth.  He looked for all
+the world what he was--a disguised man.  Had there been a detective
+watching for him on that train--which there was not--Jasper would have
+been the first man to merit his attention.  His manner, too, was
+furtive and full of suspicion as he glanced from under the brim of his
+hat at each passer-by.
+
+He had the carriage to himself, and he gave a sigh of relief as the
+train slid out of the station on its non-stop run to the western
+seaport.
+
+With an excess of cunning he disposed of his broad-brimmed hat, by
+dropping it out of the window as the train crawled through the Severn
+Tunnel, replacing it with a cloth travelling hat, which he took from
+his bag.
+
+It was past eleven when he arrived, and the hotel clerk looked
+curiously at the figure in the ulster who asked for a room.
+Remembering the looks which the Paddington passengers had given him, he
+resolved upon a further modification in his attire, and the man who for
+the next few days lounged about the Bute Dock on the look-out for an
+unassuming-looking boat to take him as near San Pietro as possible was
+by no means such a conspicuous figure.
+
+He was successful, after many days, in bribing a passage to Bilbao on a
+tramp steamer that was about to leave, and without loss of time Jasper
+transferred his portmanteau, his ulster, and himself on board.
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+And so it came about that at the same time that Edward Povey Sydney was
+travelling in luxury with his two lady companions between Calais and
+Paris (which latter city had been decided upon as the first
+stopping-place in their journey), his unfortunate relative by marriage
+was passing the great red light on the Scilly Isles in a rousing
+south-wester, a gale which sported with the poor little _Bella_ as with
+a cork.
+
+Thus does necessity play games with the best of us, even with Jasper
+Jarman, who, poor fellow, could not cross the straits of Dover without
+the most acute bodily suffering.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+DUCAL ATTENTIONS
+
+The Duc Armand de Choleaux Lasuer opened one eye and then the other.
+Then he shut them quickly and called for his _valet de chambre_, whom
+he cursed roundly for not seeing that there was a gap between the
+silken curtains of his bedroom window, a little space of which the
+winter sun had taken full advantage.
+
+His grace yawned and smothered an exclamation.  Then he watched with a
+lazy interest the sedate and black-garbed figure of his servant as he
+went about his duties.  The brows of the duke were contracted as though
+in pain, which was not to be wondered at considering the time at which
+his grace had gone to bed.  To be precise, the duke had a shocking head.
+
+"Remy."
+
+"Yes, your grace."
+
+"What o'clock is it?"
+
+"A quarter to one, your grace."
+
+"Then bring my letters and chocolate at a quarter past, Remy."
+
+Left to himself, the nobleman turned his pillow over and rested his
+aching head on the cool freshness and slept fitfully, until Remy woke
+him and placed a little table containing a silver chocolate service by
+his elbow.  He then pulled up the blinds, lit the fire, and entered the
+adjacent room to prepare his master's bath.
+
+Duke Armand tumbled out of bed and thrust his feet into a pair of
+Turkish slippers and himself into a Japanese dressing-gown, and drew up
+a commodious arm-chair to the fire.  Remy, hearing the movement,
+followed noiselessly with the chocolate, beside which he now placed an
+ivory box of cigarettes and a spirit-lamp.
+
+It was one of Remy's duties, previous to brushing and folding his
+master's evening clothes each night, to empty the pockets _en masse_
+into a small drawer in the dressing-table.  The duke was thereby
+enabled to piece together, by the evidence of the articles, the hazy
+threads of the previous evening's doings.  He now drew out this drawer
+and emptied the assorted collection in the lap of his barbaric
+dressing-gown.
+
+A bunch of keys, a menu from Maxim's on the margin of which were
+pencilled two ladies' names--some loose gold and silver--a pair of
+white kid gloves torn to ribbons, and a little gold-chain lady's bag.
+This latter he held up and tried to think how it came into his
+possession.
+
+All the time that he was in Remy's hands he thought and thought, but to
+no purpose.  He had a hazy kind of recollection of having seen it
+before, that was all.  It contained a little lace handkerchief and a
+twenty-franc gold piece, but no initial or other mark of identification
+could be found.
+
+When his toilet was complete, the young Duc de Choleaux Lasuer stood
+before the cheval glass in his room whilst he sprinkled a suspicion of
+Jockey Club upon his handkerchief.
+
+He saw the reflection of a well set up, clean-limbed man of
+twenty-five, with crisp hair of a dark brown, almost black, curling
+back from an intellectual brow.  The skin was of that olive tint that
+sets off dark eyes so well.
+
+The duke was dressed in a grey lounge suit with a waistcoat of some
+dark material sprigged with tiny violet flowers.  His cravat, tied in
+the latest mode, was held in position by a pin surmounted by a large
+blood-red ruby.  The hands were rather large, but with tapering
+fingers; the feet, in their patent leather boots with _suede_ cloth
+uppers, were long and thin.  An aristocrat every inch of him, and a
+dandy withal, but yet with a suggested air of strength and manliness.
+In short, his Grace the Duc de Choleaux Lasuer was a very presentable
+person indeed.  So had thought the Princess Galva when she had caught
+sight of him in the corridors or in the Palm Court of their hotel.
+
+The duke slowly made his way down the wide carpeted staircase, pausing
+in the foyer to light a cigarette.  Then he crossed to the board
+containing letters and telegrams and glanced idly over them.  It was
+here that he read a notice that any one finding a small gold chain-bag
+should communicate with the office clerk of the hotel.
+
+In a flash it came to him that he had picked up the dainty little
+trifle as he went to his room the night before.  His friend, the
+Viscount Mersac, had been with him.  What a night it had been, to be
+sure!  The duke smiled at the recollections.
+
+As he approached the office a little man in a dark grey suit and with
+gold-rimmed spectacles was interviewing the clerk in charge.  He turned
+as the duke approached, and caught sight of the bag in his hand.
+
+"Ah!" he said.  "You have found it?"
+
+The clerk looked up.  "Your Grace," he said, "this is the gentleman who
+has advertised.  It is his ward who has lost it--the little purse."
+
+It was a trivial incident in itself, yet it was the means of an
+acquaintance of sorts springing up between the duke and Mr. Edward
+Sydney, an acquaintance which permitted a whisky and soda together in
+the buffet and a word or two when they met in the foyer.
+
+The introduction to Galva took place after dinner one night, when
+Edward was leaving the hotel with the ladies for the opera.  The duke's
+large white motor-car had refused to budge from in front of the
+entrance, and the girl and her foster-mother had had to walk round it
+to their waiting fiacre.  The duke had apologized very prettily, and
+Galva's already favourable impression of him suffered nothing from the
+meeting--rather the reverse.
+
+From that time the young people seemed to be always crossing the foyer
+at the same time, and once Galva and Edward had accepted the duke's
+invitation to join him in a spin in the lovely car to Barbizon.  It was
+when he was driving his engine that the duke showed to his best
+advantage and told clearly that under the dandified exterior was a
+nerve of iron.  To see his capable hands grip the steering-wheel was in
+itself enough to inspire the utmost confidence.
+
+Galva never forgot that ride and the other rides that followed hard
+upon it.  During her stay in England she had hardly seen a car--the
+roads round Tremoor were not ideal for the sport, and the novelty of it
+all was, to her, wonderful.  The long, straight, white roads fringed
+with tall poplars, and the absence of speed-limit, showed her motoring
+at its best, and she would return to the hotel with cheeks aglow and
+with fascinating tendrils of hair escaping from the dainty motor-bonnet
+she had bought in the Magasin du Louvre.
+
+It seemed nearly every day that the great white car sped away from the
+hotel with the duke at the wheel and the little fur-clad figure of Miss
+Baxendale tucked up cosily by his side.  Edward, who invariably sat
+with the chauffeur in the tonneau, enjoyed these exhilarating spins as
+much as any one, but he began to wonder where it would all end, and to
+ask himself whether he was doing his duty in the sphere to which he had
+called himself.
+
+He indirectly tackled the girl on the subject one day as they sat after
+tea in their private drawing-room.  Anna was writing in her own room,
+and the opportunity was too good to be missed.  Edward cleared his
+throat, and started the subject by saying--
+
+"I have been looking out the trains, Galva.  We will go through to
+Madrid, I think.  It is a little out of our way, but it will be
+interesting."
+
+"Why, guardy, you don't want to leave Paris, surely.  It's grand here,
+and old Spain can wait.  When I get to San Pietro there'll be a lot of
+horrid things to think about and to worry us.  I love Paris."
+
+"Is it only Paris you are so loath to leave, Galva?"
+
+The princess blushed a delicious pink that did not pass unnoticed by
+her self-appointed guardian.  He rose and straightened himself
+importantly, pulling down his waistcoat with a tug.
+
+"You seem to take a great delight in the company of the duke," he began.
+
+For a moment a look of resentment came into the girl's eyes, but she
+rose and put a warm arm round Edward's shoulders.
+
+"Surely you can have no objection to him, guardy.  I--I--_do_ like him;
+but I like you, too, and I wouldn't care to do anything you would not
+wish me to do."
+
+"My dear child"--Edward was quite paternal--"I think it would be best
+to see how things are in your country.  A duke is a good match for Miss
+Baxendale--but perhaps not so suitable for the Queen of San Pietro."
+
+Galva made no answer, but stood looking out from one of the long
+windows at the twilight settling down over the gardens of the Louvre.
+Edward went on--
+
+"Besides, we know nothing of the duke.  Titles on the continent are
+hardly the same as in England.  I don't want to hurt your feelings,
+Galva, but the young man keeps shocking hours.  I saw him come in at
+three this morning.  I don't think he was quite sober; he insisted on
+giving champagne to all the hall porters and taking two huge motor
+lamps to light his way up-stairs."
+
+"Why, guardy! weren't _you_ in bed at three?"
+
+Edward gave a little cough.
+
+"Well--it may have been earlier.  I--I--had been sitting up reading.  I
+don't sleep very well, Galva.  I think it's the change of scene."
+
+The princess turned away so that he should not see her smile.
+
+"I don't expect he's a saint, guardy, but he's most attentive, polite
+and--nice."
+
+"That's not every thing in a husband, Galva, let alone a consort for a
+queen.  You see, I have to look after your destiny--it's my
+mission--and I feel we ought to be on our way."
+
+"At once?"
+
+"Well--say the day after to-morrow.  Tell the duke if he wants to know
+your movements that you will be here at this hotel at the same time
+next year.  We ought to be able to manage it by that time, whatever
+happens.  I must ask you not to tell him where we are going.  We don't
+know how the land lies over there at San Pietro, and we don't want any
+love-sick dukes monkeying round and getting in the way.  You don't mind
+doing as I ask you, do you?"
+
+"My dear guardy, I am in your hands entirely.  I wouldn't like to think
+that I will never see Armand--I mean the Duc de Choleaux Lasuer again,
+but I'll do as you say, I know you are right, but I--I think he likes
+me."
+
+"So I think, Galva.  Really I have been afraid to be left alone with
+him for a week past.  It would be a nice way to carry out my duty to
+Mr. Baxendale to give you to the first man we meet, even if he is a
+duke.  Besides, if he means anything, he'll wait a year,--don't forget
+we're dining early, Galva, as we're going to the Porte Saint Martin."
+
+Edward held the door open for her to pass out, then he turned and
+walked to the fireplace.  For some moments he stood, his legs well
+apart and his back to the fire, communing with himself on his
+importance.
+
+Then a half smile spread itself over his features as he took his mind
+back a few weeks to a dejected little bowed figure shuffling its way
+over London Bridge, and as he glanced round the sumptuous furnishings
+of the room he now found himself in and compared it to Belitha Villas,
+the smile broadened out and he rolled on the brocaded sofa in
+uncontrollable mirth.  Then he sat up and drove his fist into a cushion
+of yellow satin.
+
+"How _dare_ I!" he cried to himself, "how _dare_ I!--Edward Povey,
+you've made strides with a vengeance from the time when you were a poor
+little clerk at forty-five bob a week, when you can forbid a queen to
+marry a duke!  Oh, what _would_ Charlotte say?"
+
+And the little man composed himself and went to his room to dress for
+dinner.
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+In a somewhat secluded corner of the Palm Court two young people were
+sitting.  One of them, a young man of twenty-five was moodily stirring
+his spoon round and round in a tiny cup of tea.  In his other hand he
+held the fingers of Miss Galva Baxendale.
+
+"A year's a long time," he was saying.
+
+"But you've only known me a few days, and----"
+
+The Duc de Choleaux Lasuer turned to her.
+
+"Nearly a fortnight, Galva, and in knowing you I have known myself.
+I've been a bit of a 'rotter' as you English call it, but things are
+going to be different now.  I'll turn teetotaler--and learn a trade."
+
+"And get to bed without the aid of two Bleriot lamps?"
+
+The duke drove the spoon through the bottom of the dainty cup.
+
+"Now come, Galva, that's hardly fair; they told me about it in the
+morning.  I didn't know it was the talk of the hotel.  You know when it
+happened?"
+
+"No--why?"
+
+"It was after you had refused to come to the Opera with me, that's
+when, how, and why it happened."
+
+"In that case I suppose I am an accessory before the fact or
+something--look, there's Mr. Sydney dressed; we're dining early."
+
+Galva rose.
+
+"You'll not forget to-morrow?"
+
+"No, of course I'll not forget to-morrow, duke--it's our last spin."
+
+Remy could never understand why it was that the duke was so
+bad-tempered that night as he dressed him for dinner.  But then Remy
+was not paid to understand the moods of so exalted a personage as the
+Duc de Choleaux Lasuer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THREE HANDS AT POKER
+
+"I remember seeing in a Club I visited last year in Buda, some framed
+hands of cards--remarkable hands that had occurred in the play there.
+It is a pretty custom.  I have often since wished to start a similar
+collection.  Permit me."
+
+And Senor Gabriel Dasso screwed a monocle into a cold and calculating
+eye and crossed over to the card table.
+
+"May I take them?--thanks.  Most extraordinary.  And how much did you
+win, Lieutenant Mozara, on your four kings?"
+
+The young officer addressed nicked the ash from his cigarette and
+glanced carelessly over the pile of notes and gold before him.
+
+"Oh, about four hundred crowns--thereabouts," he answered carelessly.
+
+"Then the fair Julie of the _Casino_ has a rosy future before her
+for--shall we say nearly a week?"
+
+At this a laugh came from the Lieutenant's two opponents, and Dasso
+continued, gathering up the cards as he spoke--
+
+"You're sure, gentlemen, you don't mind.  I'll have them framed with a
+little brass plate with all the particulars.  Let me see, Count, you,
+was it not, who held the full house, aces high too--and you, Captain
+Olalla, the flush--am I right?"
+
+He went over to where a handsome inlaid writing table stood near the
+window and returned with three envelopes.  The players watched idly
+whilst he put five cards into each; afterwards placing the three in a
+larger envelope, which latter he stuck down.  Then, taking a tiny
+fountain pen from the pocket of his white vest, he wrote:--
+
+
+_Three hands at Poker, held by Count Petola, Captain Olalla, and
+Lieutenant Mozara--Friday the fifteenth of January_ 1908.
+
+
+"Many thanks, gentlemen, and a thousand apologies for interrupting your
+game."
+
+Senor Dasso returned to his position by the fire, one arm resting on
+the high mantleboard and letting his monocle fall with a little tinkle
+against his shirt front.  The men at the table tore open another pack
+of cards and resumed their game.
+
+But it was late, and the play became desultory.  Following such an
+exciting hand, the cards ran badly, and after the next "jackpot" the
+Count and Captain Olalla took their leave.
+
+Lieutenant Mozara carried his glass over and joined Dasso, who still
+maintained his position by the fireplace.  He made way for the younger
+man, and--
+
+"A good evening's play, eh, Mozara?"
+
+"So so, but I say, Dasso, was it hardly playing the game to drag Julie
+into it?  I don't like being laughed at."
+
+"Oh, a little chaff is the least one has to pay for one's gallantries."
+
+"I expect you did the same, at my age."
+
+Senor Dasso turned and contemplated his handsome face with its
+iron-grey imperial in the pier-glass before replying.
+
+"Worse, my dear boy, far worse.  San Pietro was not then what it is
+now, but Paris was--Paris--and so was Vienna."
+
+There was silence for a moment, and it was Mozara who first broke it.
+
+"Rather childish isn't it--to keep those cards?  They weren't so
+wonderful, after all; you'll see better at the Club almost any night."
+
+"Possibly--but not so _interesting_."
+
+Something in the elder man's voice made the other look up sharply.  His
+eyes narrowed in his head.
+
+"What do you mean, Dasso--more interesting?"
+
+For answer, Senor Dasso drew up a little table in front of the fire,
+and taking the envelope from his pocket, handed his fountain pen to the
+Lieutenant.
+
+"I don't understand this, Senor."
+
+"It means, my dear lieutenant, that the record I have written is not
+yet complete.  You will finish it to my dictation."
+
+"If this is a joke, Senor----"
+
+"Pardon me, it is no joke.  You will write at my dictation."
+
+"I'm damned if I will--you forget, Senor Dasso, that you----"
+
+"I forget nothing.  I know that I am a guest in your uncle's house.
+Senor Luazo is the soul of honour, and his sister's child should--but
+never mind.  Again I say you will write at my dictation--or you will
+blow out your brains here and now--Oh, no, you don't."
+
+For with a snarling sound the young man had made a dash at the packet,
+but before it could reach the flames a hand closed like steel over his
+wrist.
+
+"You understand me now--eh?"
+
+"Yes, damn you, I understand that you, a guest of my uncle's, dares to
+spy upon me.  I understand that."
+
+"Is there, then, so little difference between a spy and--a cheat?"
+
+Lieutenant Mozara sank into a chair and covered his face with his hands
+for a moment, then he reached out for the pen.
+
+"What is it you want me to write?"
+
+The other thought for a moment, drumming his fingers upon the polished
+surface of the little table.  "How does it end--yes--'_on the fifteenth
+of January_ 1908,' now add--'_The hands were dealt by me, Gaspar
+Mozara.  The cards were provided by me--and I won four hundred crowns.
+God be merciful to me a sinner_.'"
+
+With an oath the young man rose, throwing over the table in his
+agitation.
+
+"I'll see you in he----"
+
+He stopped and gave a little cry as he saw the shining barrel of a
+small revolver pointed at him.
+
+"You--you would murder me, then?"
+
+"Morally, yes, but not physically unless you drive me to it.  I would
+say you shot yourself at being found out.  This," and he tapped the
+little package, "would prove everything; marked cards are the finest of
+evidence."
+
+Then the boy--he was hardly more--was on his knees.  "Why are you doing
+this, Senor Dasso?" he pleaded.  "Before God it's the first time.  You
+knew my mother--I've never harmed you.  I will return the money
+to-morrow.  I--I--wanted it for Julie."
+
+"Yes, I know that, bless her.  It isn't the first time that a woman has
+played my game for me.  There is no mercy in ambition, and _I want
+you_.  I can make use of you.  Oh, your secret is safe with me,
+provided you write as I say."
+
+"And place my honour and my life in your hands for ever."
+
+"Precisely, that is all I want."
+
+Tremblingly the boy looked past the muzzle to the steady hand and up to
+the cruel, thin face.  Then he righted the table, and whilst Dasso held
+the package he wrote.
+
+"And your seal," said his tormentor, when the lieutenant had signed his
+name, and he fetched a stick of black wax from the writing table.  Then
+after Mozara had sealed it with his signet ring, Dasso placed the
+envelope in his pocket and leant back with a half smile.
+
+"And now, my dear lieutenant, for my motive.  Believe me I like you,
+and I have no personal objection to your method of playing poker.  I
+can be frank with you now that I have this," and he tapped the pocket
+over the cards.
+
+"You know what they say here in Corbo, that it was I who engineered the
+affair of fifteen years ago.  They even hint that I took an active part
+in the doings at the palace on that night.  Well, they are not far
+wrong.  It was I who did the majority of the work, seeing that my
+followers faltered at the last moment.  I had too much at stake to risk
+failure.  I had worked hard, believing that the choice of the people
+would fall on me, failing a direct heir.  It did; I was made Dictator,
+and for a few brief weeks I tasted the fruits of power.
+
+"But Spain was stronger than I, and my crime--my political crime--went
+for nothing.  Enrico was placed where I would sit, and now he is at
+last paying the penalty of his licentious and foolish mode of life.
+The King is dying."
+
+For a moment the lieutenant was interested in spite of himself.
+
+"But his nephew will----"
+
+Senor Dasso rose and snapped his fingers.
+
+"That for him.  What do the people think or even know of him, a man who
+has hardly been seen by them, a man who hates San Pietro and all in
+it--including his uncle?  I understand he is in Africa shooting lions
+at this present moment.  When he hears of his uncle's death it will be
+too late."
+
+"But Spain?"
+
+"Spain has her own troubles now, and I have information that a little
+diplomacy is all that is needed.  It is my hour and I will want help--I
+will want dirty work done.  To-night I saw my chance when I noticed
+that your cards were marked.  I took it, as I take all chances."
+
+"What is it you want of me?"
+
+"There will be many things.  First I want you to watch and tell me all
+about these English people, Miss Bax--Baxendale and her Mr. Sydney.  I
+want you to----"
+
+"I will not play the spy in my uncle's house--he has been a father to
+me--more than a father."
+
+"But you _play_--in your uncle's house--how you play is known only to
+you and me--so far.  It's not much I'm asking of you, but much or
+little you'll have to do it.  They visit here a great deal, and your
+task will be easy--and I'll help you with Julie.  Half-past one; I'll
+go now--you'll remember."
+
+Gabriel Dasso descended the broad stairway of Senor Luazo's mansion,
+and was helped into his sable overcoat by the sleepy man-servant at the
+door.  In the courtyard his motor was waiting, but instructing the
+chauffeur to keep him in sight Dasso turned up the collar of his coat
+and stepped out briskly.
+
+It was a lovely night, and the Bay of Lucana gleamed silver beneath the
+moon.  The boulevard that terraced above the beach lay white under the
+cold glare of the arc lamps which threw a delicate tracery of shadow
+from the acacia trees.
+
+The town of Corbo was built on a cliff, or rather a series of little
+cliffs that rose in terraces, upon the highest of which stood the royal
+palace.  Under the gay reign of Enrico I, Corbo had prospered
+exceedingly, and there was but little remaining of the old and quaint
+town of a decade ago.  Modern hotels, rivalling the palace in splendour
+and far exceeding it in comfort, lined the lower boulevard, and the
+Casino lying back in its palm gardens had been erected by a syndicate
+of Russian Jews and had cost a fabulous amount of money.
+
+The lights were still blazing from its myriad windows as Senor Dasso
+made his way along the broad pavement, followed at a respectful
+distance by his car.  There was a slight wind off-shore and little
+bursts of melody came to him at intervals, of a popular waltz played by
+a string band.
+
+For perhaps half-an-hour the man continued to walk up and down, his
+chin sunk deep in his collar, then he raised his hand and the watching
+chauffeur slid noiselessly up to him.
+
+Leaving the lighted thoroughfare the car made its way to the eastern
+end of the town, which lay in darkness.  It was here, in a part that
+still contained some of the buildings of the old town, that Dasso's
+home lay.  It was a large mediaeval-looking structure, more of a castle
+than a house.  When first it had been erected it stood alone, but with
+the growth of the town it had been surrounded, and portions of its
+grounds taken in till now it had the appearance of a giant being
+elbowed and crowded out by pigmies.
+
+Before the massive old gateway the car drew up, and at the sound of the
+brakes the oak doors opened.  Senor Dasso passed in between the two
+footmen, one of whom relieved him of his coat and hat, whilst the other
+shot home the great bolts behind him.
+
+"I'll want nothing more," he said shortly, and crossing the hall
+entered a room on the left.  On the table stood a decanter and a
+syphon.  He mixed himself a drink, then selecting a key from the bunch
+on his chain inserted it in the lock of a small but massive safe that
+was let into the wall by the fireplace.  He took from it a portfolio of
+black leather, and, seating himself near the lights of a branch
+candelabra, unfastened the little strap.
+
+It contained a varied assortment of papers, and Dasso ran through them
+hurriedly until he came to a card bearing a photograph.  This he held
+close to the light and scanned narrowly.
+
+He saw an old silver print of a young and beautiful woman in royal
+robes.  Tall, and of a commanding carriage that savoured somewhat of
+arrogance, the late Queen of San Pietro looked out from the faded
+picture.  For some minutes Senor Dasso gazed at the eyes, looking away
+now and again as though conjuring up some picture to his mind.  Then he
+spoke murmuringly to himself, his eyes fixed on the portrait he held in
+his hand.
+
+"I who knew you better than the others--_I who saw you last of
+all_--can perhaps see more than the others now.  Yes, Queen Elene, your
+eyes have looked at me again to-night--in the flesh"--he laughed
+shortly--"but I did not flinch, Elene; the nerves of Gabriel Dasso are
+as firm to-day as they were fifteen years ago."
+
+For a little while longer he looked, a half smile curling his cruel
+mouth, then he replaced the photograph in the portfolio, putting with
+it the three poker hands of Lieutenant Mozara, and again locked it in
+the safe.
+
+Then taking the candelabra, he ascended the wide oak staircase to his
+chamber.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE LIEUTENANT HONOURS GALVA
+
+The residence which Edward Povey Sydney had chosen for his party
+occupied a central position overlooking the blue waters of the
+Mediterranean, and embracing a fine view of the Bay of Lucana from the
+verdure-clad heights of the western arm to the tiny white lighthouse
+that stood sentinel on the spur of rock to the eastward.
+
+The house itself was modern, having been built five years before
+Edward's arrival by a Cornhill financier, to whom the extradition laws
+of San Pietro offered as much inducement as the climate.  But at the
+end of his first year's residence the call of the joys of London proved
+too strong for the poor man of finance, and the change from the luxury
+of Venta Villa to the hardships of a cell at Dartmoor had been as
+unpleasant as it had been swift.
+
+Whatever may have been the failings of the poor gentleman--and
+doubtless they were many and varied--he had shown a pretty taste in the
+designing and building of Venta Villa and a wise expenditure of his--or
+rather other people's--money.  The house stood high, having the
+appearance of being propped up by a series of little lawns and white
+terraces.  The steps leading from the front portico, widening out as
+they descended, gave upon a square courtyard in which played
+curiously-carved little fountains.  Palms in green tubs lined this
+pathway of steps, and the banks of the lawns were gay with flowering
+shrubs.
+
+Miss Baxendale, looking adorable in an old rose, tailor-made gown, that
+set off the slender lines of her little figure to perfection, stood on
+the top step debating how and where to spend the hour or so before
+_dejeuner_.
+
+It was a glorious morning in late January, and the girl's eyes and
+cheeks glowed with health as she drank in the delicious morning air.
+Below her the promenade was bright with a happy, well-dressed crowd,
+the sprinkling of uniforms adding greatly to the gaiety of the scene.
+Slender victorias and smart dog-carts trotted up and down under the
+acacias, and shapely motors threaded their noiseless way in and out of
+the slower traffic, the sun glinting bravely upon their polished brass
+and silver.
+
+So occupied was the little lady with the novelty and beauty of her
+surroundings, that she did not at first notice the scarlet and black
+figure which had detached itself from the crowd of promenaders and now
+stood trying to attract her attention at the gateway of the lower
+courtyard.  When she did so, she smiled, and waving her long white
+gloves, ran lightly down to him.
+
+It cannot be said that she was in any way attracted to Lieutenant
+Gaspar Mozara, in fact, had she asked herself the question, she would
+have said that she disliked him, but she was gracious to the young
+soldier from a sense of duty to his uncle, for since presenting Mr.
+Baxendale's letter to Senor Luazo, the old aristocrat had done
+everything in his power to make their stay on the island a pleasant one.
+
+As to the true object of their coming to San Pietro, Galva had been
+willing, as in Paris, to let things in the mean time shape themselves.
+Senor Luazo also, when put in possession of all the facts, advised
+caution.
+
+There seemed to her something horrible in the thought of "plotting" in
+this gay little kingdom.  To her the name of "plot" meant bloodshed and
+hardships, and the world in all its beauty was so new, and seemed so
+good to her, that she was loath to endanger her newly-acquired
+paradise.  She had even told Edward that she had no immediate desire to
+be a queen of anywhere, let alone San Pietro--life in the little villa,
+overlooking the bay, seemed to her far more desirable than existence in
+the rather ugly royal palace on the hills behind the town--the palace
+with its long rows of square windows, that reminded her of a workhouse.
+And in her own heart she was looking forward to the visit to Paris in a
+year, and her thoughts ran on the Duc de Choleaux Lasuer more often
+than Mr. Sydney or Anna suspected.  She told herself that she did not
+want to take that journey as a queen, with a crowd of irritating
+courtiers and maids-of-honour.
+
+"I suppose this is the height of the season, Lieutenant Mozara," she
+said, indicating the butterfly throng moving round them as they made
+their way along the boulevard; "how happy and gay they all seem, and
+what a happy and gay little kingdom you have here--laughter, laughter
+everywhere."
+
+"Yes, Miss Baxendale, it is the season--we have a long one.  We are
+always happy here; it is only in the height of summer that it is quiet,
+and then there's nobody here to see it.  All these villas are empty
+then, and everybody who is anybody is in London or Paris.  When the
+king dies, however----"
+
+"Why, is King Enrico very ill?"
+
+"Surely you have heard, Miss Baxendale, that it is only a matter of
+months, perhaps weeks.  There will be trouble then, I'm afraid.  You
+see, the heir-apparent is not popular.  It will be the chance for a
+strong man then."
+
+"But this heir--is he here, in Corbo?"
+
+"Here?  he's never here.  It's little he troubles about San Pietro.
+They say he's in Africa now, shooting lions or something silly.  The
+man who keeps his throne warm for him will hardly welcome him when he
+does come back."
+
+"And who will this man be--this man who keeps his throne warm?"
+
+The young soldier turned and pointed with his cane to where Senor
+Dasso's house rose, gaunt and forbidding, above the roofs and gables of
+the old town.
+
+"Dasso, undoubtedly--and with him will rise others.  I am a friend of
+Dasso's," he added meaningly.
+
+"Which means----?"
+
+The lieutenant made an expressive gesture with his shoulders.
+
+"Who knows?  A dukedom perhaps"; then, as he looked at her, "I shall
+have to be looking out for a duchess."
+
+The girl laughed, and gazed out over the sea.
+
+"She will be a lucky woman," she said carelessly.
+
+For a little while the smart figure in its astrakhan tunic and scarlet
+riding-breeches walked on beside Galva in silence.  During the two
+months of their acquaintance, Lieutenant Mozara had found himself
+irresistibly attracted by this beautiful girl from England, and the
+task imposed upon him during the last week by Senor Dasso had been
+irksome and distasteful in the extreme.  Since the eventful night of
+the marked cards the two men had not met, but Dasso would soon be
+getting impatient, and Mozara had during the last few days learnt much
+respecting Miss Baxendale's presence in San Pietro, and he suspected
+more.
+
+He found himself between two stools, his fear of Dasso and the
+unbounded ambition that his suspicions of Galva's parentage had roused
+in him.  As the accepted suitor of the girl by his side he would be in
+a strong position--strong enough, perhaps, to defy his enemy.  But he
+told himself he must speak before her secret was known, it would be
+impossible after.
+
+These thoughts ran quickly through his brain as they walked along the
+crowded promenade.  Then, impetuous as ever, he bent his head until his
+lips all but touched a tendril of dark hair that had strayed from under
+the fascinating toque that Galva wore.
+
+"You think so, really, Miss Baxendale, that she will be a lucky woman.
+Will _you_ be she?"
+
+In a moment the little face became white and set.
+
+"Lieutenant Mozara!"
+
+"Is it so strange, then, that I should have learnt to love you?  We of
+the South do not hesitate to speak where our hearts are concerned.  I
+ask you, is it strange?"
+
+"I--I--don't know how to answer you, lieutenant, I only know
+that--that----Oh!  I didn't expect this."
+
+"Do you dislike me, Miss Baxendale?"
+
+"Dislike--oh no, but I do not love you."
+
+"And you could never do so?"
+
+The girl paused in her walk and faced the young soldier.  "This
+conversation is distasteful to me, Lieutenant Mozara.  If you will have
+an answer, it is that I could never look upon you except as a friend."
+
+A look of anger came into Mozara's narrow eyes.
+
+"That sounds final," he said rather nastily; "there is some one else,
+then?"
+
+"You have no right to say that," and Galva thought again of a certain
+nobleman and of delightful rides in the glades of Fontainebleu.
+
+"Pardon me, Miss Baxendale, I have offended you."
+
+"Offended--no, but I am afraid you have put a stop to a very pleasant
+friendship.  These walks will be impossible now, won't they?"
+
+The girl smiled a sad little smile and went on: "I have some shopping
+to do, lieutenant, and that street up there looks promising.  Do you
+know, a woman can tell a shop miles away."
+
+She held out her hand, and in a moment she was gone, leaving Lieutenant
+Gaspar Mozara with anger in his heart.
+
+"So it must be the other way, my lady; Gaspar Mozara does not ask
+twice."  He said this between set teeth, and hailing a passing fiacre,
+gave the direction of Senor Dasso's house in the old town.
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+Dasso was sitting reading in the oak-panelled library.  It was a
+dignified apartment, low ceilinged and sombre in colouring.  The
+firelight played richly on the dark red hangings and on the pewter
+which stood on the low bookcases.  In shadowy corners stood suits of
+armour, with here and there a choice bronze statue.
+
+The ex-Dictator put aside the book and rose as the lieutenant was
+announced, and held out his hand with a show of greeting.
+
+"I have been expecting you," he said.
+
+Gaspar Mozara drew a chair up to face his host, and threw himself into
+it with an oath.  Dasso looked his inquiries.
+
+"Expecting me, have you?  It was useless my worrying you, senor, until
+I had news."
+
+Senor Dasso rose and put his hand on the young man's shoulder.
+
+"Now look here, Gaspar, there's no need for you to be surly.  There are
+times ahead in San Pietro, and you should be honoured to think that I
+have chosen you to work with me.  Oh, I know you are thinking of those
+cards--they are just my safeguard, nothing more, against treachery.  A
+hand such as I am playing does not allow of throwing away a single
+trick, of missing a single chance.  Work with me, Gaspar, and forget
+that you ever played poker."
+
+A manservant entered and placed refreshment on the table and
+noiselessly withdrew.
+
+Dasso poured out Madeira into two thin goblets of Venetian glass and
+handed one to the young man, who stood looking into the fire, seeing in
+the glowing coals the disdainful face of Galva Baxendale.  He stood up
+with a clanking of spurs on the polished oak floor and took the glass.
+
+"To Dasso," he said, with a reckless laugh; "To King Gabriel the First."
+
+He drained the goblet, then: "You may burn the cards, Dasso, as I have
+burned my boats.  Heart and soul I am with you, and any work in your
+cause I will do, for it is my cause, too, now.  And the more devilish
+the work the better I shall like it.  My fiacre is outside, Dasso; I
+will come again this evening.  My news can hold till then; I am taking
+Julie to lunch at Amato's."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+IN THE CATHEDRAL AT CORBO
+
+Shopping was very far from the thoughts of Galva Baxendale as she made
+her way up the street that ran at right angles to the promenade.
+Tumultuous thoughts they were, in which the figures of Lieutenant
+Mozara and the Duc de Choleaux Lasuer played important parts.
+
+She must have walked a considerable distance, for when she glanced at
+the tiny watch at her wrist she saw that it was eleven o'clock.  At the
+same moment the sonorous chimes of a clock reached her, and glancing up
+she saw, between the gables of the houses at the end of the street, the
+white facade of Corbo Cathedral showing brightly in the sunlight.
+
+It had been her first thought on arriving in San Pietro to pay a visit
+to the tombs of her ill-fated father and mother.  Never having known
+them, she could not be expected to feel a very poignant or present
+grief, but the sadness of the story made a deep impression, and at
+times she tried to tell herself that within the storehouse of her
+memory there was a corner in which a black-bearded man, a-glitter with
+scarlet and gold, had place.  A fancy, doubtless, and one that would
+have had no existence had she never left her Cornish home.  But the
+knowledge that she had been born in the palace behind the town, helped
+the illusion, an illusion of a father, and she grappled it to her soul
+with all the strength of her loving nature.
+
+Edward Sydney had, however, reasoning with the brain of your true
+conspirator, been firm.  There was, to his mind, a grave risk to the
+living in a too demonstrative reverence for the dead.  It is true he
+had agreed to one visit to the tombs, as ordinary tourists, and Galva
+gave a little shudder at the recollection.
+
+She had looked through tear-dimmed eyes at the marble effigies of the
+monarchs, at the stern cameo of her father, and the cold beauty of her
+mother.  In the latter figure the sculptor had with a cunning hand
+suggested the form of a little child beneath the drapery at the
+breasts.  Galva had listened as in a dream to the little black-robed
+sacristan, whose duty it was to show the burial-place to visitors, as
+he had gabbled through the history of the tragedy.  He described
+minutely the attack upon the palace and told of how the king and queen
+met their deaths.  The baby princess Miranda had her share, too, in the
+history, and it was evident that no suspicion had ever come into the
+mind of the little sacristan that the body of the princess had not
+indeed been buried with the mother.
+
+Galva noticed that the narrator carefully avoided mentioning the names
+of any who had taken part in the attack, and she found it hard to
+believe that such scenes could have ever taken place in this kingdom of
+gaiety and pleasure.  There would have been a grim humour almost in
+this listening to the details of her own death when an infant, were the
+circumstances less pitiful.  She had dropped a gold piece into the box
+for the masses for the dead, which the sacristan noticed, and he looked
+curiously at this pretty little tourist who gave so generously.
+
+Then, there had been nothing to tell them from the ordinary
+sight-seers, and it was the only visit that Edward had thought
+expedient.  And now, finding herself alone, she felt an uncontrollable
+desire to enter the cathedral and pray for a little while.  She would
+not go against her guardian's wish, but would be content to kneel in
+the great nave and look through the oak screen that divided the
+mausoleum of the Estratos from the main body of the church.
+
+The cathedral stood on the edge of the old part of the town, and Galva
+was struck by the difference in her surroundings.  Apart from a group
+of green-veiled American tourists, who, guide-book in hand, were gazing
+up at the famous rose window over the central porch, she seemed alone
+with the natives of San Pietro.  She looked in astonishment at the poor
+houses, with their broken roofs, and their windows stuffed with rags
+and brown paper, at the mean little shops and at the dirtiness and
+poverty-stricken look of the people.  Little dark-eyed urchins, filthy
+in the extreme, rolled and played in the gutters unchecked by the
+untidy women who idled and gossiped in the doorways.  The men loafing
+at the street corners were a lazy-looking set of ruffians, and the
+whole aspect was most depressing.
+
+As Galva ascended the steps of the building between the rows of ragged
+and crippled beggars who daily congregated there to expose their
+miseries to the charitably inclined, a conviction came to her that all
+this hopeless poverty was the real result of the rule of the dissipated
+old monarch who lay dying up at the Palace.  The new town of Corbo with
+its palatial hotels and wide boulevards was a whited sepulchre, behind
+which the sores of the true San Pietro festered in hiding.
+
+As she walked slowly up the high-roofed nave she told herself that she
+was doing wrong to shirk her destiny, and that in the joys of Paris and
+Corbo she was apt to forget that she was God's anointed, and that these
+people were hers.  The royal blood of the Estratos leaped in her veins
+as her duty was so plainly shown to her, and she took from her little
+handbag a rosary--for Galva had been brought up by Anna Paluda in the
+true Catholic faith--and registered a vow that with the Blessed
+Virgin's help she would be the salvation of her people, and would act
+to the utmost in her power in the high position to which she had been
+called.
+
+She was in an ecstasy as she stood before the oak screen and let the
+ivory and rosewood beads slip through her little fingers.  The sunlight
+pierced the emblazonry of the window set high above the tombs, and
+threw a pure orange stream of radiance upon the sculptured image of the
+babe at the breast, and the girl watching with parted lips took it for
+an omen.
+
+Then as her sight grew more accustomed to the vague dimness of the
+cathedral she started and gazed into the gloom at the foot of her
+mother's sarcophagus.  Dimly outlined against the tesselated pavement
+knelt the black-robed figure of a woman, a woman who, as she watched,
+rose to her feet and looking round timidly placed a spray of white
+blossoms full in the orange light.
+
+With compressed lips and a heart bursting with compassion Galva drew
+back into the shadow of a little chapel as Anna Paluda, walking with
+bowed head, passed her and left the cathedral.
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+It had been arranged that Senor Luazo and his nephew should dine that
+evening at Venta Villa, and Galva looked forward with no little
+trepidation to re-encountering the amorous lieutenant.
+
+As she entered the drawing-room where Edward and Anna awaited the
+coming of their guests, the long mirror facing the door and between the
+two French windows showed her a picture of a radiant girl in a simple
+robe of a soft clinging blue material and with dark hair coiled
+turban-wise around a shapely head.
+
+Edward looked up as she entered and smiled his admiration.  He was fast
+growing accustomed to his changed mode of life, and he was beginning to
+take as a matter of course things which a few months ago he scarcely
+knew existed.
+
+It was very pleasant to be standing there on the white bearskin rug in
+front of the fire waiting to extend the hand of welcome to Senor Luazo
+and Lieutenant Mozara.  He smiled to himself grimly as he thought what
+either of these distinguished personages would think if they could look
+back a while and see a bowed little figure shuffling across London
+Bridge.
+
+Seated in a low wicker chair Anna Paluda was watching with folded hands
+the flickering of the firelight on the Dutch tiles of the hearth.  She
+looked very dignified in her black silk dress--Anna never wore
+colours--relieved by a touch of Honiton lace at throat and wrists.
+
+The room was small, cosily so.  The carpets and curtains were of a rich
+terra-cotta and the furniture was brocaded in a dull yellow.  Delicate
+china showed richly in the shadowy recesses of a cabinet, and the
+little cluster of electric bulbs shaded in yellow silk gave a soft
+light.  The two long windows, reaching to the floor, looked like panels
+of blue-black velvet in which the lights of the yachts anchored in the
+bay gleamed like diamonds.  One could catch a glimpse also of a balcony
+on which were pots of shrubs and little green painted tables.
+
+Galva was relieved to find that Mozara greeted her as usual.  In fact,
+he was so attentive to her during dinner that she found herself
+wondering if she had not taken his remarks of the morning too
+seriously, and whether he had not been in fun half the time.
+
+The dinner, well served and admirably cooked, was a success, and it was
+about ten o'clock when Mozara made an excuse to leave them, pleading
+another appointment.  Galva had hoped that he wished the episode of the
+morning to be forgotten, but as she stood by the drawing-room door
+bidding him "good-night" he touched on the subject.
+
+"Did you find the shop you wanted, Miss Baxendale?"
+
+She felt the colour come to her cheeks, but the soldier was waiting for
+an answer.
+
+"No, I'm afraid not--it was rather a disappointing morning."
+
+"It was to me," he said; "but we are friends, I hope, Miss Baxendale,
+eh?  Our appointment for to-morrow holds good, I hope?"  And Galva had
+looked serious for a moment, then smiled sunnily in answer.
+
+Once clear of Venta Villa, the lieutenant turned, and the arc lamps
+showed the cunning ferocity of his sallow face as he shook his fist at
+the house he had just left.
+
+"_Friends_!" he hissed.  "Yes, my work will be easier if we are
+friends."
+
+Then he hurried on to keep his appointment with Dasso.
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+After Galva and Anna had retired, Edward sat smoking with his guest in
+the little library of the villa.  He thought it a good opportunity to
+talk over the state of affairs, and he opened by remarking on the
+rumours of the king's health that had been rife in Corbo the last few
+days.
+
+The old gentleman stroked his long white beard meditatively for a
+moment.
+
+"It cannot be long now," he said at last; "the good God ease his
+passing.  The princess must hold herself in readiness, for at the
+moment the breath leaves the body of Enrico, Dasso, who has many
+friends in the army, will hasten to the Palace, and will cause himself
+to be proclaimed king.  I know that, in this, he has a secret
+understanding with Spain herself.  Miranda--I mean Galva--must be there
+also, Mr. Sydney; the people must choose."
+
+"And what will Spain say to that?"
+
+"Spain, my dear sir, is powerless where an Estrato is concerned.
+Enrico's nephew even must bow to her claim.  Believe me there will be
+no difficulty; but it is better to be in time and not to allow Dasso to
+mount the throne at all.  It might be harder to dislodge him once
+there, than we imagine."
+
+The old man paused for a moment and drew his chair nearer to Edward.
+
+"I saw him look at her very hard that evening they met at my house.
+They say," his voice sank to a whisper, "that Gabriel Dasso's was the
+hand that struck down the royal victims that night fifteen years ago.
+It is said that he and one other alone of all the band of conspirators
+went right through with it.  That other, a Senor Orates, shot himself
+within a week."
+
+"And the people--do they know this?"
+
+Senor Luazo made an expressive gesture with his hands.
+
+"Fifteen years is a long time, Mr. Sydney, and the people of San Pietro
+have a short memory.  There are a few of us old ones, we who knew the
+king and his queen, who do not forget.  We have been unconsciously
+awaiting this day for fifteen years.  I wonder if Dasso saw any
+likeness when he looked at her?  There _is_ a likeness, elusive indeed,
+but at times I see the eyes of Queen Elene as I have seen them look on
+those she liked.  If Dasso saw it too, he will be dangerous.  I would
+like to come to an issue with Gabriel; regicide that he is, he is
+received everywhere.  His crime has never been brought home to him, and
+in any case is regarded as a political one.  It has made my blood boil,
+senor, to see him at my table."
+
+Long after Senor Luazo had left, Edward sat gazing into the dying fire.
+The windows of the library looked inland, and by turning his head he
+could see the row of lights in the Palace windows.  He thought of the
+dying king and of how the affair that looked at first like being a
+comedy, might at any moment now develop into a tragedy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+THE PLOT
+
+The doorway of Gabriel Dasso's house stood open and the gleam of yellow
+light that cut into the darkness showed old Pieto the groom holding by
+the bridle a horse that seemed by its steaming hide to have been hard
+ridden and but newly arrived.  Lieutenant Mozaro slackened his steps as
+he mounted the hill, asking himself what visitor this could be that
+rode in haste to Dasso at so late an hour.
+
+Remembering the business of his own visit he drew back into the shadow
+of the stable yard of a little _posada_ that stood nearly opposite.  It
+was striking eleven down in the town and the inn had done its business
+of the day, and, save for a little square of light in an upper storey,
+was in darkness.  Gaspar leant against the gate-post and watched the
+horse standing with outstretched neck and drooping head, and the form
+of the groom silhouetted against the glow of the hall.  Old Pieto
+looked now and again, with a show of impatience, within the house,
+thinking, no doubt, of the interrupted supper awaiting him below stairs.
+
+Perhaps a quarter of an hour passed--it seemed longer to the man
+waiting in the stable yard--when the booted and spurred figure of a
+young man came out upon the doorstep.  He stood there a moment drawing
+on his riding-gloves, and turned and spoke to the master of the house
+who stood behind him, just within the hall.  The young rider took the
+reins from old Pieto and swung himself gracefully into the saddle.  He
+bent down for a final word or two, then brought his horse sharply round
+and with a dig of the heels set him at the hill that led inland.
+
+Mozaro was about to leave his retreat when he heard the window of the
+inn open.  From his point of vantage in the shadow, he saw a head
+emerge--a round bullet-shaped head that took the attitude of listening.
+It remained motionless until the clatter of the horse's hoofs upon the
+cobbled street died away, then it turned a face full upon the spot
+where he stood, and Mozaro gave a start as he remembered that he had
+not put out his cigar.  The face was a strange one to him, and he knew
+that Detti, the host of the Three Lilies, did not entertain many
+guests.  Moreover, it was not the face of a native of San Pietro.  A
+moment the stranger regarded him fixedly, then with a muttering in a
+language that was certainly not Spanish, but was undoubtedly a curse,
+the window was slammed shut and the light extinguished.
+
+The lieutenant turned towards the house opposite.  Old Pieto had
+disappeared, but Dasso still stood upon the doorstep looking anxiously
+along the road towards the town.  As Mozaro came out of the shadow he
+gave a start, then greeted him eagerly.  He drew him inside and closed
+the stout oaken door.
+
+"There has been great news to-night," he said, and led the way to the
+library.
+
+The two men seated themselves at the table on which was strewn a few
+official-looking papers.
+
+"Enrico is worse, Gaspar; I have just heard from the Palace that he may
+go at any time.  The doctors wonder at his vitality."
+
+"Threatened men live long."
+
+"Yes, and there's another proverb, I believe, about it being hard to
+kill a weed--Enrico may laugh at the doctors yet.  But," went on Dasso,
+"we must be in readiness.  Miss Baxendale must be secured or silenced."
+
+Lieutenant Mozara looked straight in the elder man's eyes.
+
+"You mean the Princess Miranda, Dasso."
+
+The other looked up quickly.
+
+"Ah, then you have heard?"
+
+"I have heard enough to know that.  I have played the spy well," and
+the sallow face lit up with an evil grin.  "I have suspected the facts
+for two days now."
+
+He drew his chair closer to Dasso's.
+
+"And what is more, they are waiting for the same signal as you are.
+When the guns at the Palace boom out the death--well--it'll be the
+devil take the hindmost."
+
+Gabriel Dasso rose and paced nervously up and down the room, biting his
+moustache.  It seemed to him that here was a grave danger, and he
+cursed the luck that had brought Miranda to life at the time when his
+plans seemed so prosperous--when success seemed assured.  Then a
+thought occurred to him and he pulled up sharp before the man who was
+sitting drumming his fingers on the table.
+
+"It seems to me, Gaspar, that you have taken up my cudgels very
+thoroughly.  Your expression when you spoke of her Royal Highness
+wasn't a very pretty one.  You don't like the lady, eh?"
+
+"No, curse her--I don't."
+
+"So.  That's how the land lies.  That accounts for your keeping your
+suspicions to yourself for two days.  It seems to me," and his voice
+grew hard, "that Lieutenant Gaspar Mozara has had a fish of his own to
+fry."
+
+"You can keep your taunts, Gabriel.  I neither understand them nor
+appreciate them.  I am with you in this matter, body and soul--does not
+that suffice?"
+
+"It is everything, my dear boy.  We won't quarrel.  Hate is a good
+weapon.  I hope you have not put the princess out of temper with you?"
+
+"Miranda and I are the best of _friends_.  I thought it better that we
+should be.  We motor together to-morrow morning.  Doesn't that suggest
+anything to you, Gabriel?"
+
+"My dear Gaspar, it suggests so many things that I'm bewildered."
+
+"Will the news of Enrico's relapse reach the town to-night?"
+
+"It's hardly likely--my source of information is a private one."
+
+"I'm calling for the lady at nine.  The news mustn't reach Venta Villa
+before then, or she will be kept in readiness."
+
+For some little time neither of the men spoke, then Dasso leant over
+and whispered the plot that had occurred to his fertile and evil brain.
+
+"You will call with the car at nine, as arranged.  After a spin twice
+past the villa to allay any suspicion of the girl being long away, you
+will suggest a run to Alcador.  The road is a good one, and you can
+open out to any speed.  About ten miles out you will see--no doubt you
+know it--a castle, one tower of which shows up from a little forest of
+pines.
+
+"You will here pretend that something is amiss with the engine.  You
+will descend, and while she is watching you at the bonnet, a man will
+enter the tonneau from behind.  A chloroform pad will do the rest.
+Pieto and his wife will be at the castle, which belongs to a distant
+relative of mine, to receive the guest."
+
+"An excellent plan, senor, but what will they say to me?"
+
+"That's only the first half of the plan.  You will turn the car and run
+back to where four miles from here the road winds ledgewise, round the
+western spur of the Yeldo hills.  There is a low stone wall here, and
+the curves are dangerous.  You will stop here and alight, and set the
+empty car at full speed at this wall.  It will give way easily, and the
+river, which runs at this spot in a series of falls and rapids, will do
+all that is needed in the way of evidence."
+
+Mozara opened his mouth to speak, but Dasso held up a silencing hand,
+and went on: "You will then throw over the cloak and hat that the girl
+was wearing, and walk on to a cottage which you will see a little
+nearer the town.  Here you will be met by a friend of mine who will
+transfigure you.  Immediately afterwards a cart will leave the cottage
+containing poor Lieutenant Mozara.  His arm will be in plaster of
+Paris, and his clothing will be torn to ribbons and blood-stained.  A
+bandage will be wound around his poor head."  Senor Dasso laughed.
+"His will have been a narrow escape.
+
+"Search will be made and the wrecked car discovered.  Sympathy will go
+out to the friends of the late Miss Baxendale, whose body will be
+stated to be in one of the deep holes which abound in the River
+Ardentella.  And so for the second time this person's death will be
+announced."
+
+"And what will you do with her ultimately?"
+
+"In that we must be guided by circumstances.  I see no reason why, if
+the lady be reasonable, she should not in the long run go free, if
+not--" he shrugged his shoulders--"I would be generous to her in the
+way of money, and once on the throne I fear nothing.  Spain will see to
+that."
+
+"And what of her friends?"
+
+"I'll find a way to crush that worm Sydney, while as for the woman--I
+don't know who she is, a paid companion, no doubt--I don't think she
+counts."
+
+To Mozara the scheme sounded good.  He was not at all anxious to play
+the part of invalid for long, but, as Dasso pointed out, his injuries
+could turn out less serious than was at first supposed.  Again, he did
+not like losing the car.  But it was revenge that smoothed the way for
+him.  He thought of the proud disdain that had shown in Miranda's face
+that morning, and it was enough.
+
+An hour later old Pieto and a sour-looking woman, who, by the
+discourtesy he showed her, was presumably his wife, set out in a
+covered cart and made their way inland.  Again, a little later, two men
+who had spent an hour with Senor Dasso left and took the same road.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+AT CASA LUZO
+
+Leading out of the town of Corbo, the Alcador road ascends steeply to
+the Palace Square, where, leaving the royal residence on its left, it
+winds away over a stretch of desolate brown moorland and cuts its way
+through the Yeldo Hills at the Quinlon Pass.  Once through, the red
+fluted roofs of Alcador and the yellow belfry of its church lie spread
+out before one.
+
+And all the way to the hills the road has for its constant companion
+the blue Ardentella, running first this side and then that.  The many
+bridges where the road crosses the river are quaint old structures, the
+architecture of which plainly points to their origin being Moorish.
+
+The casual traveller journeying on this road would pass the Casa Luzo
+without being aware of its existence.  At one time the tower showed
+above the trees, a landmark for miles around, but that was long ago,
+and, as the stout stonework had crumbled into ruin, so had the forest
+spread in density, so that there was now little likelihood of the
+jagged tower that mingled with the tree tops being noted.  True, there
+was a gateway, but there were no gates hanging on its hinges; only two
+gaunt pillars of stone, their bases hidden in a rank mass of herbage.
+
+Count Ribero, in whose family the castle had been since Alfonso VI
+reigned over Spain, never visited his ancestral home, the gay young
+nobleman preferring the little villa on the shore at San Sebastian
+which had come to him from his mother.  Dasso, therefore, by his
+distant cousin's invitation made free with the place for all purposes
+without compunction.
+
+At his own expense he had made a few rooms inhabitable, and the hunting
+parties and carousals which he had held there had been until lately
+very popular amongst the gilded youth of the San Pietro army.
+
+But of late years Dasso's orgies had been less frequent.  Political
+ambitions had taken up the time of that enterprising gentleman, and the
+rooms were beginning to show the effects of non-usage.  Large patches
+of damp were making their appearance on walls and ceilings, and the
+somewhat gaudy hangings and furniture were fast becoming the happy
+hunting ground of moth.
+
+Old Pieto felt a thrill of superstitious awe as he turned the key in
+the massive lock.  A chill wind pierced him as he threw open the great
+door and stepped into the gloomy hall.  The lantern he carried threw
+shaking patches of ochre light on the flagged floor, and an army of
+rats and spiders scampered away at the approach of this intruder in
+their domains.  One great fellow stood his ground, regarding the
+intruder with beady black eyes in which the rays of the lantern touched
+little pin points of flame.  With a cry old Pieto flung the heavy
+door-key, and, squeaking, old King Rat disappeared.
+
+A woman with a thin wrinkled face had been peering over the old man's
+shoulder, and now she followed him timidly into the hall, holding her
+skirts well above her ankles and looking fearsomely at the desolation
+around her.  On her arm she carried a large basket, which she now set
+down at the foot of the staircase.
+
+Old Pieto remembered the last occasion when he had been there, some two
+months ago, when a supper had been organized by Dasso to celebrate the
+benefit of La Belle Espanzo at the Casino, and as he opened the door of
+the dining-hall the scene came back to him in full force.
+
+The long oaken table from which the cloth had been half snatched was
+still littered with the _debris_ of the feast.  The old manservant knew
+that he ought to have cleared it away, but it was a long journey from
+Corbo, and it had been put off.  A tall epergne in the centre of the
+table had been overturned, and flowers, yellow and brittle, were
+tumbled together with the wrinkled mummies of fruit, and lay in a
+scattered heap on the oak floor.  He remembered how the young bloods
+had toasted the lovely dancer, drinking champagne from her slipper.
+The little high-heeled satin drinking vessel still lay on the table,
+shapeless now and stained with wine.  Pieto noticed that a giant spider
+web stretched from the dainty rosette of the shoe to the back of one of
+the carved chairs.
+
+The sight of the disarray of wine bottles suggested the cellar to the
+old man, and, still carrying the lantern, he descended the broken stone
+steps at the end of the passage, reappearing almost immediately with a
+couple of tall thin-necked flasks.
+
+He called his wife and bade her make a fire in the open grate, and soon
+the blaze shone merrily on the tarnished silver and glass on the table
+and threw weird and flickering shadows into the corners of the dark
+panelled walls.
+
+The worthy couple, with chairs drawn up to the genial warmth, attacked
+the bottles gratefully.  It was no joke for the master to pack them off
+to this spot in the dead of night.  The journey had been a long and
+wearisome one, they had had to walk the last quarter of a mile, and it
+had rained a little as they came through the forest.
+
+But there was work to do and to do quickly.  Pieto was content to
+superintend operations, and he issued orders from his armchair, while
+Teresa cleared the _debris_ from the table.  The old fellow, warmed by
+the wine he had taken, entertained his wife with reminiscences of the
+feast.  He rubbed his skinny hands together as he talked.
+
+"Ah, that was a night, Teresa--the wine flowed like water--the best in
+the cellars, too.  And the beautiful Espanzo--divine!" the old
+reprobate kissed the grimy tips of his fingers, "blue-black hair, and a
+mouth like a splash of wine--and--her eyes as she danced!"
+
+The old woman seemed not to hear him, working steadily, piling the
+broken glass and fruit into the table-cloth and tying up the four
+corners.  Her husband looked shrewdly at her from beneath his shaggy
+brows and rambled on.
+
+"On the table, too, she danced, all among the wine and the flowers--and
+me, too.  The gentlemen made me, old Pieto, dance with her, and, as we
+danced, she sang the tune--how did it go?--yes," and the ancient broke
+out into a wheezing treble of a weird and sensuous melody, ending in a
+harsh chuckle as his wife left the room, taking her bundle with her.
+
+Candles had been set upright in the sconces and shed a soft light on
+the handsome old apartment, to which duster and broom soon gave a look
+of respectability.  The old woman paused and surveyed her work.
+
+"And where is she to be put?" she asked the figure by the fire, who,
+with goblet in hand, had fallen again to his humming.
+
+"Eh--oh," and he pointed to the ceiling.  "Above here, I suppose, for
+the present--the Duchess room.  Hurry, Teresa, it'll be daylight soon.
+Put a fire up there, the room will be damp--ugh!"
+
+"Ah, you can shiver, Pieto.  Why don't you work and get warmth into
+your old blood?  Get me a few logs from the outhouse, won't you?  I
+don't like rats."
+
+"Ay, I'll do that for you.  Get you upstairs.  I'll bring them up."
+
+Pieto relit the lantern, and his shuffling footsteps died away down the
+stone passage.  There was a creak of rusty bolts and a gust of the
+chill air that comes before the dawn flickered the candles in the
+dining-room.
+
+Outside, the old man made his way across a paved court-yard, the stones
+of which were worn and cracked with age, and little blades of tender
+green showed between the crevices.  One side of the yard was
+colonnaded, and the moonlight cut clear designs of shadow among the
+lichen-covered pillars.  On the other three sides a high stone wall
+separated the house and yard from the forest.  Pieto could see the
+sharp silhouettes of the tall pine tops against the star-strewn sky.
+The rain had ceased, and there was a delicious freshness in the air,
+and the woodland was alive with the tiny noises of the night.
+
+A bat zigzagged before the man's eyes, and he hurried on his errand.
+He collected an armful of logs from a shed in the corner and hastened
+back to the fire.  He did not forget to pay another visit to the cellar
+on his way.
+
+By the time Teresa's labours were finished birds were calling to their
+mates, and the higher branches of the trees were flushed with the dawn.
+The dining-room showed ghostly as she entered it.  Her husband was
+still before the nearly dead fire, his arms hanging inertly on either
+side, the finger-tips touching the floor.  A broken glass lay at his
+feet, and the red wine had run into a little pool.  The rays of the
+newly-risen sun struggled through the escutcheoned panes and cast a
+variegated sheen over all, and a candle which had outlasted its fellows
+shone with a pale sickly light.  Teresa laid a heavy hand on the
+shoulder of her sleeping lord.
+
+"Pig," she said.
+
+A snore was strangled at its birth, and Pieto sat up, rubbing his eyes.
+
+"I've been asleep," he said, as though the fact were one that called
+for amazement.
+
+"You've been drunk, you mean.  Get out to the yard, man, and to the
+pump, and go and lie down on the bed up-stairs.  A nice thing," she
+went on, "if our visitor arrives and those who bring her find you like
+this.  I still have work to do."
+
+The old man looked sullen but did not answer.  He ran his tongue round
+his parched mouth and did as he was bid, while his wife, upon whom this
+unwonted night-work seemed to have little or no effect, busied herself
+in the kitchen.
+
+It was about mid-day when a cautious tap at the window brought her
+hastily to the front of the building.  Lieutenant Mozara, his face
+white and drawn, stood leaning against one of the stone pillars that
+supported the portico.
+
+"Is all ready?  Where's Pieto?"
+
+Murmuring some answer, Teresa ran back into the house, and in a moment
+returned with her husband.  He was but half-awake, but at the sight of
+the lieutenant he pulled himself together.  He saluted the officer, and
+together the two men ran through the belt of woodland which lay between
+the house and the road.
+
+Gaspar had done his work well.  The figure of Galva Baxendale lay
+stretched out on the little ribbon of grass that ran beside the road.
+The car stood vibrating beside her, and with an oath Gaspar ran to it
+and shut off the engine.  Then without further delay the men lifted the
+unconscious girl and made their way back to the house.
+
+The lieutenant waited only long enough to drain the glass of wine
+Teresa had poured out for him.  His hand shook so that the liquor
+splashed upon the door-stone, and the glass rattled against his teeth
+as he drank.
+
+It was evident that the old couple had had their instructions, for
+hardly a word passed between Mozara and them during the whole time.  In
+the rest of the programme Pieto and his wife knew their parts.
+
+When the captive was safely locked away in the room above, they set
+about making preparations for the meals of the day.  Now and again the
+woman ascended the creaking stairs and listened at the door of the
+Duchess room.  They had been given to understand that the effect of the
+chloroform would take some few hours to wear off, but dusk fell and
+still the victim gave no sign.  Then night came down on the castle, and
+in the dining-room the candles were lit and shone on the sallow faces
+of the two old people who, with ears nervously strained, still waited
+and listened.
+
+A night bird screamed in the forest behind them, echoing eerily around
+the still castle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+EDWARD SHOOTS AN ARROW INTO THE AIR
+
+In a state of the deepest dejection Edward Povey listened to the story.
+At times during its recital he would raise his head and look at Gaspar
+Mozara.  The lieutenant, when Edward's head was bent again, eyed his
+hearer narrowly.
+
+He had told his tale well--circumstantially and yet with the feeling
+that Anna Paluda, who, sitting rigidly in her chair, never once removed
+her doubting eyes from his face, did not believe a word he was saying.
+He found it increasingly difficult to marshal his facts under the fire
+of those steady watching eyes.  Hitherto, this grim lady in black had
+held no importance for him, but now, as he looked at her and felt her
+presence, she took on a new individuality.  To Mozara it seemed as
+though an unconsidered pawn belonging to an opponent had crept
+unobserved up the chess-board of his plans and had become suddenly a
+force to be reckoned with.
+
+The lieutenant was between two stools.  He had told his tale, and was
+now anxious to be gone, but he felt that no sooner did he leave, so
+surely some piece of evidence, some vital point in the scheme would
+occur to him as having been left unsaid.
+
+He had made his way to the little villa as soon as the third-rate
+medical man, whom Dasso had pressed into the plot, had given the
+lieutenant permission to get up, a sorrowful figure in deep mourning.
+His right arm was suspended in a sling of black silk and was tightly
+swathed in surgical bandages.  He had sunk in well-simulated exhaustion
+into the big chintz-covered arm-chair in the drawing-room facing the
+sea, and had laid an ebony crutch beside him on the carpet.  One leg
+had been carefully stretched out stiffly before him.
+
+Edward, all unsuspecting, had assisted him in his movements and had
+opened the windows, letting in the bracing breeze that blew up from the
+bay.  Anna Paluda, however, had merely inclined her head.  When the
+lieutenant entered she had felt only a dull anger against the author of
+her poor Galva's death.  It was only as his story progressed that she
+grew to doubt the truth of what she was listening to.  Gaspar had begun
+with well-acted expressions of sympathy and with carefully considered
+phrases of self-condemnation.  He told them that the blame of the
+accident had been entirely his in agreeing to Miss Baxendale's demands
+for increased speed.  The road was one on which he had seldom travelled
+and they had rounded the spur of the hillside before he was aware of
+their danger.  He had applied the brakes and turned the wheel to keep
+in the middle of the narrow road but the impetus had been too great.
+There had been a hideous skid as the car crashed almost broadside into
+the old and crumbling wall.
+
+The lieutenant had remembered no more until he had come to his senses
+to find that he was being carried along on some kind of rough litter.
+The pain and the jolting had caused him again to lose consciousness,
+and when next he awoke he was in his uncle's house.
+
+There had been no questions from his hearers.  Anna had sat rigidly as
+before, and Edward, his head between his hands, rocked himself gently
+to and fro.  From time to time he gave a little moan.
+
+Gaspar had fixed his eyes on the centre of a rose pattern in the
+carpet, and had resumed his tale in a low, hopeless voice.
+
+"My first thoughts were of Miss Baxendale and of how she had fared.
+For two days they would tell me nothing except that she was slightly
+hurt.  I only heard yesterday the true state of affairs, how her cloak
+and hat had been found in the ravine near the Wrecked car.  The river,
+they tell me, is deep here and weed-grown and there are great rocky
+holes.  I----"
+
+The lieutenant had risen with a choking sound in his throat as he
+recited these details.  He leant heavily on his crutch, standing before
+Anna and Edward.
+
+"This is as painful to me--as to you.  I--I--can say no more."  He
+advanced to the little bowed figure before him and held out a
+hesitating left hand.
+
+"I would like to hear you say one word, sir.  This affair will be with
+me to the day of my death.  I am beyond the reach of Miss Baxendale's
+pardon, but not of yours.  You will perhaps be leaving San Pietro and I
+would like a word to remember and look back on.  It would be one spot
+of brightness in the darkness of my future."
+
+Edward had taken the proffered hand and the lieutenant had bent low
+over it, pressing it to his lips.  Then he turned for the harder task
+of facing Anna Paluda.  But that lady had taken advantage of his back
+being turned to slip unnoticed away.  Gaspar's relief at being spared
+the leave-taking was mixed with a disquieting feeling of a pending
+misfortune.  He told himself that it would be long before he could
+forget the eyes of the lady in black.
+
+Painfully, and with dragging step, Mozara left the house and made his
+way down the path to the boulevard.  The fiacre which had been waiting
+for him was drawn up at the curb, and into it the wounded officer was
+helped by the driver, who, mounting his box, turned his horse and drove
+off in the direction of the Old Town.
+
+Edward had sat where his visitor had left him, the prey to the most
+poignant sorrow and agony of mind.  To his own rash and criminal act in
+personating another man all this tragedy was due.  Although he had, at
+times, told himself that Miranda would not be seated upon a throne
+without some opposition, he had never imagined that danger threatened
+the girl herself.  She was so beautiful and tender-hearted, so
+delightfully modern, that the idea of her being the centre of a plot of
+scheming scoundrels had barely occurred to him.  That an accident
+should have been the cause of her death was a stunning blow to the
+little man who sat in the sunlit drawing-room, gazing blankly at the
+wall before him.
+
+He rose at last with a sigh, and passed out through the French windows
+on to the balcony.  Below him rolled the carriages and motors of the
+fashionable world of Corbo; from the smart cafe a little up the
+boulevard came the sound of strings of a gipsy orchestra and the
+laughter and chatter of the crowd of loungers who were taking their
+absinthe.  Edward told himself that in the whole of San Pietro there
+was no house afflicted as was Venta Villa.  The flowering shrubs on the
+balcony on which he stood, the gaudy red-striped awning over his head
+seemed to mock him, and he turned from the gay scene with a little sob.
+It was then that he saw Anna Paluda.  She was sitting in a low wicker
+chair, and like him had been gazing out upon the boulevard and on to
+the blue of the bay beyond.
+
+She beckoned Edward to come to her side, and standing there, one hand
+resting on the little iron railing, he listened while the lady told him
+of her disbelief in no undecided voice.
+
+Edward's expression changed as he drank in her words, and the hand on
+the railing tightened its hold till the knuckles showed white patches
+of skin.  The suggestion of doubt on what he had looked upon as an
+accepted tragedy was acting as balm upon his spirits, and all the
+hidden power of his brain was responding to the call and demanding
+action--deeds.
+
+"And you say you watched him?"
+
+"Yes, from this balcony.  As he was getting into the cab, the driver
+who was helping him stumbled a little.  I distinctly saw Senor Mozara
+put out his _right_ hand and grasp the back of the hood.  I had doubted
+before in my own mind, but this is certain.  The lieutenant's right arm
+is as sound as his left, for all his surgical bandages.  Again, why
+should so important a personage as the nephew of Senor Luazo call in
+the services of an unknown medical man, instead of the family
+practitioner?"
+
+The lady paused for a moment, then went on fiercely--
+
+"Oh!  I can see it all now.  Dasso, the cursed regicide, is at the
+bottom of this.  I, who have suspected the man, have watched his
+friends.  I have seen meaning looks, glances pass from evil eye to evil
+eye.  Mr. Sydney--you will understand that I, too, have a quarrel with
+Dasso.  The hand that struck down Queen Elene struck down my child--the
+baby at whose tomb I, her mother, have to sorrow in secret----"
+
+Edward laid a hand lightly on the weeping woman's shoulder.
+
+"And my sorrow, Anna, my anguish!  Have you thought of that, of what it
+means to me, who have indirectly brought Miranda to this?"
+
+Anna took his hand between both of hers and looked up at him through
+her tears.
+
+"You have been kindness itself, Mr. Sydney.  You had your duty to Mr.
+Baxendale and you have done it nobly."
+
+The man turned away and thought of Kyser.  Anna's trust in his
+integrity was almost too much for him to bear.  Rapidly the little
+devils of pro and con invaded his conscience.  Then and there he
+registered a silent vow that come what might he would go through with
+it.  There was no turning back now; he would not add cowardice to his
+crime.  If Miranda were still in the land of the living, his would be
+the hand that would save her and deal vengeance where it was due.  He
+hoped that, if need be, he might die in the doing.  He went into his
+bedroom and took from his trunk a leather writing-case, and from one of
+its pockets a letter.  It had been handed to him as they left the hotel
+in Paris, and was from the Duc de Choleaux Lasuer.  He had laughed as
+he read it and put it away in his case.  Now he read it with all
+seriousness.  It was merely a short note, in which the writer had set
+down boyishly his admiration for Miss Baxendale.  He had heroically
+demanded that should that lady ever be in trouble, he should be called
+upon to come to her assistance.  A letter addressed under cover to M.
+de Brea, the manager of the hotel, would always find the duke.
+
+It was a letter breathing the spirit of knight errantry, such a letter
+as a love-sick boy of twenty would write.  And yet, as Edward read the
+words under the changed conditions, they seemed to hold a deal of truth
+and manliness.  The duke was a high-spirited young man, a little
+addicted, as Edward had seen, to the vices of his class, but he had
+liked and admired him in many ways.
+
+There could be no harm, he told himself, in writing to him.  Perhaps
+his grace had already forgotten that he had written such a letter; but
+Edward rather thought otherwise.
+
+That evening after dinner he took a letter out and posted it himself.
+The outer envelope was addressed to--
+
+  M. de Brea,
+    Manager,
+      Ruttez Hotel,
+        Rue Scribe, Paris;
+
+the inner merely to--
+
+  His Grace le Duc de Choleaux Lasuer
+    (by the courtesy of M. de Brea).
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THE GENTLEMAN IN THE TWEED SUIT
+
+It was nine o'clock when Mr. Povey left the little modern red-brick
+post-office situated in one of the principal thoroughfares, that ran
+steeply inland from the boulevard, and made his way down the hill.
+
+Nine o'clock was an important hour of the twenty-four to the
+inhabitants of Corbo, for it was then that the late edition of _El
+Imparcial de Corbo_ made its appearance.  The editor and proprietor of
+that enterprising journal had an arrangement by which the latest
+European news was sent to him direct from a relative employed on the
+staff of one of the great Parisian papers.  There was another paper
+published in Corbo, but it was not one that appealed to the
+sensation-loving San Pietrians.  _El Dia_ was a heavy mass of stodgy
+reading matter, that was run, only too evidently, for political reasons
+and in the interests of Spain.  It is little wonder, then, that as nine
+o'clock approached a little flutter of excitement and anticipation
+manifested itself in the crowds that thronged the cafes and boulevards.
+
+Edward called to a little bare-footed, black-eyed urchin, who was
+calling his papers, and bought a copy.  He had no desire, in his
+present state, nor did he think it a correct thing, to be seen at any
+of the fashionable haunts facing the gaily lighted promenade, and he
+turned and walked slowly up the street, keeping his eye open for a
+place where he could take his refreshment and read his paper in peace.
+
+He decided upon a corner cafe that did not seem to be too well
+patronized, and made his way to one of the little round marble-topped
+tables sheltered by the glass wind-screen, by which the proprietor
+protected his guests from the sharp gusts which at times beat through
+the narrow streets of this part of the town.
+
+Calling a waiter, Edward ordered a coffee and cognac, and, lighting a
+cigar, opened his paper.  It was a badly printed sheet, still damp from
+the press, and smelling evilly of inferior printers' ink.  As he gazed
+idly down the columns, Edward could well understand the popularity of
+the wretched rag.  Sensation was evidently the keynote of its
+policy--that and scare and scandal.  To the editor of the _Impartial de
+Corbo_ nothing was sacred.  Povey read first a long leader on the
+career of King Enrico, of whose health the reports had the last few
+days been again more favourable.  The tone of the article plainly
+showed that the editor resented this temporary recovery of a monarch
+whom he evidently considered to be of more worth dead than on the
+throne of San Pietro.  It mattered nothing to him that the Royal victim
+of his pen lay dying within a mile of his printing press.  Ruthlessly
+the ruler of San Pietro was attacked--virulently and viciously.  His
+mode of legislature, his family quarrels, his private morals, all came
+under the lash of the pen.  On the question of morals the writer,
+scenting something to whet the appetite of his readers, had let himself
+go with a vengeance.
+
+The useful relative in Paris had kept him well supplied with anecdotes
+and paragraphs relating to Enrico's frequent visits to the French
+capital.  These, while the king had been in good health, he had not
+dared to publish; but now, when any moment might be the last, he was
+drawing on the stores of his pigeon-holes, with the result that the
+cafe loungers of Corbo were given something to talk about.
+
+Edward put down the paper in disgust.  It seemed to his English way of
+thinking, a poor thing, this attacking of a dying man, who, if report
+spoke true, must be having a bad enough passing as it was.
+
+He looked up to where, between the gables of the opposite houses, the
+palace rose up gaunt and sombre above the town.  The portion of the
+building which came within his vision was in darkness, save where in
+the eastern wing a short row of windows showed little patches of yellow
+light.  It was in those rooms that he understood the dying king lay.
+
+Edward pictured the scene behind those windows, the evil-living man
+helplessly waiting for what he must hope would be annihilation.  He
+imagined the men round the bed, men intent on plunder, and who could
+barely wait until the breath left their royal master's body.  He
+wondered what visions were disturbing the king's last hours, and he
+thought of the many things he had heard of the monarch's past life.
+
+He remembered the tales of murdered and mutilated natives in the rubber
+plantations of the tiny colony in West Africa which was under the rule
+of San Pietro.  He thought of Enrico's sisters and brothers, all of
+whom had put their relative out of their lives--and of the heir,
+travelling where no one knew.  The death couch of the King of San
+Pietro must be an uneasy one indeed.
+
+The words of Fagin ran through his mind as he watched the windows; how
+did they go--"_as it came on dark, he began to think of all the men he
+had known who had died....  They rose up in quick succession, that he
+could hardly count them_."--Yes, Enrico's last hours must be very like
+those spent by the old Jew in his Newgate cell.
+
+Edward shuddered a little and took a sip of cognac.  Then he picked up
+the paper again idly and turned to the home news.  There were the usual
+amusement notes and the statistics of play at the tables in the Casino.
+He read with little interest how a wealthy Austrian nobleman had had a
+successive run of seventeen on the black, and how he had been forced to
+have the assistance of one of the attendants to carry the spoil to the
+hotel.
+
+He looked in vain for an account of the accident on the Alcador road.
+Galva's death had been soon forgotten, the readers of _El Imparcial de
+Corbo_ were no more interested in it than in the suicide two days
+previously of the young American, a ruined gambler, who had thrown
+himself into the sea from the rocks east of the bay.
+
+As he rose to pay his bill, voices at a near table arrested him, and he
+sat down again and lit the stump of his cigar.  Two men, of the middle
+class, were discussing the motor-car fatality.  One of them had
+remarked how Lieutenant Mozara should have known that road better than
+to have had such an accident.  The speaker himself had seen him often
+start out that way, and he had a sister, the wife of an innkeeper at
+Alcador, who had told him that the lieutenant seldom missed the
+bull-fights that took place periodically in the Plaza of that town.
+Edward, with his eyes glued to the paper he held before him, drank in
+every word.  It seemed to him corroboration of Anna Paluda's doubts.
+There was only one direct road to Alcador, and it was difficult to
+imagine for one moment that such an experienced driver as Lieutenant
+Mozara undoubtedly was would forget the dangerous bend that wound above
+the Ardentella rapids.
+
+And yet he said to himself that Gaspar Mozara was scarcely the man to
+take the risk of the fall.  He would be running the same danger as
+Miranda, and yet here he was in Corbo, to the best of Edward's belief,
+unhurt.  The next words from the adjoining table made matters a little
+clearer.  It was the other man who was speaking now.
+
+"----I was on the road when they were getting the wrecked car out of
+the water.  I gave them a hand, and, although the machine was badly
+smashed, one thing struck me as very curious.  The brakes had not been
+applied--whatever happened, the car had gone through the wall at full
+speed."
+
+The lieutenant's words of the afternoon returned to the man who was
+listening behind the newspaper, how he had put on the brakes when he
+had seen the danger.  Edward was now convinced that Mozara was lying,
+but even then he was no nearer the solution of the mystery.  Perhaps,
+after all, Miranda had been in the car, but Edward would not allow
+himself to think that.
+
+He felt sure that some sign further than the hat and cloak would have
+been found.  It was barely possible that the girl's body would be so
+separated from the car as to leave a hat and cloak only.  It was all
+but a certainty that she would have been pinned beneath the wreckage.
+The dainty motor bonnet, too, tied tightly, as he remembered, beneath
+the chin--how could that have become detached?
+
+No, the more Edward Povey thought of the affair the more certain he
+became that the girl was being held prisoner by some one who suspected
+her identity.  The lieutenant was, no doubt, acting under the orders of
+others, and she would be kept in captivity until Dasso, after the
+king's death, was secure on the throne.  Her's was too valuable a life
+to dispose of, unless it were absolutely necessary.
+
+All these things passed through Edward's mind as he made his way in the
+direction of Venta Villa.  The boulevard was crowded with its usual
+throng of pleasure seekers.  From the interior of the cafe came the
+clattering of dishes and the laughter of those who were drinking or
+supping.  Each place, too, had its little orchestra, the uniforms
+showing hazily through the smoke-laden atmosphere.
+
+As Povey passed the Cafe de l'Europe, the largest and most fashionable
+in Corbo, he ran his eyes over the people seated at the little tables.
+Gaily dressed women smoked cigarettes and drank tiny liqueurs as they
+joked with bored-looking men in evening attire.  Here and there the
+gorgeous uniform of the King's Own Hussars splashed a note of barbaric
+colour over the scene.
+
+With a little catch of the breath, Edward suddenly pulled up short and
+slipped back into the shadow of a newspaper kiosk.  From behind this he
+peeped cautiously at the figure of an elderly gentleman who was seated
+alone before a table on which stood a stone tankard of Pilsener.  Then
+he passed hastily up the little avenue between the crowded tables and
+entered the main body of the Cafe de l'Europe.
+
+Here were blotters containing paper and envelopes, and he drew a sheet
+towards him and wrote a short note.  Then, calling a waiter, he asked
+him to hand it to the gentleman in the tweed suit who was drinking beer
+outside.  He also, ascertaining that this particular waiter spoke a
+little English, told the man to tell the gentleman in the tweed suit
+that the writer of the note would be glad of a word with him in
+private.  Then he leaned back and watched through the large plate-glass
+windows.
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+Mr. Jasper Jarman, as the waiter touched him on the shoulder and handed
+him the note, started violently.  For him a touch on the shoulder meant
+but the one thing, in fact he had been dreaming night and day, ever
+since his arrival on the island, of touches upon the shoulder.
+
+"Ze gentleman, sir, he speak with m'sieu."
+
+"The devil he will."  Jasper Jarman rose hastily and grabbed up his hat
+and umbrella.  "I don't know a soul in the dam island, waiter, and I
+don't want to.  You have made a mistake, my good man."
+
+Jasper unfolded the note as he spoke, and his eye travelled to the
+signature.  He gave a gasp and turned again to the waiter.
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+The man bowed, and pointed to the interior of the cafe.
+
+"I will show m'sieu."
+
+Edward, however, had risen, and he met his uncle as he edged his way
+between the crowded tables.
+
+"Not a word here," he said, and, taking the old man's arm, he led him
+out of the sight of the people, some of whom he noticed were already
+giving them their attention.
+
+They crossed the crowded pavement and the road to the other side of the
+promenade.  This part, bordered as it was by a low sea wall, and
+without shops or cafes, was practically deserted, and the two men made
+their way eastward until they came to a flight of a few shallow steps
+leading down to the well-kept gardens that were the pride of Corbo.
+
+Edward, still with his hand affectionately linked in his uncle's arm,
+led the way through shrub-bordered paths to a stone seat that, half
+hidden in a mass of palm foliage, faced the sea.  Here it was quiet,
+the sound of the promenaders reaching them only in a confused murmur.
+Little lights gleamed here and there from the yachts anchored in the
+bay.
+
+"So, uncle, there you are," began Edward, unconsciously quoting Hamlet.
+
+"Yes, Edward Povey, I'm here, through your rotten criminal acts,
+you--you--jail-bird, you----"
+
+"There is no need, I assure you, my dear Uncle Jasper, to be
+offensive," said Edward Povey.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+MR. JASPER JARMAN RELIEVES HIS MIND
+
+There was silence for a few moments.  Edward Povey nervously poked
+little holes in the gravel path with the ferrule of his walking-stick.
+
+"Don't you think, uncle, that we had better discuss the situation
+without personalities--or rudeness?"
+
+Mr. Jasper Jarman's answer was a grunt.
+
+"You see, uncle, I feel that I owe you some sort of apology, or at any
+rate an explanation.  I read what they said in the papers about you.  I
+laughed for ten minutes."
+
+"You did, eh!  Well, I read the same as you did, and I didn't laugh for
+ten seconds."
+
+"But I didn't take it seriously.  I thought you would explain easily."
+
+"Yes, and be convicted as an accessory--as one of the gang."
+
+"Accessory to what?"
+
+"To the theft of the bonds--you did well out of that, it seems."
+Jasper's eyes took in his nephew's attire, the well-cut dark suit, the
+gleaming jewel in the cravat.  "I suppose you decided on San Pietro for
+the same reason as I did."
+
+"My dear uncle, I was never more astonished in my life than when I saw
+you sitting there, outside the Cafe de l'Europe."
+
+"Not more than I was to see you, Mr. Povey."
+
+Edward sat for a moment gazing out over the sea.
+
+"What I'm wondering at is that a clever business man like you should
+run away from a shadow."
+
+"Yes, the shadow of a jail--what."
+
+"Not at all, uncle.  I read in the Paris _Daily Mail_ weeks ago that
+the bonds had been recovered and that the matter was ended.  Why don't
+you go back, now?"
+
+"The fact that the bonds are safe does not explain my presence at
+Adderbury Cottage.  I'd have to say I was visiting you--and admit you
+as my nephew."
+
+"And you wouldn't like that?"
+
+"It's not a relationship that I'm proud of, Edward."
+
+Edward looked at his uncle.  "As I remarked before, there's no need to
+be rude," he said.
+
+"I'm only stating facts, Edward.  Remember, I go by what I have seen.
+What were _you_ doing at Bushey, and, for the matter of that, what are
+you doing here in San Pietro?"
+
+Edward Povey rose and took a turn or two up and down the path.  He had
+asked himself at first whether he had been wise to attract his uncle's
+attention.  But he well knew that until he had found out the reason of
+the old man's presence on the island, he would know no peace.  He was
+more than relieved to discover the true state of things and that his
+uncle knew nothing of the Baxendale affair.  The best thing to do now
+was to get the old man back to Kidderminster as soon as possible.
+There was nothing to associate Edward in his uncle's mind with the Mr.
+Sydney who lived at Venta Villa, even if, as was hardly probable, that
+gentleman's name were known to the carpet manufacturer.  He pulled up
+suddenly in his walk as a scheme suggested itself, and stood looking
+down on Mr. Jarman.
+
+"I really think, uncle, you had better go back and face the music--it's
+a bit late, I'll admit, but it's your best move."
+
+"And face the scandal too.  Not me."
+
+"There won't be any scandal if you do as I say.  Write a letter to the
+editor of your local paper--_The Kidderminster Shuttle_, isn't it?
+Tell him that you have been on a long sea voyage by your doctor's
+orders and that you haven't been able to write or receive letters for
+weeks.  Say that you have just read in an old number of the _Daily
+Telegraph_ that you have been 'wanted.'  Work up the indignation hot
+and strong--say that you are hastening home to take proceedings for
+libel against any one who has said a word against you.  You must, also,
+say that Kyser was a friend of yours and that he had lent you the
+cottage at Bushey, and that when Aunt Eliza heard he was murdered, she
+was frightened of ghosts and that is why you left so hurriedly.  Say
+she wouldn't sleep another night in the place for a fortune."
+
+Edward paused and wiped the perspiration from his face.  Jasper, who
+had been looking glum enough when his nephew had begun to speak, now
+raised his head with a little smile.
+
+"You're a magnificent liar, Edward--same time I rather like your
+idea--I believe you possess the elements of sense."
+
+Edward smiled his acknowledgments, then went on--
+
+"But I have a favour to ask, uncle.  Forget you've seen me.  I'm here
+on business--secret political business."
+
+"I shan't say a word.  Get me out of this benighted place and I'll do
+anything you like.  Now come on with me to my hotel and I'll write that
+letter."
+
+The two men left the gardens and walked up towards the Old Town.
+
+"I'm staying at The Three Lilies, a comfortable old place--nothing
+grand and smart like these"--Jasper waved to the great hotels on the
+front,--"but I wanted somewhere quiet, you see."
+
+"The Three Lilies?  Is that the little inn that faces an old castle
+sort of a place--just on the edge of the Old Town?"
+
+"Yes--why?"
+
+"Oh, nothing.  I'm only wondering if you have noticed anything strange
+about that old place opposite."
+
+"Well--they seem rather a queer lot.  Men--mostly soldiers--come pretty
+often to see the man who lives there.  They come secretly too; there
+was one the other night who hid in the yard under my window.  I heard
+something and looked out; you can understand the fright I got when I
+saw the tip of a man's cigar."
+
+"What kind of a man was he?  Can you describe him?"
+
+"I watched after I had put the light out.  There was a horse standing
+at the door opposite and the owner of the place came and saw a
+man--another soldier--off the premises.  When the sound of the horse
+had died away in the distance, the man under my window crossed over.
+I've often seen him."
+
+"Sallow face, eh?  Thin?"
+
+"That fits him.  He's been in the wars, however.  I saw him to-day and
+he walks with a crutch and carries his arm in a sling.  Why?  Do you
+know the Johnny who lives in the castle?"
+
+Edward did not answer; he was thinking deeply.  These clandestine
+meetings between Mozara and Dasso were only in accordance with the
+suspicions that crowded his mind of a plot.  A great joy filled his
+heart as he told himself that Miranda was alive.  He was glad he had
+written to the Duc de Choleaux Lasuer, a strong arm to lean on would be
+useful in the work Edward Povey had in hand.
+
+It was late when they reached The Three Lilies and the house opposite
+was in darkness.  Edward accompanied his uncle to his room and together
+they wrote their letter to _The Kidderminster Shuttle_.  This done, the
+younger man took his departure.  He made an appointment with his uncle
+at the stone seat in the gardens for eleven o'clock the next morning.
+He was rather sorry he had advised the old man to hurry away; he would
+have been useful as an informant, living as he did with the enemy under
+his eye.
+
+Any schemes such as these, however, were doomed to have a very rude
+awakening.  Edward arrived at the stone seat early and gave himself up
+to his thoughts.  His original misdemeanour in assuming the name and
+personality of Mr. Kyser was all but forgotten in the light of later
+events, and the plans for the location and rescue of Galva Baxendale.
+In his own mind he was rather more than half a hero already, and the
+shock which he received at five minutes past eleven was a sharp one,
+and coming, as it did, hard upon his self-adulation seemed to him
+unmerited and unfair.
+
+As steps approached he looked up expecting to see the portly figure of
+Mr. Jasper Jarman.  Instead, he made out a lean and hungry looking
+Corbian who, when he saw the figure on the seat, advanced, and
+snatching off his greasy cap handed a letter to Edward.
+
+"Meester Povee?"
+
+Edward took the envelope and opening it drew out a sheet of paper.  It
+was dated at nine o'clock in the morning and was headed with the device
+THE THREE LILIES.
+
+
+"_EDWARD POVEY,_
+
+"_Please accept my very best thanks for the advice you gave me
+yesterday evening.  You have in some measure atoned for the harm you
+have done.  On your head and yours alone rests the onus of my shattered
+reputation, the anguish of your Aunt Eliza and the possible downfall of
+one of the largest carpet factories in the Midlands._
+
+"_Last night circumstances made it expedient that I should dissemble
+and show you a tolerance I was far from feeling.  You are a liar and I
+do not doubt for one moment but that you are a thief.  It was to avoid
+the possible trial with such a scoundrel beside me in the dock that I
+left England.  When you get this I shall have departed from the cursed
+island of San Pietro by the boat that leaves for Spain at ten.  You did
+not mention your poor wife to me.  I do not expect I will run across
+her, it being more than probable that you have murdered the poor woman
+and buried her in the garden at Adderbury Cottage.  If I do see her,
+however, I will consider it my duty to acquaint her with the evil life
+of self-indulgence and ease you are living in Corbo._
+
+"_The messenger who brings you this is the son of the landlord of The
+Three Lilies.  I have told him that you will reward him--you can afford
+it._
+
+"_JASPER JARMAN_"
+
+
+Edward tore the letter into little pieces and swore softly to himself.
+It was a rude awakening to his dreams of rescuing distressed damsels.
+Then he took a silver coin from his pocket and handed it to the son of
+the landlord of The Three Lilies.
+
+"There's no answer," he said shortly, and turned and walked up to the
+bustling life of the boulevard.  He had entered the gardens with the
+feelings of Sir Galahad, he left them with those of Charles Peace.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE CAPTIVE
+
+In the early part of the seventeenth century a certain noble duchess,
+taking a journey through the kingdom of San Pietro, paid a visit to her
+old and valued friend the Countess Ribero, and the guest-chamber in
+which the august lady spent two nights has since been called the
+Duchess Room, and it was upon the faded glories of this distinguished
+apartment that the bewildered eyes of poor Galva Baxendale looked when
+she came out of her insensibility.
+
+The moon shining obliquely in at the long windows flooded parts of the
+room in a white light, mercilessly picking out the threadbare patches
+in the ragged tapestries and in the faded embroideries of the
+chair-backs.  A fire burning brightly in the grate somewhat relieved
+the cold splendour of the moonbeams.
+
+Galva was, for a few moments, oblivious to her surroundings.  Her head
+throbbed and ached distractingly, and she gazed with unseeing eyes at
+the carved oaken pillars of the four-post bed on which she was lying,
+and on the heavy curtains and fringes which hemmed her in.  Her first
+distinct impression was one of suffocation.  She had that horror, so
+common to those who have lived in and love the open air, of all
+enclosed spaces and smothering draperies.
+
+She raised herself slowly, and leaning her head on her hand, took a
+survey of the surrounding objects.  The room was a large one, and was
+lighted by two windows, reaching nearly to the ground, and composed of
+many small square panes.  On the walls the tarnished frames of
+pictures, mostly portraits, caught the firelight.  Facing her was a
+large tapestry on which were depicted the figures of three huntsmen,
+with very thin legs, who, accompanied by prancing dogs, were presumably
+chasing a stag, which was conveniently silhouetted on the top of a
+symmetrical mountain.
+
+As Galva put her foot to the ground the ludicrous figures seemed to
+take life and accompany the furniture and the bed in a whirling,
+fantastic dance, and the girl felt her senses again leaving her.  But
+she must have tottered somehow to the window, for the next she
+remembered was the cool night breezes of the forest, pine-scented and
+invigorating, playing upon her forehead.  With each inhalation Galva
+felt her strength coming back to her, and the memory of all that had
+happened returned to her in every detail.
+
+She remembered Mozara and the car, and how, much against her will, he
+had insisted on running her out to see the Falls on the Ardentella.
+She had known that it was a very different thing the journey inland,
+without a chaperone, to the quiet gliding up and down the promenade at
+Corbo.  She knew also that her guardian did not altogether approve of
+even this latter, and as the powerful car had bounded on past the
+palace, she had implored the lieutenant to take her back.
+
+But the young man would not believe she was serious and had laughed at
+her fears.  They would be back in an hour, he had told her, and so,
+helpless, she had made the best of it, promising herself a sharp
+retaliation on her escort when she was safely home again.
+
+Galva remembered stopping at a lonely spot where two gate-posts stood
+sentinel by the side of the road.  There was a wood, too, comprised, as
+far as she could recollect, of pine-trees.  Mozara had here alighted to
+attend to his engine, and after propping open the bonnet had gone back
+to the tonneau, saying he wanted to get a spanner from the tool-bag he
+kept there.  There was a confused memory after that of a cloth being
+swathed about her head and the sickly sweet smell of chloroform.  Then
+nothing more--until she had come to herself in this old-world room.
+
+She raised her head in the act of listening and tiptoed to the door.
+She could detect stealthy movements on the landing outside, and through
+a little crack in the oaken panel came the gleam of a light.
+
+Galva was no coward.  She had the heart of the Estratos and a line of
+ancestors whose deeds of bravery were chronicled back to the dim ages.
+But there was something uncanny in this weird room, with the flickering
+firelight the cold moon and the unknown silent watchers on the landing.
+Then she heard the footsteps creep away, and, unable to bear the
+suspense longer, the girl seized the handle of the door and shook it
+furiously.  She tried to call out, to ask who was there, but her tongue
+seemed a useless lump in her dry mouth, and sound would not come.
+
+The footsteps outside stopped at the first sound of the rattled door,
+and Galva heard whispered voices.  Then a key grated in the lock, and
+the girl retreated to the farther end of the room.  At the first sound
+she had taken from her pocket a tiny revolver, hardly more than a toy,
+which Edward, not knowing what was in store for them in San Pietro, had
+bought for her in Paris.  She saw the door slowly opened and an old man
+enter.  Behind him Teresa carried a tray on which were a flask of wine
+and some covered dishes.
+
+"You are ready for supper, senorita?"
+
+Galva gazed wonderingly at them.  All fear had left her now, and she
+fingered her revolver confidently.  The firelight glinted on the little
+plated barrel and threw gigantic shadows of the old couple on the
+yellow ceiling.  She was speaking in a low voice which she would hardly
+have recognized as her own.
+
+"Put the tray down," every word came distinctly, "and then stand over
+there--where I can see you both.  Then tell me what this all means."
+
+Pieto looked at his wife hesitatingly, and pointed to the tray.  Teresa
+set it down.
+
+"Now," went on the girl, "I want a full explanation--where is
+Lieutenant Mozara?  I don't think I know either of you--do I?"
+
+"The lieutenant has left the castle."
+
+"It seems that the lieutenant has played a trick on me--a trick that
+will cost him dear--and," meaningly, "those who are with him in it."
+
+The old people stood with bowed heads and the man mumbled something
+below his breath.
+
+"Speak up, man."
+
+Pieto raised palsied finger-tips to his mouth.  "We are not the
+servants of Lieutenant Mozara," he said.
+
+Galva stamped her little shoe.
+
+"Then go to the man who is your master, whoever he is, and tell him to
+come to me here.  If either of you two enter this room again without my
+full permission I will shoot you down like I would a couple of
+dangerous dogs--now go."
+
+Taking up the lantern which he had set down on the floor on entering
+the room, the old man made for the door, forcing himself in front of
+his wife in his anxiety to get clear of the little vixen who could hold
+a revolver so straight and steady.  Teresa gave Galva a long and
+searching look, then she too followed her craven lord and master.
+
+And Galva gave a little laugh as she found herself alone again.  She
+took the cover from one of the dishes and bent her head over the
+contents.  Whatever could be said of the old dame downstairs Galva
+noticed with satisfaction that she was no amateur in the art of the
+kitchen, and the dainty meal was soon eaten with the relish of a
+healthy fourteen-hour hunger.  For the captive told herself that
+everything depended upon her having the strength to seize any advantage
+in her position that might occur.
+
+She went again to the open window and looking out judged that she was
+some twenty-five feet above the ground level, but that below that again
+ran a moat-like trench, dug perhaps to allow light to the cellars.  She
+thought of the curtains, estimating their length with her eye; they
+might perhaps reach the twenty-five feet, but there was no way of
+crossing the trench.  True, the portico of the building was only
+perhaps fifteen feet below her, but it lay some distance to the left
+and was quite inaccessible.
+
+Galva glanced at the little strap watch on her wrist and saw that it
+was past ten.  From below stairs there came no sound, and she told
+herself that her jailers had retired for the night, and, again with the
+view of husbanding her strength, the prisoner prepared to follow their
+example.
+
+While at supper she had heard the stealthy footsteps again outside her
+door and the grating of bolts hastily shot into their sockets.  It was
+evident that escape was not to be thought of that night.
+
+The glass of excellent Chianti that she had taken with her meal had
+quite restored her courage and spirits, and she began to look upon the
+adventure as rather interesting.  It seemed clear to her that whoever
+was responsible for the outrage meant her no immediate harm, and she
+had no fear whatever of the old couple down below.
+
+With some little difficulty she piled three of the heavy oak chairs by
+the door as a precaution against a midnight surprise, and taking off
+only her outer garments and her shoes, slipped in between the sheets.
+The fire, which she had replenished from the heap of logs in the grate,
+shone dully on the rich old furnishings of the room and gave a sense of
+drowsy comfort and well-being.  Candles and matches she found on a
+little table which she pushed up near the bed.  The revolver lay handy
+underneath her pillow.  Miss Galva, in fact, was very comfortable
+indeed, and had it not been for the thought of her guardian and Anna
+Paluda and the anxiety they must be feeling, she would have been really
+happy.
+
+It was broad day when she awoke and the birds in the forest were making
+merry music.  The sun shone in at the windows and gave life to the
+somewhat sombre apartment.  Galva's watch told her it was nine o'clock.
+
+She was feeling remarkably well, her headache had entirely left her,
+and she was ravenously hungry again.  A sound outside the window caused
+her to slip on her garments and look out.  Beneath her the little patch
+of poor soil that lay between the house and the trees had been, at
+parts, coaxed into a cultivation of sorts, and the old woman who the
+night before had brought her supper was gathering some kind of green
+stuff, putting it into the basket that she carried slung over her arm.
+From her window, too, the girl could see over the trees to the country
+beyond--an arid rock-strewn waste and here and there patches of forest
+land.  Away in the distance the range of the Yeldo hills showed a
+delicate mauve against the morning sky.
+
+Galva watched the old woman for a moment in silence, then--
+
+"Good-morning, Teresa."  The girl had heard the name the evening
+before, and on the old woman looking up, she nodded brightly.  "Is
+breakfast ready, Teresa?" she went on.
+
+The old woman dipped her head sourly.
+
+"Pieto shall bring it up to you," she said.
+
+"Thanks, so much--but, by the way, tell him to take great care how he
+does it.  Listen.  He is to bring it in on a tray which he will set
+down on the little table here.  Then he will hold up his hands, both of
+them, over his head and walk out backwards."
+
+Teresa was making her way slowly towards the house, giving scant
+attention to the voice above her.  Galva raised her voice.
+
+"You understand, don't you, Teresa?  Because if your husband doesn't do
+as he's told, I'll have to shoot him."
+
+The woman in the garden stopped at this and looked up.
+
+"You would shoot my Pieto?"
+
+"Oh, don't be afraid, Teresa; I'd only shoot him in the leg.  Then
+you'd have to nurse him, you know, and that would be a pity, wouldn't
+it?  Think of keeping an eye on a prisoner and an invalid at the same
+time."
+
+Galva never forgot the pantomime of the next few minutes.  Covered by
+the revolver, the old man shuffled unsteadily into the room with the
+tray, splashing the white cloth with the contents of the coffee pot.
+Then, after putting it down where Galva bid him, he began his retreat,
+backwards, hands held high over his head.  Near the door he came to
+grief with a crash over one of the chairs his prisoner had used as a
+barricade the night before.  The old man remembered to keep his hands
+up, and the species of contortions, reminiscent of Swedish exercises,
+with, which he tried to regain his feet brought tears of laughter into
+Galva's eyes.  He was successful at last, and the girl heard his
+limping steps descend the stairs, where, with many curses, he seemed to
+be, as Galva expressed it to herself, "taking it out of the missus!"
+
+Left alone the prisoner poured herself out a cup of fragrant coffee.
+
+"There seems to be a humorous side to even this adventure," she said as
+she contentedly nibbled at a piece of buttered toast.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+TERESA
+
+As day succeeded monotonous day, even Galva's buoyant spirits began to
+show signs of the strain of hope deferred.  The first hours of her
+captivity had given her little or no uneasiness, feeling sure that her
+friends would discover her whereabouts; if they did not, she told
+herself that, armed as she was, she was more than a match for the two
+craven souls of her jailers.
+
+But on the second night she had heard the sound of a new voice in the
+room down-stairs, whether one voice or more she could not say.  Also
+the sound of a motor-horn had come to her through the woods.  This
+latter she had not given much thought to at the time, thinking that in
+all probability it was a car on its way to Alcador.  Now that there
+were visitors in the room below, the memory came back to her and took
+on a new significance.
+
+Whoever it was who was responsible for this muttering that reached her
+distantly through the floor, he did not seem anxious for an interview
+with her.  She had pounded on the boards with the heel of her shoe, but
+beyond a short silence and a little laugh it had had no effect, and the
+murmuring voices went on again as before.  Then she had turned her
+attention to the heavy fire-irons, and the continued din had brought
+old Pieto to the landing to remonstrate through the door, and to assure
+the girl, in answer to her questions, that there was no one in the
+house save themselves.
+
+But a little later, Galva had heard the opening of the front door and,
+in the distance, the sound of a motor-engine being started.
+
+The next morning, she had seen a man digging in the little vegetable
+patch, a coarse, black-browed, evil-faced fellow.  Galva remembered
+having seen the same type of man, with their closely-cropped heads,
+among the loafers outside the bull-rings in Madrid, and she knew their
+reputation.  She drew back into the room, and for the first time since
+her capture, her heart failed her.  Where were her friends, and why did
+they not come to her?
+
+Her mind flew, in its need, to the Duc de Choleaux Lasuer, and she told
+herself, and thrilled at the telling, that he would rush to her
+assistance did he know.  He had asked her on that last day in Paris to
+write to him, should she be in any trouble, and she, seeing no clouds
+in her future, had laughed at him.  Now she shut her eyes and saw again
+the eager boyish face, and she knew what a big place he had in her
+heart.
+
+She threw herself down on the great bed and buried her face in the
+pillow.  The tears that came were the first she had shed and they
+relieved her.  The knowledge that all escape by force was impossible
+took from her the thoughts that had buoyed her up.  Now, she could not
+tell how many there were against her, and she knew that the man she had
+seen in the garden was not one to be cowed by a girl with a toy pistol.
+
+She sat up and dried her eyes.  What could not be done one way, must be
+done another.  She must think out some scheme, some subterfuge to gain
+her release.  If only she could get a letter or a message sent to Venta
+Villa.  The high road ran only a hundred yards from her window, but the
+hundred yards might be miles for all the use they were, so securely was
+her retreat hidden.  Of the imaginary accident and of her supposed
+death she of course knew nothing.
+
+After this the days passed with a dull monotony.  The prisoner, seeing
+that no good was to be expected of it, dropped her bantering tone with
+the old people.  No longer were her meals served to her at the pistol
+point.  For hours together she would sit, a pathetic little figure, in
+the great arm-chair which she had pulled into the embrasure of one of
+the windows, not even turning her head when Pieto or his wife entered.
+She would sit there gazing out across the tree-tops to the arid plains
+and the wild desolation of the distant hills.  There were dark circles
+showing now under the beautiful eyes, and sometimes the meals were
+taken away again untasted.
+
+And then a little gleam of hope came to her.  Since her first arrival
+at the little castle she had noticed the covert looks, half admiration,
+half fear, with which Teresa had regarded her.  Twice, too, she had
+seen that the old woman had been on the point of saying something that
+was in her mind, but each time she had checked herself and broken off
+with a sigh.  One day Galva spoke to her.
+
+It was a dull and miserable morning, with a fine rain that lashed and
+blurred the windowpanes, and a high wind moaned through the trees of
+the forest, swaying their topmost branches.  Teresa was leaving the
+room with the scarcely touched breakfast when Galva laid a gentle hand
+on her arm.
+
+"Teresa," she whispered.
+
+The dame stopped and looked at her.  Galva thought she saw compassion
+in the beady black eyes.
+
+"Teresa--you are a woman and have a heart.  I have seen your heart
+sometimes in your eyes, when you look at me.  Have you no pity there
+for me?  All this is killing me--I am ill, Teresa--I have lived my life
+in the open air of God's green world, and this," with a despairing
+gesture that took in all the room, "is weighing on
+me--killing--crushing me."
+
+Teresa swallowed something in her throat.
+
+"I had a heart, but I thought it dead--and you say you can see it in my
+eyes.  How can I help you?  I act for others."
+
+"I am rich, Teresa, you can have anything you wish for.  Let me write a
+letter to my friends.  Think of their anxiety.  Here," and the girl
+tore at the bosom of her blouse, snapping a thin ribbon that passed
+round her neck, "take this now--it's valuable, Teresa, very valuable.
+See, they are diamonds, and that big red stone is a ru----"
+
+Galva broke off and gazed in wonderment at the old woman.  At sight of
+the glittering object which the girl with trembling hands held out, a
+sudden change had come into the wrinkled face.  She seized on the large
+marquise ring and looked at it intently, searchingly, but there was no
+cupidity in her glance, only a great dawning wonderment.  She turned
+roughly on the bewildered girl, bringing her old eyes within a foot of
+her face.
+
+"Who are you?" she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper.  "For God's
+sake--tell me--who are you?"
+
+"I am Miss Galva Baxendale, that is, I--I----  Oh, I see that you know.
+I can tell by your face that you do."
+
+"I do now.  I know that you are the Princess Miranda.  I suspected
+before, and my suspicion has grown every time I saw your eyes.  But I
+told myself that I was getting old and that I saw things that did not
+exist--only in my brain."
+
+Teresa was on her knees, pressing Galva's hand to her cold lips.
+
+"It was this ring--the sainted Queen who wore it.  Oh, how can I tell
+you----"
+
+The old woman was crying softly now, and she had not cried for nearly
+twenty years.  In a little while she grew more composed and went to the
+landing and listened.
+
+"They are at their cards," she said, when she returned, "and Pieto is
+drunk; they will not disturb us," and then Teresa told her story.
+
+"You said to-night that you saw the heart that died--for my heart died
+seventeen years ago when I buried my Jose.  He was only five, but he
+never walked.  He would just lie in the sun in his little wheeled
+cradle and look up at the sky and smile at me with his deep eyes and
+ask me things I could not tell him.  Pieto, too, in those days was a
+good father and loved his little crippled son almost as much as I did.
+And then one day there was a jingling of harness and Queen Elene drove
+past our little house, that lay up on the cliff road towards Logillo.
+She ordered her postilions to stop and called me to the side of the
+carriage.  She had the sweetest smile that ever told of a perfect soul,
+and tender eyes into which came a mist when I answered her questions
+about little Jose.
+
+"And then she got down and knelt in the dust beside the cradle, and the
+little man looked at her with his great wondering eyes, and put up his
+thin little hand to touch the glittering ornaments at the Queen's neck.
+And after that she often drove that way, and would sit with him.  Once
+she told me of her own little child, a maid--but I think she thought it
+unkind to speak of her own blessings in the face of my sorrow, for she
+only spoke of you that once."
+
+Teresa held out her hand and took up the ring that she had laid down on
+the tray.
+
+"This was what he admired more than anything, and your mother would
+take it from her finger and let him play with it, flashing it back and
+forth in the sunlight.  The day before he died she had lent it to him
+and he had gone to sleep still holding it.  The Queen would not awake
+him, and in the night he died.  When, afterwards, I returned it to the
+Queen, she wept; she would have had me keep it, but it was, she said,
+the first gift your father had given her.  That is my story--and you,
+Princess?  I do not want to know how you escaped the fate of that
+devilish work at the Palace.  I know only, that you are here and that I
+ask nothing better than to die for you, for the sake of your sainted
+mother, and for the joy she brought into my boy's life."
+
+Galva, her eyes moist with tears, bent and kissed the wrinkled brow.
+
+"And I, Teresa, want you to live.  I think I want you always to be with
+me, to talk to me about my mother."
+
+Teresa shook her head.  "I am not worthy," she said.  "After Jose was
+taken from us, Pieto took to the drink, and I--I did not care what
+happened.  We took service with Gabriel Dasso--it was rumoured that his
+was the hand that killed the Queen.  We hoped to gain evidence that it
+was so, and we would have poisoned him.  But we learnt nothing.  We
+obeyed him and did his dirty work, sinking lower and lower until we
+forgot why we had entered his service.  I am not worthy, Princess, to
+touch the sole of your shoe."
+
+Galva rose.
+
+"I won't write the letter till this afternoon, Teresa.  You can get it
+through to Corbo for me?"
+
+"There is a carrier, Princess, who passes here twice a week, about
+nightfall.  He reaches Corbo at eleven.  To-morrow is his next journey.
+I will see that he takes your letter."
+
+"And you will come and sit with me, Teresa--we have much to talk over,
+haven't we?  It will do you good, dear.  Do not let them see
+down-stairs that you have been crying.  For the present you must keep
+our secret."
+
+When Teresa had left the room, Galva crossed over, and leaning her
+elbows on the mantelpiece looked long and searchingly at herself in the
+mirror.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+THE BOAT FROM THE MAINLAND
+
+If the days hung heavily upon the heart of the captive in the castle on
+the Alcador road, they hung no less heavily upon the man who waited in
+Venta Villa.
+
+The culpability of one's actions is too often determined by the worldly
+success, or otherwise, which attends them, and Edward Povey was
+experiencing some very bitter moments.  Had Galva been firmly and
+happily seated in the great throne-room up there in the Palace, he
+would have carried his head high and have looked upon himself as a
+hero, and his usurpation of the character of Sydney Kyser as a
+meritorious act.
+
+But under the existing circumstances he cursed himself for a meddlesome
+idiot, or worse, and prayed that he might suddenly awake to find
+himself dozing over the corner desk in the dingy Eastcheap
+counting-house or in his shabby arm-chair in the front room at Belitha
+Villas.
+
+Hitherto he had accepted his present luxurious surroundings as due to
+him for the trouble he was taking; now each item of them became a stab.
+The well-cooked dinners which he took miserably with Anna Paluda seemed
+like to choke him, and the dainty hangings of his little bedroom,
+overlooking the bay, became a physical torture to him.  The letter sent
+him by Jasper Jarman also rankled deeply.  He wished he had kept the
+letter now, that he might read it again and again as a penance.
+
+By a stroke of ill-fortune Senor Luazo was confined to his room with an
+attack of gout, and the fashionable physician who attended that
+estimable gentleman had made it clear to Edward that his patient was
+not to be disturbed.  Any help or even advice from that quarter was out
+of the question.
+
+But Mr. Povey had not been content to rest in idleness; as far as it
+was possible he had acted.  Disguised, he had ingratiated himself with
+the landlord of The Three Lilies, and had spent hours together behind
+the little curtain of the window of the room vacated by Uncle Jasper,
+which overlooked the house and gardens of Gabriel Dasso.  He had,
+however, gained little by this, save one important point, the certainty
+that Lieutenant Mozara was, without doubt, malingering in the matter of
+his injuries.
+
+The gallant officer, thinking himself secure behind the high walls of
+Dasso's garden, had relaxed his precautions.  Twice the watchful eye at
+the window opposite had seen the crutch discarded and the black silk
+sling hanging empty.
+
+Beyond the comfort derived from this confirmation of the suspicions
+which Anna Paluda had planted in his mind, Edward could make no use of
+the information gained.  Any day now he might receive an answer to the
+letter he had sent to M. Brea in Paris, and until that came he was
+loath to act.  He felt that, with the help of the Duc de Choleaux
+Lasuer, he would be more than a match for the conspirators.  At the
+same time, for Galva's sake, he determined that should no word reach
+him within the next three days he would put the matter before the
+British Consul.
+
+He had met the monocled nonentity who represented the interests of
+Great Britain in the island kingdom.  Senor Luazo had introduced them
+in the cafe attached to the Casino, and Edward had not been impressed.
+The Consul did not appear to him to be the man to lean on in any great
+emergency.  Commerce between the idle inhabitants of San Pietro and
+English ports was confined to the few boxes of dried fruits of two
+Jewish firms in the business quarter of Corbo, and the Government post
+in the service of His Britannic Majesty on the little island was not
+one sought after by ambitious men.  No, on second thoughts, Edward did
+not feel inclined to disturb the alcohol-engendered ease of the
+Honourable Bertie Traverson unless it became absolutely necessary.
+
+The evening following the day on which Teresa learnt the identity of
+Galva Baxendale, Edward was sitting in the little library at Venta
+Villa, reading for the hundredth time a telegram which he had that
+morning received.  A knock at the door caused him to crumple this up
+guiltily in his hands as the servant entered.  A man was at the door
+asking for Mr. Sydney--rather a curious person, the servant
+volunteered, respectfully.  Edward, eager for anything to relieve the
+period of waiting, went out into the hall.  A rough individual was
+there, standing on the mat, his clothes dripping and making little
+rain-pools on the tiled floor.
+
+As he saw Edward he bowed a black shaggy head, and from the sodden
+recesses of his heavy coat produced a dirty envelope which he held out.
+Edward could see it was addressed to Mr. Sydney, at the Venta Villa,
+Corbo.  The light in the hall was not good, and Povey stepped back into
+the library to open and read the letter.  A moment later he was again
+out in the hall, calling to the servant to bring wine for the
+messenger.  To his surprise the man had disappeared, the little pools
+of water alone remaining to show where he had stood.  Edward flung open
+the door.  The wind swept the rain in his face in clouds, and that,
+together with the darkness, made the man's retreat secure.  Having rid
+himself of the letter entrusted to him, the carrier of the Alcador road
+considered he had done all that could be expected of him.  Remembering
+the air of mystery with which Teresa had given him the envelope, he
+wished to be done with the affair.  Curiosity was not one of his
+failings, and the suspiciously generous payment the old woman had made
+him was burning in his pockets with a flame that called for the
+extinguishing wine of a little inn he knew, nestling beneath the shadow
+of the cathedral.
+
+Edward Povey cleared the flight of richly carpeted stairs in three
+bounds and burst frantically into the little drawing-room.  The
+black-gowned figure in the arm-chair, drawn up to the fire, rose at his
+entrance and stood facing him inquiringly; one arm resting on the
+chair-back, with the other she pressed a lace handkerchief to her lips.
+The room was lighted by a single cluster of electric bulbs only, but
+Edward could see that Anna Paluda's face was chalky-grey, and that the
+large eyes looked tired with tears.
+
+"She's found, Anna.  Galva's safe."
+
+The woman thanked God and reached out a trembling hand for the letter.
+Edward switched on the other lights, and together they devoured Galva's
+message.  As they finished reading it the second time the chimes of the
+cathedral clock reached them.
+
+"Twelve o'clock, Anna.  Nothing can be done to-night.  And the
+rain--listen to it."
+
+Anna sat silent for a moment gazing out through the blurred panes at
+the inky blackness beyond.  The rain lashed the windows like a shower
+of sand, and the waves breaking on the shore below voiced a distant
+monotony.  Edward was right, nothing could be done at once, except to
+go to bed and get what rest one might against the morrow.
+
+Left alone, Povey took out the telegram he had been reading and had
+hastily thrust into his jacket pocket on the entrance of the servant.
+He smoothed it out on a little table.  It was from the Duc de Choleaux
+Lasuer, and as Edward read it again he told himself that he was nearing
+the end of his tribulations.
+
+He had been rather averse to showing the cable to Anna.  She knew
+nothing of the affection, if it can be called only that, which existed
+between Galva and the duke, or if she had noticed it in Paris it had
+long ago left her memory.  Edward doubted whether she would think it
+wise, this calling in of a stranger to their affairs.
+
+The message was quite brief, and stated simply that the sender had
+reached Spain and was leaving by the boat which was due to arrive at
+Port Corbo at nine that evening.  Edward had waited anxiously in the
+rain until the harbour master had told him that the heavy weather had
+delayed the sturdy little vessel, which acted as passenger, cargo and
+mail steamer between the island and the mainland.  The man had said
+that she had not yet passed the Point at the arm of the bay where the
+alternate red and white flashes of the distant lighthouse showed dimly
+through the driving rain.  Edward had learnt that she could not berth
+before two in the morning, and he had returned to the Villa for
+refreshment and dry clothes.
+
+At one o'clock he quietly ascertained that Anna had retired for the
+night, then, putting on a long mackintosh, crept from the house and
+started on the mile or more walk to the dock side.  The rain had now
+nearly ceased, and the esplanade lay a glistening line of wet asphalt
+in front of him, in which the arc lamps threw a clean reflection.  The
+wind still blew in fitful gusts, scattering the raindrops from the
+leaves of the trees that bordered the pavement.
+
+The promenade was deserted, save for a few waiting motor-cars and
+carriages outside the Casino.  From time to time a whistle would call
+one of these up to the entrance, and Edward would catch a glimpse of
+black-coated men holding umbrellas over the dainty figures of lightly
+cloaked women who, with skirts well bunched up over slender ankles and
+high-heeled shoes, made a dash for the carriage door.
+
+And here and there were shuffling figures edging along in the shadows.
+These were the denizens of the hinterland of Corbo, night-birds who
+crept out to the fashionable haunts in the dark hours, bent on plunder,
+or perhaps the honest earning of a little of the money which was being
+so freely spent there.
+
+Past the Opera House and the gardens the way became darker.  The arc
+lamps became further apart, and the few cafes that were still open
+showed sleepy waiters standing moodily behind the great plate-glass
+windows, waiting for the stragglers to depart.
+
+As Edward walked on he thought of the coming interview, debating within
+himself whether or no he should acquaint the new arrival with the true
+state of affairs.  He felt that the secret was not altogether his own,
+and now that he had heard from Galva that she was safe and in no
+immediate danger, he said that there was no need to act hurriedly.  He
+rather wished, in fact, that he had not been so hasty in writing.  The
+duke would be useful certainly, but he complicated matters.
+
+As he neared the dock the way became increasingly difficult.  The
+Powers that Be in the Island of San Pietro made up for their lavish
+pandering to their rich visitors by altogether neglecting those
+portions of the town that lay remote from the Casino.  Short, narrow
+streets, the houses of which seemed tumbling in on one in the darkness,
+straggled down to the waterside.  In places, the particular road which
+Edward had taken was so steep that rough slabs of granite had been
+crudely laid down in a series of steps, broad and shallow, down which
+he stumbled dangerously.
+
+The houses, for the most part, were in darkness, save where here and
+there an open door silhouetted the shrouded figure of a woman who would
+whisper to him as he hurried past.  A party of Swedish sailors were
+quarrelling under the hanging oil-lamp of an inn, the doors of which
+were being hastily shut and bolted.  Edward passed unnoticed, and in a
+moment emerged on the broad cobbled wharf.
+
+Here, doubtless with a view of favourably impressing arriving visitors,
+the Powers that Be proved more prodigal with illumination, and a row of
+arc lamps showed the misty forms of a few tramp steamers huddled up to
+the dock edge.  A little knot of seamen and luggage touts stood looking
+out towards the open sea.  From one of the boats a wheezy concertina
+was accompanying a rich tenor voice singing an old English ballad.
+
+His friend, the harbour master, was not to be seen, but Edward learnt
+from one of the seamen that the Spanish boat was expected to be
+alongside in the course of half an hour.  He could hear the syren
+booming dismally.
+
+Edward Povey buried his chin more deeply between the storm-collars of
+his mackintosh and waited, pacing up and down in the raw, damp mist.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+EDWARD SEES COMPLICATIONS
+
+Galva had written--
+
+
+"_.... so, as I hardly expect you will be able to get a reply through
+to me, I had better make my own arrangements.  At ten o'clock each
+night I will be in readiness and Teresa will be on hand to open the
+door to you on your giving the signal, Anna and I, in dear old
+Cornwall, used, when we became separated in any way, to call to each
+other by imitating the cry of the kestrel.  I will wait for that signal
+here.  You must remember that I have promised old Teresa that her
+husband will come to no harm ... I am well and in no danger, and having
+allayed your anxiety and eased my mind, I can wait quite happily till
+you come...._"
+
+
+The captive had set forth at length the manner of her capture and the
+position of Casa Luzo.  She had briefly touched upon the friendship for
+her shown by Teresa and how the old woman had discovered her secret.
+She impressed upon Edward to lay his plans well and not to spoil
+matters by undue haste.
+
+"Casa Luzo," murmured the Duc de Choleaux Lasuer, "it lies nine or ten
+miles out on the Alcad..."
+
+"You know the Alcador road, duke?"
+
+The boyish face flushed a little and his grace bent over Galva's letter.
+
+"A little," he said.  "An idle man of the world like myself knows most
+of the pleasure spots on this old earth of ours--I had my car over here
+last year and I did a lot of work on these inland roads."
+
+They were sitting on the balcony outside the drawing-room windows of
+Venta Villa.  The duke had, immediately upon his arrival in the early
+hours of the morning, hurried Edward away from the lighted dock-side up
+to the house, keeping ever on the darker side of the way.  Edward had
+noticed with no little alarm, how, under some pretext or other, he had
+contrived to keep his features hidden when any one approached.  He
+would stop and light his cigarette, or stoop and occupy himself with
+his bootlace.  Edward, whom recent affairs had made observant, did not
+feel at all comfortable.
+
+It was plain to him that his grace was anxious that he should not be
+observed, and he felt uneasy to think that there could be any mystery
+about the young man on whom he was depending for so much help.  He
+decided that, for the present, the least said was soonest mended, and
+he would not share the secret of Galva's birth with him until he could
+more clearly see his way.
+
+But now, as he looked at the figure of the young man beside him on the
+balcony and noted the frank open countenance, the steady eye, he felt a
+pang of compunction at doubting him.  And yet--why was it that the duke
+had taken up his position behind the thick fronds of the largest palm
+that adorned the little balcony?  A coincidence perhaps, but----
+
+The mistral-like storm of the night before had passed over, leaving
+Corbo radiant and clean in the bright sunlight.  The sea was calming
+and there was no wind.  The sun had been strong, and now in the early
+afternoon there was not a spot of moisture left on the promenade.
+
+"There will be a moon to-night, Mr. Sydney."
+
+"Good--and you really think it better not to risk the road?"
+
+The duke drew a large scale map of Corbo and its surroundings towards
+him.
+
+"It's unnecessary.  The Sebastin Park, so Senora Paluda says, merges
+into the forest, and once there the way seems clear.  The distance
+appears to be less that way, and I do not think we can go wrong.  We
+will leave ourselves plenty of time."
+
+A meal was taken at three o'clock and immediately afterwards the men
+set out, each armed with a revolver.  They did not consider it needful
+to take other help with them--secrecy was half the battle.  Edward felt
+his misgivings returning to him in full force as he noticed that, in
+spite of the warm sun, the duke twisted a thick muffler round his neck,
+burying his chin and mouth in the folds.
+
+The Sebastin Park, given to the people of San Pietro by their late
+ill-fated king, was a magnificent stretch of vivid lawns and trim
+gravel paths.  The semi-tropical vegetation was trained and cultivated
+to show to the best advantage and everywhere little statues and
+fountains gleamed white in the sun.  There were, also, on the outer
+edges of the park, walks more secluded and screened by shrubberies of
+rhododendrons.
+
+Edward frowned as he noticed that his companion chose these outer
+pathways in preference to the broad walks, where nursemaids and their
+little charges swarmed and idle promenaders walked slowly up and down.
+With chin buried in his muffler, the Duc de Choleaux Lasuer walked
+quickly, his eyes nervously looking from side to side.
+
+And then they were in the forest.  The cultivation was left behind and
+there was only a little zigzag path winding between the trunks of the
+great pines.  Through them to the left a glimpse of the grey walls of
+the Palace grounds showed sombre against the sky.  Edward pointed this
+out to the duke and spoke of the dying king.  He detected a shadow pass
+over the boyish face, and the duke's next remark was on an entirely
+different subject.  A suspicion of the truth was born in Edward's mind
+at that moment.
+
+But the brisk action and the clean scents of the woodland drove all
+thoughts save those of Galva from his mind and filled him with the
+spirit of romance and the joy of living.  Uncle Jasper's letter was
+forgotten and Edward became again, in his own eyes, the knight-errant
+and hero.
+
+They reached the precincts of the Casa Luzo from the back and long
+before they had expected.  Edward's watch told them that it was eight
+o'clock, and the men had to wait with what patience they could the
+passing of the next two hours.  They took their places upon a fallen
+tree trunk in a clearing, and lit cigarettes and looked at the moon
+rising over the Yeldo hills and at the black and green mystery of the
+forest around them.  The silence was intense and neither of the waiting
+men seemed anxious to break the magic of it.
+
+And then as it grew chilly they reconnoitred, taking stock of their
+position.  They made a wide detour of the house, penetrating deeply
+into the wood.  They saw not a soul, but once the eerie glow of a
+charcoal-burner splashed redly between the trees.
+
+At five minutes to the hour they stood just within the belt of trees
+facing the house.  Edward's first attempt at the kestrel's note was not
+a success.  The weird sound echoed dismally through the night, awaking
+the bird life to protesting cries.  He cleared his throat and tried
+again,--then, as the surrounding birds quieted down into a peevish
+chatter, a window on the first floor showed a faint light.
+
+As they watched, grotesque shadows flitted over the ceiling and walls
+within the room as the occupant carried the candle to the window.  For
+a moment Galva's slender form showed silhouetted against the
+glow,--then darkness.  The men crept quietly up to the building.
+
+As they mounted the steps they saw the massive door before them slowly
+open a few inches.  Edward put out his hand and gently pushed it, and
+they were inside the hall.
+
+It was in darkness, save for the dull glow that came from a horn
+lantern that stood on the stone floor.  By its fitful light they could
+make out the shadowy form of an old woman who stood regarding them from
+the foot of the staircase.  The rays, coming from below her, touched
+her figure here and there into yellow lights, and threw gigantic and
+misshapen shadows on the walls behind her.
+
+Teresa was trembling.  She held one finger to her lips as though
+enjoining silence, and a hand, outstretched, indicated the door of the
+dining-room.  From the stairs above came the sound of hard breathing.
+As the men looked at the old woman, she disappeared, melting into the
+gloom of the staircase.
+
+The duke made a sign to Edward to stay silent where he was, and with
+his revolver held in readiness, advanced to the door of the room.
+
+It was open a little way only, and but a part of the room was visible.
+The long table was littered with the remains of a meal, and the cloth
+at one end had been crumpled and pushed back to clear a space for two
+men who sat there at cards.
+
+One of them, whose figure showed out darkly against the light of the
+candelabra, was a personage of massive build, and the duke, taking
+stock of the bullet-shaped head and thick neck, told himself that here
+was a customer that would need some handling.  The other, his opponent
+at the game, he saw at a glance was of little account.  Old Pieto had
+been winning, and a crafty smile of gratified greed flickered over his
+face as he shuffled the dirty cards.
+
+The watcher by the door noted with some satisfaction that both men
+applied themselves assiduously to the flagons of wine beside them, in
+fact, they were neither of them quite sober.  As the man whose back was
+towards him put down his cards he shivered and half turned in his chair
+with a muttered imprecation upon old women who left doors open.
+
+The duke slipped back into the shadows and raised his weapon and
+waited.  But nothing happened; the man was perhaps too lazy to rise,
+and was waiting for the return of Teresa.
+
+Edward listened to his companion's whispered instructions carefully.
+The little old man was to be held at the point of the revolver whilst
+the duke grappled with the other and stronger man, whose back being
+turned offered himself as an easy prey.
+
+With a muttered "now," they flung open the door, and with a bound the
+duke was upon the man at the table, his arm locked around his neck in a
+vice-like grip.  Gradually he bore him backwards, tilting the chair up
+on its back legs.  The ruffian's face was purple, and he made a
+gurgling noise in his throat.  Then the oak of the chair legs cracked,
+cracked again, and splintered, and the men were on the floor together.
+
+A nimble twist, remarkable in so big a man, and learnt, perhaps, in the
+bull-ring, put the man on his feet again, and he snatched at a knife on
+the table.  When he turned, the duke was also up, and leaning panting
+against the wall.  The revolver had been knocked from his hand in the
+struggle, and had fallen neither man knew where.
+
+Keeping his eyes fixed upon his opponent and crouching low, the man
+with the knife reached out his left hand and took hold of the
+tablecloth; then, with a swift movement, he dragged it to him, waving
+it until it was wound round his left forearm.  The crockery and glass
+fell crashing to the floor, and the duke noticed a wine bottle rolling
+away to the wainscoting, leaving a red trail like blood over the
+scattered playing cards.  But his eyes were quickly back again upon the
+man, who with his tablecloth-shielded arm was creeping cat-like up to
+him.
+
+The duke counted himself lost, as, unarmed as he was, he awaited the
+inevitable spring.  He gave one glance at Edward, who was standing over
+the old manservant, the revolver held waveringly within an inch of the
+evil face.  Povey had not dared take his eyes from his captive; he
+heard the shuffling of stealthy feet as the men circled round each
+other, heard one of them kick a dish that was hampering him, sending it
+crashing against the wall.  Then there was the sharp crack of a
+firearm, and he could stand the suspense no longer.
+
+He turned and saw thin wreaths of smoke floating across the room, and,
+on the floor, the man whom the duke had attacked half lay, half sat,
+clutching spasmodically at his knee and swearing horribly.  At the door
+stood Galva.  She was very white, and the hand that held the still
+smoking little pistol was trembling.  Edward heard a small pitiful
+voice.  Galva was saying, "In the leg--only--in the leg----"
+
+Then she threw the weapon from her and went over to Edward, and put her
+arms round his neck.
+
+"Oh, guardy--I've shot a man!  Say he's not dead--it was only in the
+leg--say----"  And the girl fell to weeping on his shoulder.
+
+The duke was now standing over Pieto, and was tying the old man's hands
+with a cord.  Teresa bent over the ruffian on the floor, cutting away
+the breeches from the wound in his leg.
+
+Edward, looking over Galva's shoulder, took in the details of the
+scene.  There was a small pool of blood on the oak boards, and an
+orange from the table had rolled into it and was dabbled in red.
+
+He saw the duke approach the wounded man, and at his step Teresa looked
+up.  Into her face came a dawning bewilderment, and she gave a little
+cry.
+
+"Prince Ar----," she whispered.  Then the duke had his hand over her
+mouth.  But Edward had heard, and the duke's actions since his arrival
+in San Pietro were made clear to him.
+
+"This complicates matters considerably," he said below his breath, and
+went on paternally patting Galva's shoulder.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+THE HEART OF GALVA
+
+"I think we understood each other in Paris, didn't we, Armand?"
+
+"Yes, dearest, but a definite answer to a definite question is
+satisfactory; now that you have given me the sweet 'yes,' I will speak
+to your guardian."
+
+"To-night--speak to him to-night, dear.  I know he will be pleased,
+and," shyly, "if he isn't, I am really afraid that it will make no
+difference to the 'yes'--or to me."
+
+Galva drew herself away from her lover's embrace.
+
+"He will have something to tell you--about me," she went on rather
+solemnly; "there he is.  Good-night, dearest; I am tired and I want to
+be alone with my happiness--for I _am_ happy to-night, Armand--very
+happy."
+
+The lips of the lovers met in the shadow of the portico, and when
+Edward came through the hall he found the duke alone.  The two men
+linked arms and fell to pacing up and down the gravelled space in front
+of the house.  It was not yet eleven and quietude had once more settled
+down over the Casa Luzo.  As they walked, Edward was relating to the
+duke how he had seen the two prisoners safely disposed of in one of the
+roomy cellars that ran out under the back courtyard, and had learnt
+from old Teresa, much to his satisfaction, that it was not likely that
+Dasso would put in an appearance for some days.
+
+He and Mozara had paid two visits to Casa Luzo since the coming of
+Galva, but on the last of these the old woman had overheard that,
+thinking their prisoner perfectly hidden, and the news of her death
+accepted, Dasso would remain near the Palace waiting for the death of
+the king.  As Edward mentioned the dying monarch he glanced slyly up at
+the duke's face, paused a moment, then:
+
+"They are saying that your poor uncle can't last long."
+
+At this his companion wheeled round on him.
+
+"So you know my secret?"
+
+"I am not blind, your Highness; you are Armand Enrico Marie, Prince of
+Alcador, heir-apparent to the throne of San Pietro."
+
+"----which is the only one of the eleven titles I possess of which I am
+not proud.  It is no honour to claim kinship with King Enrico.  But I
+am glad you know, it saves explanations--I have asked Galva to be my
+wife."
+
+Edward looked up quickly, then let his gaze rest on the tree tops of
+the forest.
+
+"Ye gods," he murmured, then felt that the duke was regarding him
+curiously.
+
+"You are pleased, Mr. Sydney?  Galva does not know that it is a throne
+I am offering her.  I will make her a queen, she--what are you looking
+at, Mr. Sydney?"
+
+Edward drew his eyes back from their contemplation of the tree tops.
+
+"I was thinking," he said slowly.
+
+The duke waited.
+
+"----Yes, I was thinking," went on Edward, "whether what you have told
+me--oh, damn it all, you've got to know.  Come inside, I think I
+remember seeing a bottle of wine in there, and I have a story to
+tell--no, not a word until we have found the bottle and you have heard
+the story."  And the duke, mystified into silence, followed him into
+the house.
+
+The dining-room still showed some signs of the late struggle, but the
+_debris_ had been in part cleared away, and old Teresa was rubbing
+vigorously at the blood stain on the oaken floor.  She rose from her
+knees as the men entered, and taking her bucket, slipped from the room.
+As the door closed behind her the duke broke the silence.
+
+"I really cannot understand the way you have taken my news, Mr.
+Sydney," he began, a little haughtily, and Edward held up his hand.
+
+"Of course you can't, I can't get the hang of it myself all at once.
+Sit there, will you?  This Chianti is excellent"; then, when the men
+were seated facing each other across the wood fire--
+
+"You will remember hearing about the tragedy at the Palace at Corbo
+fifteen years back.  I expect you have heard the details over and over
+again.  When the dynasty of the Estratos was all but wiped out----"
+
+"_All but_, Mr. Sydney?"
+
+"That is what I said, prince.  The popular belief was that the entire
+tree of that illustrious house was cut off root and branch, and that
+all its members perished on that evil night, but it was not so.  The
+Princess Miranda escaped the fate of her parents."
+
+"But the child--a baby--was killed with the queen."
+
+"A child was, but it was not hers.  You were speaking to the mother of
+the dead child only a few hours ago.  It is Anna Paluda's little one
+that lies buried in Corbo Cathedral."
+
+Edward paused impressively, but the duke did not speak.  He sat with
+his dark eyes fixed on the face of the man who was telling the tale.
+
+"That poor woman was foster-mother to the little princess, and the two
+children were in the night nursery at the time of the tragedy.  Queen
+Elene took up the wrong baby, that's all.  It's one of those simple
+mistakes which mean so much.  Anna has sunk her revenge for all these
+years for the sake of the little girl who was almost as much to her as
+her own, but her revenge is not dead; some one will pay the price when
+the princess's affairs are settled."
+
+"And the Princess Miranda, what--what became of her?"
+
+Edward threw a keen look at his listener.
+
+"Anna escaped during the excitement, taking the child with her.  A few
+days later, an American gentleman came across them, living in the
+deserted hut of some charcoal-burner in the woods.  This kind-hearted
+Yankee, touched by the child's helplessness and the romance of the
+case, adopted her, smuggled her out of the country, and brought her up
+to the life of an English lady.  Circumstances prevented his taking her
+back to the States with him, and she and Anna have spent a peaceful
+life on the Cornish moors until the girl's eighteenth birthday, a few
+months----"
+
+There came the sound of light singing from the room above them, and
+with a meaning smile, Edward pointed to the ceiling.
+
+"Her Highness the Princess Miranda seems happy to-night, eh, duke?"
+
+As he spoke Edward leant over with a look of concern, and touched the
+other on the knee, for the Duc de Choleaux Lasuer was sitting silent,
+and had buried his head in his hands.  "What's all this?" he asked, and
+noted the anguish that lived in the duke's eyes as he raised his head
+to answer him.
+
+"It means the loss of everything to me--everything, Mr. Sydney.
+Throne, position--and a love that is more than my life to me."
+
+"Now, look here, duke: of course the throne is Galva's, there's no
+getting away from that, but if she loves you and you love her--well--it
+seems to me that things are fitting in rather neatly."
+
+"Oh, you don't understand.  What will the people here say?  How will
+they speak of a man who, having lost a throne, climbs back to it on the
+shoulders of a woman?  The honour of our family is not to be judged by
+the standard of the devil who is dying back there in Corbo."
+
+The duke had risen as he spoke, but Edward pressed him gently back into
+his chair.
+
+"I am a plain man, duke, and have lived a plain life--how plain it has
+been you would never guess.  One of these days I will tell you all
+about the hand I have played in this affair, but not now.
+
+"But in my plain life I have learnt two or three plain facts, and one
+is that we must take what the good gods give us; they don't, as a rule,
+hold out their gifts twice.  As for this fetish you call honour, what
+honour is there in spoiling your own life and Galva's too?  You say the
+people will think badly of you.  Let them.  They will be in the
+minority, a few kill-joys--remember that all the world loves a lover.
+
+"Yours is a love story that will ring through Europe.  Your engagement
+before either of you knew the high destiny of the other has the true
+spice of romance, the heart-throb which always fetches the public
+favour.  The Press will fight your battle."
+
+Edward sat down feeling rather surprised at his own eloquence, and
+drank off a goblet of Chianti.  Then he lit a cigar and was silent.
+
+A moment, and the duke turned to him with a sad little smile.
+
+"You put it very nicely, Mr. Sydney.  I'll talk to Galva about it in
+the morning.  After all, there are other things to worry about just
+now.  I think a little action is what I want.  You say that Dasso will
+not be here for a few days?"
+
+Edward nodded.
+
+"He lays great stress on being first in the field when Enrico dies.  I
+don't expect he is ever far from his house for two minutes together.
+By the way, you know the Palace well, I suppose?"
+
+"Only fairly.  I have not been on speaking terms with my uncle for
+years, except on state occasions when it is policy for me to show up;
+it's only then that I come to Corbo at all.  As a youth I lived in the
+Palace; my father died when I was eleven.  I knew every inch of the
+building then.  It's a rambling old place.  Why do you ask?"
+
+"Because I have a plan to suggest.  We cannot risk more than one night
+here, and Galva will be glad to change her surroundings.  Among the
+palace attendants there must be one who can be bribed to smuggle us
+into the building.  It can only be a matter of hours before Enrico
+dies.  Then"--and Edward rubbed his hands together with a crafty
+smile--"Dasso will find us there to greet him.  Won't he be pleased?
+
+"I suggest that we give the wounded ruffian in the cellar money and
+food.  He'll be about again in a day or two.  Then Pieto and Teresa,
+who hate Dasso like poison, will go to their master and tell of the
+fight and the rescue.  They will also say that they overheard us
+planning to leave the country, that we were heartily sick of San Pietro
+and all its works.  They will, of course, not mention your identity.
+Anna will join us at the Palace, and my villa will be shut up.  This is
+if you can manage to bribe some attendant whom you know."
+
+The prince thought a moment.
+
+"I fancy it can be managed.  I know a way into the grounds.  I used it
+often when I wanted to break bounds.  There was Pia, one of the
+under-gardeners, who was well disposed to me.  He ought to be useful if
+he is still there, as I remember Dasso thrashing him once for spraying
+him accidentally with a hose.  Your Corbian does not forget a thrashing
+in a hurry.  Yes, Pia is our man, I think."
+
+"Very well, then; we will leave here to-morrow afternoon and reach the
+walls of the grounds by the time it is dark.  Then I will slip across
+Sebastin Park and fetch Anna.  After that we will enter by your secret
+way, and, please Heaven, find your gardener.--We are on the laps of the
+gods.  Now we'll take a watch, two hours each, and don't forget to pray
+for your uncle--that he may be spared another day."
+
+"Amen to that," said the duke.
+
+
+"The Princess Miranda begs to inform Enrico Armand, Prince of Alcador,
+Duc de Choleaux Lasuer, Baron Diaz, Count of the Holy Roman Empire,
+etc., etc., that she cannot accept the return of anything which she has
+graciously bestowed upon him--even her freedom."
+
+And saying this, Galva jumped lightly up from the moss-covered boulder
+upon which she had been sitting, and, smiling mockingly, bowed low
+before the young man who stood leaning moodily against the straight
+bole of a pine-tree.
+
+"But, Galva, my honour----"
+
+"Honour, indeed!  And does my happiness count for nothing?  Does _my_
+honour not weigh with you?  Is it honourable to ask a young girl to
+show you the treasure-house of her heart and then turn away?  Perhaps
+the wares don't suit.  Perhaps----"
+
+"Galva!"
+
+"No, you must hear me out.  Oh, I wish that we were just poor ordinary
+people, so that we could live only for each other, perhaps away in my
+lovely Cornwall.  But, dear, we aren't just poor ordinary people, and
+we must go where we are called."
+
+The girl turned and pointed to where the dull crimson of the setting
+sun shone in the windows of the royal residence.
+
+"There, Armand, is my future home, perched up there above the people
+whom God has given me to rule.  It is for you to make it, for me, a
+Purgatory or a Paradise--a prison or a home."
+
+She held out her little white hands pathetically and stood there among
+the trees, her queenly head thrown slightly back, her lips just parted,
+and with the love-light smiling from under the blue of her lids.  And
+the duke looked at her for a moment--then, with a glad little cry, took
+her into his arms and kissed her on the lips.
+
+"And now," said the princess as they walked up to a fallen tree trunk
+which lay half embedded in the undergrowth, "we will sit here and wait
+for Mr. Sydney--and we won't talk any more nonsense, will we?"
+
+The little party had left Casa Luzo after lunch.  Teresa had been
+instructed to delay the telling of the rescue to Dasso for as long as
+possible.  The wounded man had gratefully accepted the handsome
+monetary present offered him (especially as Dasso had already paid for
+his services in advance), and was now making preparations to get back
+to his native town and the delights of bull-ring society.
+
+The walk through the woods had been a pleasant one to Galva in her
+new-found happiness and freedom, and her lover had not been able to
+find the heart to speak the words which he knew would give her pain; in
+fact, Edward had been gone an hour, leaving them to await his return at
+the forest edge, before he had summoned up courage to the task.  And
+then had come the battle, and it had lasted exactly ten minutes, and
+the spoils had been all to Galva.  His mind once made up, the duke gave
+himself with a little sigh to his happiness.
+
+The night came down upon the forest, and still they sat, their fingers
+entwined, on the fallen tree.  The flush had faded from the palace
+windows, leaving them grey and forbidding, and with sun-down a chill
+wind had come in from the sea.  Behind the lovers the pine trunks
+showed dimly like vast columns in some ghostly cathedral, and there was
+no sound save the gentle song of the wind in the branches.
+
+Armand drew the rug they had brought with them closer over both their
+shoulders, shielding the little head that nestled so confidingly on his
+breast.  When Edward returned with Anna Paluda, the Princess Galva
+awoke.
+
+The duke rose and stretched his cramped limbs.  Edward reached for his
+hand and shook it.
+
+"Congratulations!" he murmured.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+THE PASSING GUN
+
+The particular genius who designed the grounds of the Palace at Corbo
+was a nephew of the Estratos--a youth of an artistic but somewhat weak
+intellect and bizarre tastes.
+
+This was in the latter part of the seventeenth century, a period when a
+wave of decadence had swept over the Court, a time of powder and
+patches and red-heeled shoes--of mincing courtiers and doubtful
+gallantries.
+
+Large, level lawns, and flower-bordered walks lay immediately beneath
+the terrace which ran the length of the building at the back, and
+beyond and at the sides, the royal horticulturist, with an eye,
+doubtless, to the doings of the times, had devised cunning shrubberies
+and fascinating little arbours, the narrow paths twisting here and
+winding there, a very maze of foliage, paths which had doubtless
+hampered the movements of many an outraged husband.
+
+Here and there a weather-beaten, moss-patched statue or terminal peeped
+above the greenery, a nymph with broken features, or a faun, the leer
+still lingering on his discoloured face.  One could imagine him again
+pricking his goat ears to catch an echo of the sounds he had listened
+to in those quiet retreats in the days that were gone--the whispered
+vows, the crunch of high-heeled shoes on the gravel--the oaths and the
+clash of rapiers.
+
+But Edward's party had more important affairs to hold their attention
+than the imagining of long-dead romances.  They had found without
+difficulty the entrance into the grounds, and now were making a
+cautious way over the weed-grown paths.
+
+They had not drawn nearer to the Palace, but had threaded their way
+through the outer portions of the shrubberies, keeping near to the
+boundary wall, and coming, after some ten minutes' walk, upon the
+cottage of the friendly gardener.
+
+The duke stopped as the patch of yellow light from its windows came
+into view, then quietly led his companions to a stone bench that lay
+almost hidden in rhododendrons.  Here, after seeing the two ladies made
+comfortable, he left them.  The moon had risen and the tangled foliage
+of the garden was all grey-green and shadow, through which the broken
+statuary rose, here and there, like pale ghosts of an evil past,
+looking down on the intruders within their domain of memories.
+
+Armand was away some time, and when he returned he had with him a tall,
+broad-shouldered man wearing the livery of the keepers of the royal
+gardens.  He stood awkwardly before them, changing from one foot to the
+other and twisting his green cap nervously in his huge fingers.  The
+duke laid a hand affectionately on the big shoulder.
+
+"These ladies, Pia, and this gentleman, are those of whom we have been
+speaking."  Then turning to Edward, he went on, "I have told this good
+fellow everything, and although he seems dazed at the whole affair, he
+is with us heart and soul, as I knew he would be.  He has no love for
+Dasso--and he knows of others who will help us."
+
+At the mention of Dasso's name, the man had looked up, a mask of
+malignant hate, and the duke, noting it, had given a little smile of
+satisfaction.
+
+The cottage to which the party was conducted was a roomy building, but
+of a single storey.  Pia's wife at once took charge of Anna and Galva,
+who were both now showing some signs of weariness.  The good woman,
+noticing this, parted a curtain at the further end of the room, and
+taking a lamp from a bracket, led the ladies to her bedchamber.  The
+men, left alone, were not slow to take the opportunity of discussing
+ways and means.
+
+Their plan of action was a simple one.  They were to lie hidden where
+they were until the king was in extremis.  Pia, whose daughter was
+employed as a still-room maid at the Palace, would give them
+information as to the progress of the royal patient.  In the mean time
+Pia would see that the little staircase which Anna Paluda had used to
+such good purpose fifteen years before, was free of access, and that
+the door which gave on to the grounds, and which had fallen into
+disuse, was cleared of the tangled creepers which he said now all but
+covered it.
+
+At the first alarm that Enrico's death was imminent, they would make
+all speed to this door, and hurry up to the room at the top of the
+stair, the little chamber behind the corridor wall, where ten or twelve
+people could wait in moderate comfort.  Here they would be perfectly
+secure, and even in the event of the report of the king's condition
+proving false, they could but retire.  At the sound of the first gun
+announcing the death they would proceed to the king's ante-chamber,
+there to wait the advent of Dasso.  At the least they would be twenty
+minutes before him.
+
+The ladies did not re-appear but sent their "good-nights" to the men by
+the old dame, and the duke and Edward were conducted by their host to a
+barn which lay some ten yards to the rear of the cottage.
+
+Here Pia left them with a stable lantern, telling them that there was
+no need for them to keep watch.  One or other of his sons would be
+about all night on guard, and nothing could happen without them being
+made aware of it.
+
+Nothing loath, after their long walk, the two men took off their outer
+garments, and rolling themselves in the horse blankets provided by Pia,
+threw themselves upon the pile of yellow straw which littered one end
+of the barn, and in a few moments they had fallen asleep.
+
+It was bright day when they awoke to find that Pia had entered the
+barn, bringing with him a jug of steaming coffee and some toasted
+rolls, to which comforting fare the men devoted themselves whilst they
+were making their toilet.  This completed as well as the lack of razors
+and other necessaries permitted, they followed their host across the
+cobbled yard to the great kitchen and living-room of the cottage.
+
+This was a cheerful apartment, whose lime-washed walls, pierced here
+and there by little red-curtained windows, reflected the glow of the
+blazing pine logs in the open fire-place.  The ceiling was high and
+pointed, being the entire height of the house, and from the black
+rafters hung bulky hams and bunches of sweet-smelling herbs.  At one
+end a flight of rough oak steps led up to a little railed gallery that
+projected out over the fire-place, making a cosy settle, which on
+winter evenings would accommodate the whole family.  In this little
+gallery were two or three rush-seated chairs, and in a niche in the
+wall a rather crudely coloured figure of the Virgin.
+
+The morning sunlight shone through the tiny leaded panes of the
+windows, and glinted on the glass and earthenware laid out on the bare
+table, spotless as any tablecloth, and made play among the pewter and
+brass on the great dresser.  The cleanliness and order of Dame Pia's
+room made one imagine oneself in the kitchen of some strict housewife
+on the Zuyder Zee.
+
+Anna and Galva, refreshed by their night's rest, were in the highest of
+spirits, which Edward's suggestion that they should not go outside the
+house hardly lessened.  It was so cosy in this sweet-smelling kitchen,
+and for the moment memories of Cornwall came back to them.  They
+occupied their time well, insisting on giving a helping hand at the
+housework, much to the embarrassment of the good mistress of the house;
+and Galva could hardly repress a smile at the expression and the low
+bow of reverence with which the old woman handed each utensil she had
+washed to her to wipe.
+
+But the work of one cottage in the hands of three capable women is soon
+done, and time began to hang heavily on Galva's hands, until, noticing
+Dame Pia preparing a stew, nothing would satisfy her but that she
+should try her hand, with what materials were available, at a Cornish
+pasty.  With sleeves rolled up above her dimpled elbows the princess
+set about her task, the housewife standing dutifully by, her apron
+twisted between nervous fingers.  It was a good pasty, and no doubt the
+disinclination of the Pia family to eat heartily of it is explained by
+a little glass case on the dresser which to this day is shown to all
+visitors, and which shelters the remains of the queen's culinary effort.
+
+Pia went about his work as usual, and Edward mooned rather unhappily
+about the big room.  To the duke this enforced imprisonment was no
+hardship, and he would sit in the little window-seat watching Galva as
+she flitted gracefully here and there in the performance of her tasks.
+No news came to them from the Palace, and as it grew dusk and the
+lights of Corbo shone in the sky, Edward could stand the inactivity no
+longer, but disguising his appearance as well as might be, made his way
+through the Sebastin Park down to the town, choosing the streets that
+lay near the cathedral in his search for information.
+
+There was, however, nothing to be learnt from the loungers who were
+taking their coffee and cognac at the little tables of the cafes, and
+Edward was soon anxious to get back to the cosy comfort of the
+gardener's cottage.  As the chimes in the belfry above him told the
+hour of nine he rose from the corner of the obscure brasserie where he
+had been taking his refreshment, and went out into the Cathedral Square.
+
+The air was chilly, and buttoning his coat closely round him he strode
+out briskly in the direction of the park.  He had left the town and
+entered the Sebastin Gates when he was aware of something unusual in
+the air.  From the direction of the boulevards came the subdued murmur
+of voices, that intense mumble that speaks of popular excitement.
+Above the confused sound Edward could make out the shouts of boys
+crying their papers, and he remembered that it was at nine o'clock that
+the _Imparcial_ made its appearance.
+
+For a moment he stood in indecision.  To return to the town meant the
+loss of half an hour--and surely that rustle of excitement denoted that
+King Enrico was dead or dying.  What a fool he had been to leave the
+cottage.  He might have thought that the absence of news during the day
+was but the lull before the end, and now here he was out of the game,
+the success of which he had been playing so hard for.
+
+Pressing his hat firmly on his head, he set off running across the
+park.  After all, he might have been mistaken in imagining that the
+death had occurred.  Surely he would have heard the gun.  He knew that
+the custom was to--
+
+_Boom--m--m----_
+
+The sound echoed and reverberated over the woods and the open spaces
+round him.  Edward slackened his pace, and swore softly to himself.  He
+had come through the secret entrance to the grounds, and now paused a
+moment and took his bearings.
+
+Then, mending his pace, he ran on, avoiding the cottage, and making
+direct for the door at the foot of the staircase.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+A BULLET IN THE GROUNDS
+
+At the moment when Edward was drinking his cognac in the cafe in Corbo,
+Gabriel Dasso was sitting in the library of his house in the old town
+listening eagerly to a story.  Lieutenant Mozara, his spurred
+riding-boots stretched out to the fire, was telling what had befallen
+him that afternoon in Alcador.
+
+"It was in a crowd near the little theatre in the Plaza.  I only caught
+a glimpse of him, but I knew the face at once as that of the brute you
+sent to Casa Luzo.  I tried to get near him, but he had evidently seen
+me, for he slipped into a cafe.  It was a low place, but I followed
+him.  The old proprietor answered my questions with a cunning smile; no
+one had entered, he told me, and our friend was not among the
+disreputable crowds that lounged round the tables.  There was nothing
+for it but to hurry on to the Casa Luzo.
+
+"My horse was stabled at the little hotel on the Alcador road, and in
+under the hour I was interviewing old Pieto, or rather his wife, for
+the old man was in a state of collapse--and good red wine."
+
+The lieutenant broke off and poured himself out some claret.  His host
+pushed his own glass towards him also, and the two men drank.  Then,
+"Go on," said Dasso, shortly.
+
+"It was a funny story that she had to tell me.  She says that yesterday
+that mysterious Mr. Sydney drove up in a car.  With him were the lady
+companion and three burly ruffians, who, Teresa says, were strangers to
+her.  They seem to have done their work pretty thoroughly, even to the
+extent of putting a bullet through the leg of your friend from Alcador.
+
+"That was what made me believe the tale, for the man I had seen enter
+the cafe was using a crutch.  Teresa said that Pieto was asleep at the
+time, but I expect he was drunk.  She says that Galva was bundled into
+the car, and she overheard Sydney tell her that they were going to
+Rozana _en route_ for England.  He was very agitated, she says, and
+remarked that he was damn sick of San Pietro, and everything and
+everybody in it."
+
+"But, Gaspar, you say this was yesterday.  Why did not Pieto let me
+know?"
+
+"They wouldn't allow him to.  Two of the men Sydney had brought with
+him stayed on guard, and it was only----"
+
+The lieutenant stopped and looked inquiringly at his companion, for
+through the night-air had come the sound of a gun, muffled, but
+unmistakable.
+
+Dasso leapt to his feet with an oath.
+
+"Enrico's gone," he said hoarsely, and made for the door.  Mozara
+followed, and in a moment the men, assisted by the under-groom, were
+saddling Dasso's horse.  Gaspar's own mare was on a pillar-rein where
+he had left her.  A moment more and the two men were riding with loose
+rein up the cobbled street that led to the Palace.
+
+The frightened inhabitants, who were conversing in little groups,
+scattered to right and left, and windows were opened and heads thrust
+out as the horsemen clattered past.  The Palace gates were open, and
+dashing through them they pulled up their smoking horses at the great
+doors.
+
+In the hall the servants, male and female, were crowded, their faces
+showing inactive stupidity.  They fell apart and gave room for Dasso
+and the lieutenant as they made their way up the wide marble staircase.
+Reaching the corridor above, they turned to the right in the direction
+of the death-chamber.
+
+"This is unseemly conduct, Senor Dasso.  My uncle is barely dead."
+Armand was standing before them, a naked blade in his hand.
+
+The intruders fell back.
+
+"Prince Armand--_you_ here!"
+
+"It seems so, gentlemen.  This is a curious way to pay one's respect to
+the dead."
+
+Gabriel Dasso stood with bowed head.
+
+"I did not expect----"
+
+"I did not intend that you should, Senor Dasso.  Put up your weapon,
+Mozara, the guards are within call."
+
+A moment's silence, then Dasso spoke.
+
+"Your Majesty's appearance is timely.  The people will be calling for
+you.  They will want to greet the new king."
+
+Armand smiled.
+
+"Perhaps you will lend me the notes of your own speech for the
+occasion, Dasso; I am rather unprepared.  Besides, I do not act for
+myself, I act for the Queen."
+
+"The Queen?"
+
+"I said 'the Queen,' Senor Dasso.  To-night's blunder is not the only
+one you have made--you made one fifteen years ago when you did your
+hellish work in this palace."
+
+"You have taken service early, prince, under the banner of this
+adventuress, this----"
+
+"Senor Dasso,"  Armand was speaking quietly, "the Queen has ordered
+that there shall be no bloodshed here to-night.  You are forgetting
+yourself."  He called, and four of the royal guard came from a passage
+behind him.
+
+"Show these gentlemen out.  Dasso, I have no royal rank now, and can
+call you to account for this--by the bye," he added, as the guard
+closed round the discomfited men, "there will be a special edition of
+the _Imparcial_ to-morrow morning.  It will interest you."
+
+The escort left them at the door and Dasso and Mozara stood undecided
+on the great steps.  Then, leaving their horses, they walked towards
+the gates.  Once out of sight of the building, however, they stopped.
+Dasso was gnawing at his moustache in impotent fury.
+
+"They told me he was better at seven o'clock.  The nurse herself told
+me.  What cursed luck."  They walked on again, taking a path that led
+into the shrubberies.  For, perhaps, five minutes they strode on in
+silence, then the lieutenant halted and caught at his companion's arm.
+
+"Listen!" he said.
+
+From a path close at hand came the sound of running footsteps and the
+heavy breathing of a spent man.  Then round the bend before them
+emerged the figure of Edward Sydney.  With a little laugh Dasso barred
+his way.
+
+"So," he said.
+
+Edward pulled up short and stared at the wicked faces before him.
+
+"Gentlemen--you will let me--pass?" he gasped.
+
+"I don't think so, Mr. Sydney.  Haven't this gentleman and myself, as
+you English say, a bone to pick with you?"
+
+Dasso smiled grimly as he spoke, a smile which caused a little shiver
+to pass over Edward and set him looking about him for a possible way of
+escape.
+
+They had met in one of the narrow paths.  On either hand the tall mass
+of foliage made an impenetrable wall.  A few paces away Edward could
+make out an alley-way which ran at right angles, and he told himself
+that with luck and a start of a few yards he would stand a good chance
+of evading capture among the tortuous twists and turns of the
+shrubbery.  In the mean time he must temporize.
+
+"I cannot imagine what your excellency and I can have in common.  We
+have met once--I think at Senor Luazo's, wasn't it?"
+
+"We did meet there, Mr. Sydney, certainly, but it is about the lady who
+accompanied you here from England that I want to have a word with you."
+
+"You mean Miss Baxendale?"
+
+Dasso nodded.
+
+They had been moving along the path slowly as they were speaking, and
+Edward noted with satisfaction that now a few feet only separated him
+from the entrance to the alley.  If only he could take the attention of
+the two men from himself for a moment.--A thought occurred to him.
+
+"Ah, yes--the young lady.  If that is so, I think that this will
+interest you, Senor Dasso."
+
+As he spoke he took from his breast pocket an envelope; it was, in
+fact, a London tailor's bill and was addressed to him at Belitha
+Villas, but in the gloom it served its purpose.
+
+Dasso took it and drew out the folded sheet of paper it contained,
+holding it up to catch the moon-rays which here and there penetrated
+the leafage surrounding them.
+
+Edward Povey seized the opportunity he had created, and, for the first
+and last time in his life, he struck a man.  The blood surged joyously
+through his veins and sang a hymn of power in his brain as his fist
+shot out straight and true, and he felt the knuckles grind into the
+evil face of Gabriel Dasso.  Then with a leap he had gained the dark
+alley way.
+
+Dasso put a hand to his face and called out to Mozara, and in a moment
+the lieutenant was giving chase.  Edward heard the sound of running
+footsteps behind him and he mended his pace.
+
+On and on, turning and twisting, ran the poor exhausted little man.  In
+some of the longer paths he would catch a fleeting glimpse over his
+shoulder of his pursuer, then a sudden plunge to the right or left
+separated them again.
+
+At last at the end of a more than usually straight run he found himself
+in the open.  To retrace his steps was impossible, already Mozara was
+but twenty feet from him, the barrel of a revolver shining blue in his
+hand.
+
+Some hundred yards away the Palace rose, a dark mass against the
+star-powdered sky, and Edward knew that in the shadow of one of those
+buttresses lay the little staircase--and safety.
+
+Breathing a hurried prayer for help, he darted across the moon-swept
+lawns, running unevenly, now upright, now bent nearly double.  A shot
+whined past his ear and he drew in his breath sharply, then another,
+then--a stinging pain took him in the left shoulder and Edward Povey
+knew that he had been hit.
+
+Almost at once the acute pain passed and his shoulder grew cold and
+numb and sticky.  He faltered in his stride and all but fell, but the
+sight of the doorway gave him courage and again he stumbled on.
+
+It took him only two or three minutes to reach it, but to the stricken
+man it seemed as though he were running for hours.  A fog appeared to
+have risen before his eyes, a reddish fog in which danced and trembled
+little points of flame--and through the mist he saw the face of Pia,
+who had been placed to guard the foot of the staircase--felt strong
+arms supporting him--then with a little sigh drooped into oblivion.
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+Edward came to his senses to find himself in a dimly lit chamber, with
+the face of the Princess Galva, white and drawn, bending over him, and
+her cool hand on his forehead.
+
+Beyond her, in the gloom of the room, were other faces.  Anna was
+there, and the duke, and a strange man whom they addressed as doctor,
+and who now came forward and took Edward's wrist.  The latter could
+catch here and there a word of what he was saying; the voice seemed to
+come from a great distance.
+
+"----unfortunate that it should be this room--locate the bullet--no,
+again in the morning perhaps--not to be moved--one of the sisters will
+watch--you can send for me if----"
+
+Then the faces grew blurred and swayed in circles round the wounded
+man, and again his senses left him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+IN THE DEATH CHAMBER
+
+A dark, silent chamber.  A room magnificent and lofty in which the far
+corners were shrouded in shadowy gloom.
+
+Edward lay in a half consciousness, staring up at the ceiling.  It
+caused him no wonderment that the ceiling was strange to him, and
+unlike any ceiling he had ever known, or that it should be carved and
+painted and rich with gilding.
+
+There was a faint, elusive perfume in the air that set him thinking of
+cathedrals, and from somewhere near him there came a droning monotone.
+
+He felt no definite pain now, only a sensation of lassitude and
+detachment.  There was a strange tightness in the region of his heart
+and he felt a little cold.  Turning his head he tried to rise upon his
+elbow, but a sharp pain took him in the shoulder as he moved, and he
+was glad to sink back again upon the pillow.
+
+The movement, however, slight as it had been, had left him in a
+position from which he could get a better view of his surroundings, and
+as he took these in he gave a little gasp and felt the beads of
+moisture pricking out upon his forehead.
+
+In the centre of the room there was a bed, the four posts of which,
+richly carved, upheld a fluted canopy of dull red silk from which
+depended heavy curtains looped up with tasselled cords.  Upon the panel
+above the pillow an escutcheon was blazoned out in dull gold.
+
+Edward closed his eyes for a moment before he could make up his mind to
+let them rest on the figure which he knew he would see lying beneath
+the crimson canopy.  He asked himself what could have been the cause of
+his, Edward Povey's, presence in the death chamber of the king of San
+Pietro.  Then he opened his eyes and looked.
+
+Enrico was lying stiff in the centre of the bed, the sharp points of
+his knees and feet showing rigidly through the white sheet which
+covered his body.  The thin hands were folded peacefully upon the
+breast, and between the stiffening fingers had been thrust a crucifix
+of ebony, bearing a silver image of the Christ.  Below the hands, too,
+Edward noticed that some one had placed a single bloom, a rose.  The
+little flower stood out eloquently among the sombre pageantry of death,
+"all the purer for its oneness," and he wondered idly whether it spoke
+of at least one who had truly sorrowed at the passing of the king, at
+one real regret.
+
+On the bed, at the feet of the dead monarch, were two cushions on which
+were pinned the several orders and medals which had belonged to Enrico;
+his sword, too, lay between them, together with his plumed hat and his
+field-marshal's staff.
+
+On either side of the bed there knelt a Sister of Mercy, and it was the
+monotone of their prayers that Edward had heard when he first awoke.
+In an alcove by the great carved fire-place a thin spiral of scented
+smoke rose from a censer.  Four tall candles in silver holders made the
+space round the body an oasis of light, and in the cavern of shadow
+beyond loomed the strange shapes of massive furniture, and the dull
+gleam of mirrors.  The heavy curtains had been drawn across the
+windows, and there was no sound but the murmur of the women at prayer
+and the occasional fall of a cinder on the stone flags of the hearth.
+
+The scene was eerie in the extreme, and Edward gazed in fascinated
+interest at the rigid figure on the bed.  Enrico had been a handsome
+man in life, and with the passing of his evil soul his earthly dignity
+of aspect had increased.  The head was lying well back and showed the
+noble sweep of the brow and the clean-cut profile of the high-bridged
+nose.  A full beard, raven black and threaded here and there with grey,
+rested spread out like a pall upon his breast and reached to the
+clasped hands.  Upon the sunken wax-like cheeks the firelight flickered
+and played ghastly shadow tricks in the hollows of the deep-set eyes.
+
+One of the nuns rose silently from her knees to attend to a candle at
+the head of the bed which had been guttering in a little draught that
+had found its way into the still room.  As the woman turned to resume
+her prayers she saw that Edward, upon his pile of rugs in the corner,
+was awake, and she came with noiseless steps over to him.  She laid a
+cool hand upon his brow and spoke to him in a whisper.
+
+"You are not to talk, senor; I have orders to fetch the Queen to you
+when you awoke."
+
+"The Queen!--you call her that already!  But she will be asleep,
+she----"  He ceased speaking as the white hand was pressed over his
+lips, and he watched the sister as she glided noiselessly to a door
+that was concealed behind a curtain near him.
+
+In a few moments she had returned, and behind her, Edward saw Galva,
+and a smile lit up his rather tired-looking eyes as she crept and knelt
+down by the side of the made-up couch.
+
+Very adorable looked the young Queen of San Pietro as she bent her
+lovely head over Edward Povey.  Her hair, parted in the centre, fell
+over her shoulders in two long plaits, showing their dark richness
+against the steel blue of the wrapper the girl had put on.  Her face
+was a little pale and there were dusky rings showing under the
+eyes--eyes which still held a suspicion of tears.
+
+The nun who had fetched her crossed the room and touched her fellow
+watcher on the arm, and together they left the room.
+
+When they were alone Galva bent lower over towards Edward and he put
+out his hands and took her little ones between them, and as he did so
+something warm fell upon them.
+
+"Why, Galva--what's all this--tears?  Why----"
+
+"Oh, guardy, you are hurt--and I can't bear it.  I would never forgive
+myself--never, if anything were to happen to you.  It is my
+fault--it----"
+
+"I don't know, Galva, whether I'm badly hurt or not--sometimes I think
+I am.  I don't feel much pain now--but there is a tightness here.  Why
+was I put in this room, into the presence of death?  Enrico in all his
+glory is hardly the best of company for an invalid."  And he smiled a
+little.
+
+"It was the doctor, guardy, the man who had been attending the king.
+He had you brought here as it was nearest, and he won't let them move
+you.  He tried to find the bullet, but he couldn't.  He is coming again
+in the morning.  Who shot you, guardy?"
+
+"Never mind that now, dear.  I want to ask you something.  I want you
+to tell me if----if----I have been of use to you, if I have helped ever
+so little to put you where you are now--to make you Queen of San
+Pietro."
+
+Galva raised her head.
+
+"Why, Mr. Sydney, what a strange question--of course----"
+
+"Not so strange, dear, not so strange.  Don't call me Mr. Sydney, just
+Edward.  And so I have really helped a little?  I'm glad.  I'm--do you
+know, Galva, that I have always thought that in this life we are given
+our chance to combat the evil we do with good, to balance our account,
+as it were; that for every sin we commit, every wrong we do, we are
+given a whitewash brush, to use if we will."
+
+"I think so too, guardy--but you have done no wrong.  I won't believe
+any evil of you--you are all that is noble and good."
+
+Edward shook his head.
+
+"But you don't know everything, there are one or two little things
+which one of these days, when I am better, I will explain to you.  Now
+go to bed, dear; this wrapper of yours is as thin as paper.  In the
+morning I will explain--yes, explain.  Good-night.  Oh, by the bye,
+that is your rose, I expect, isn't it?" and he pointed to the bed, and
+Galva nodded.  "I thought so, you little saint; I don't know any one
+else who would have put it there.  Now run away, dear---in the morning
+I will explain."
+
+The girl rose and leant over the wounded man.
+
+"Good-night, guardy dear, and God bless you," she said, and kissed him
+on the lips.
+
+She turned at the door and sent him a little smile, and as she went
+from sight behind the curtain, a sense of desolation came over Edward
+Povey.
+
+He thought it would be good to die like this--and perhaps it were
+better that there should be no explanation.  He had taken on the
+mission of a man who was unable to act for himself, and he had carried
+it to a successful issue.  All was right with the world, and he told
+himself that his own account was with God in His heaven.
+
+He became mildly delirious and asked himself what more could he desire
+of the Romance he craved, than to pass out of life here in this chamber
+which might have been lifted bodily from a classic of the Middle Ages?
+What fitter surroundings than the tall sombre candlesticks, the praying
+women, the silence, and the shrouded figure on the bed?  He turned his
+eyes to Enrico and felt a strange sense of companionship.
+
+The pain in his chest seemed easier now, and the spasms were becoming
+less frequent.  He lay between sleeping and waking, in a delicious
+state of ease.  He thought tenderly of Charlotte, and wondered if she
+would miss him very much if she were never to see him any more.
+
+There had been little love, little real love, between them for the past
+few years, but in his light-headedness Edward thought of her as he saw
+her that day years ago, decked out in the tawdry white finery of their
+wedding morning, trembling beside him at the altar of the shabby little
+Barnsbury church.  He called to mind the girlish, shrinking figure
+standing on the threshold of life, and he remembered that there were
+tears shining through the cheap little net veil.
+
+Then he went on through the years, through the hopefulness of it all,
+and the disappointments, through the troubled waters with their
+sun-kissed moments, to the dull tinged sea of matrimonial failure.  He
+could not really blame Charlotte; her lot had been perhaps a harder one
+than his, after all.
+
+Even the journey to and from the City, the noisy companionship of the
+second-class smoker, the life of the gloomy counting-house, the snack
+of lunch followed by the grateful pipe smoked on the sunny side of
+Gracechurch Street--these had all been his, and he knew now how they
+had all helped him to endure those years in the little villa at Brixton.
+
+He wondered idly why God had not sent them any children.  Little ones
+were so necessary to life.  Charlotte and he would never have drifted
+apart if the wondering eyes of a child had been there to see--if there
+had been tiny roseleaf hands to hold them to each other.  It would all
+have been so different then.
+
+The blind at one of the windows had become disarranged, and through the
+aperture Edward saw the first sweet flush of the dawning.  It was only
+a little glimpse, but he could see an inch or two of the horizon.
+Above the silver edge of a bank of stormy clouds that lay low over the
+sea, the coming day had barred the sky with green and gold and shell
+pink and glory.  Gradually the light in the room increased, and the
+candles grew ghostlike, and the shadows lifted unexpectedly from the
+corners.
+
+The two nuns had re-entered the room, and one of them crept softly over
+to his couch and gazed down at the white face.  Then she tiptoed back
+and touched her companion on the arm.
+
+"We will whisper our prayers, sister; our little friend is in a
+delicious sleep.  He'll do now.  We must think of the living before the
+dead."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+THE FUGITIVE
+
+In dynasties, as in politics, the pendulum pursues its immutable law.
+Those who, or whose immediate ancestors, had applauded the tragedy of
+fifteen years ago, were now to be seen in the very forefront of the
+rejoicings at the fair Estrato who had come out of the blue to rule
+over them.
+
+The editor of the _Imparcial_ had at last had his great chance, and the
+Marinoni he had purchased second-hand from a Madrid printing office was
+working overtime.  For edition after edition he drove home the praises
+of the rising stars of San Pietro.  With the true journalistic spirit
+he had seized on the high lights of the romance, points which he knew
+would delight the gossip-loving patrons of his sheet, and the cafe
+loungers on the promenade of Corbo were regaled with stories of the
+love of Galva and Armand, which, if not strictly true, were at least
+richly garnished with the roses of romance and were well worth the
+reading.
+
+As a counterblast, _El Dia_ had appeared the morning following the
+death of the king, with a heavy, wordy, black-bordered leading article
+in which the influence of Spain was barely disguised.  It had pointed
+out to the inhabitants of San Pietro that they would do well to move
+warily in the crisis now before them, and that, at least, they should
+stay the celebrations of joy until after the vault in Corbo Cathedral
+had closed over the remains of the late king, whose small virtues they
+unearthed and glorified.
+
+But your Corbian is not given to moving warily, and neither can he
+pretend to a sorrow he does not feel.  It is small wonder, therefore,
+that the gala colours of rejoicing should outweigh the trappings of woe
+with which a few axe-grinding friends of the late monarch bedecked
+their sorrowing persons.
+
+From an attic window high up in a small and dirty hotel facing the
+Cathedral Square, and well shielded by the faded and torn curtains, a
+man had sat for days watching the animated scenes beneath him.  He sat
+with his chin moodily resting in his hand, in his eyes the haunted look
+of a man who is hard pressed.
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+Gabriel Dasso and the lieutenant had, after the encounter with Edward
+Povey in the shrubbery of the palace grounds, made their way to the
+house in the old town.  The ex-dictator did not consider all was lost
+until Spain had had her say in the matter; he relied, too, on the army,
+a hope which would have been fully justified had he had only Prince
+Armand as an opponent.
+
+But he well knew the natures of the gay-hearted youths who held
+commission in the San Pietran army, and, knowing this, he sighed, and a
+vision of a lovely face rose up before him, a face in which the dark
+eyes shone serenely and fearless, and luminous with fascination.  He
+felt that only too readily would the swords fly from their scabbards to
+do service for Queen Miranda.
+
+The men let themselves into the house in the old town and made their
+way to the dining-room.  Dasso went over and drew the heavy curtains
+across the windows.  There was wine on the table and he drank greedily.
+Mozara was standing dejectedly before the fire, jabbing viciously at
+the logs with his heel.  The sight of the spur reminded him of
+something, and he gave a hard little laugh.
+
+"We might have brought away our horses, Gabriel--we may need them," he
+said meaningly.
+
+"Pshaw, we'll win yet."  But Dasso's tone was not hopeful as he said
+it, and the hand that held the wineglass trembled a little, which was
+not usual with the hand of the ex-dictator.
+
+"What!  You have been busy with your schemes, Dasso; you have not
+noticed the eyes of the Queen, perhaps.  Win!"--and the lieutenant
+snapped his fingers--"impossible."
+
+Gabriel Dasso leant over the table and he spoke in a low whisper.
+Perhaps it was the wine that caused the huskiness to come into his
+voice.
+
+"I saw eyes, Gaspar, like those _fifteen years ago_--and I won then.
+What is to prevent our doing _now_ what we did _then_?"
+
+He remained silent for a moment, his eyes never leaving Mozara's face.
+
+"----_now_, what we did _then_," he repeated; "the people know nothing
+of this girl, and before the story can leak out it will be all over.  I
+can get the captains from the barracks, Luaz and Pinto, and--oh,
+they'll all come with me.  The girl shall not be mentioned; they will
+think there is only Armand there, and you know what they think of him.
+But it must be now; I will not count on their help when once they have
+seen her.  I myself will find the girl and deal with her as I dealt
+with her moth----"
+
+With an oath the lieutenant started forward; the glass he had been
+holding crashed to the floor, and his breath came in little painful
+gasps.
+
+"You devil--you--Oh, I knew the downward path was broad, I did not
+think it was so short.  Only a few months since that evil day when I
+fell under your thumb.  Before the night of the cards I had been no
+worse than the others, now----  What's that, Dasso?"
+
+The lieutenant had broken off suddenly and stood in the attitude of
+listening, his face grey and set.  For a moment there was a strained
+silence in the room, then there came to the ears of the men a confused
+distant murmur.  Dasso reached out a hand and extinguished the lamp.
+
+Cautiously the two men, brought together now by a common danger, moved
+to the window; the flicker of the logs in the grate lit up the fear on
+their faces.  Gabriel drew the blind aside for about an inch and stood
+waiting.
+
+All seemed quiet again now, and the men told themselves that they had
+heard some drunken roysterers on their way home from the Casino.  After
+a few moments they returned to the fire.  There was a sneer on Dasso's
+face as he turned to the younger man and took up the quarrel where it
+had been interrupted.
+
+"So you prefer to remain here and be disgraced, eh?  My plan is the
+only one left and to-night is the only time for the doing.  If we
+succeed Spain will gloss over the affair; if we fail----"
+
+"Stop, Gabriel, I won't listen to you, and I'll do no more of your
+hellish work.  A few mouths ago my life was at least decent.  I'll have
+no dealings with you after what you have said.  I can only thank God
+that I was with you in this, else that poor girl would have had no
+mercy shown her and would now be dead.  Perhaps that will atone a
+little when I meet my Maker.  I'll expose you, Dasso--you--you
+murderer."
+
+The spring that Dasso made took the lieutenant unawares and bore him
+heavily to the ground, his head striking one of the carved iron
+firedogs as he went down with a dull crash, and he lay still where he
+had fallen.  The face of the elder man was livid with passion.
+
+"You'll expose me, eh?  Murderer, eh?  Many have thought that, but no
+one has called me it to my face."  The fingers were tightening round
+the throat of the unconscious officer.
+
+"When--you--meet--your--Maker, you said.  That will be to-night, my
+friend."  He pressed more heavily, leaning his weight full upon the
+body.
+
+And when all was over and the form beneath him no longer made any
+movement or sound, he stood up.  There were great beads of moisture on
+his face, and the decanter clinked pitifully against the glass as he
+poured out more wine.
+
+He took the cloth from the long sideboard and dropped it over the face
+of the man on the floor.
+
+Now the sound that they had heard came to him again in little bursts,
+and he walked unsteadily to the window.  Pieces of the glass dropped by
+Mozara crunched under his heel.
+
+The lamp had not been relit, and the murderer was able to see clearly
+into the moon-bathed street.  The Three Lilies was in
+darkness--evidently the sound had not come from that quarter.
+
+Again.  This time it was more pronounced, and Dasso could make out a
+dark patch, dotted with lantern light, moving towards the house from
+the direction of the town.  As the murmur grew more distinct, the
+watching man could make out a word here and there; they were calling
+his name, and the epithets attached to it were not flattering.
+
+Dasso left the window, and crossing to the fire peered into the steel
+face of the clock that stood in the centre of the mantelshelf.  Then in
+the half light he went over to the little safe embedded in the wall.
+
+He unlocked it with trembling fingers and took from it package after
+package of papers and carried them over to the fire, and placing them
+on the seat of a chair began his task of sorting.  Some were put upon
+the burning logs without a second glance; others, including a large
+roll of paper money, he placed in the breast pocket of his coat.
+
+There were other documents, too, which caused a furrow to take shape
+between the evil brows, and which were held to the glow and read
+through from their first word to their last before they were finally
+pocketed or sent to swell the growing pile of grey ash on the
+smouldering logs.
+
+Only once did the man look towards the thing that lay still and
+sinister on the great bearskin rug not two feet from where he knelt.
+This was when he picked up the envelope containing the hand at cards
+which had been the downfall of the man who now was dead.
+
+Dasso held the package for a moment in his hand, the custodian of a
+dead man's honour.  He seemed to be debating whether Mozara could in
+any way further serve him.  Then as the noise outside grew louder he
+thrust the envelope between the bars and rose to his feet.  Now there
+came a knocking at the great oaken door, and Dasso heard his name
+called by angry voices.  He knew why the mob had come seeking him, and
+he knew the temperament of the Corbians, that they were creatures in
+whom civilization and barbarism were separated by the faintest of
+lines, and who knew no restraint or reason once their passions were
+aroused.
+
+A stone hurtled through the window-pane and checked by the blind fell
+down with a clatter on to the polished floor and rolled almost to his
+feet.  For the first time Dasso showed signs of haste.
+
+He made his way from the room and through many passages to the servants
+quarters at the back, taking, as he ran, from a peg in the lower hall,
+a wide-brimmed hat and a common brown cloak which had belonged to old
+Pieto.
+
+There came a crashing and splintering from the front of the house, and
+the man told himself that the stout oak had given at last.  He opened a
+door beside the great dresser shutting it behind him and shooting home
+the heavy metal bolts.  He descended a short flight of steps that lay
+there, and which led down to the cellars of the old mansion.  At the
+foot he waited, and feeling out with his hands he found and lit a horn
+lantern.
+
+Through cellar after cellar he made his tortuous way, past bins and
+racks of wine, between casks and cases stacked high to the groined
+roof.  The air was thick and musty and great rats scampered away at the
+approach of the flickering yellow light and the hurried footsteps.
+
+Then the air grew cooler, and Dasso stopped and, raising his lantern,
+searched the walls round him.  A few stone steps led up to an opening,
+through which with stooping shoulders the man passed.  Here he was in a
+tunnel, a narrow tube, that rose gradually until the fugitive could
+feel the cool airs of the night upon his face, and he found himself in
+front of an iron gateway.  He took from the pocket of his coat a key,
+and after a few attempts the gate was thrust open, tearing its way
+through the mass of vegetation with which the iron-work and hinges were
+choked, and Dasso stood in the moonlight of the vegetable garden of his
+house.  A thick belt of trees separated him from the building itself,
+and in the distance he heard the cries of the mob who had now gained an
+entrance.  He clenched his fists and turned away.  As he did so,
+through the trees a light splashed redly, then another--and another,
+and the man knew that they had set fire to the building.
+
+A curse spluttered out between his teeth as, dropping the lantern into
+a water butt that stood at hand, he started to run along the path that
+led away from the house.
+
+For perhaps a hundred yards he ran, the path leading between beds of
+celery and fruit bushes.  The moonlight cut the garden up into sharp
+black-green shadows, which were illuminated now and again by flashes of
+light from the burning house behind him.
+
+At the foot of the garden a high wall, spiked with broken glass, barred
+his way, and turning to the left he ran along at its base till he came
+to a door, bolted and barred.  In a few moments he had this open, and
+was out in a small lane that ran behind the house.
+
+Following this he emerged into a broader road, and again into the main
+street in which stood what was left of his home.  Here, disguised as he
+was, he was safe, and he stood in a doorway and looked up towards the
+burning house.
+
+The fire had by now obtained a firm hold, and the old worm-eaten
+woodwork was blazing vividly.  Silhouetted against the glow were the
+dark figures of the incendiaries, like imps of the netherworld, leaping
+and howling in drunken joy, and Dasso guessed, and rightly, that some
+of the choice vintages it had been his whim to lay down had fallen into
+their unappreciative hands.
+
+Higher and higher leaped the flames, casting a glow as of burnished
+copper on the dark violet of the sky.  Higher, too, rose the voices of
+the mob; they were singing now a song of the Estratos, and one which
+had not been heard in the streets of Corbo for many a long day.
+
+For perhaps half-an-hour the man stood in the doorway watching the
+downfall of his home and of his hopes.  Then, drawing his cloak round
+him and pulling his hat well over his face, he made his way to the
+Cathedral Square.
+
+He had to stop many times on the way to slip into the friendly shadow
+of some porch.  Late as it was, the town seemed _en fete_ on this night
+when their king lay dead in the Palace.  The cafes were open and
+crowded with revellers, and bands of youths rushed madly past the
+homeless man, attracted by that beacon shining in the sky which
+promised devilment and plunder.  It took Dasso, perhaps, half-an-hour
+before he emerged into the comparative quiet of the square facing the
+Cathedral.
+
+At the side door of a dirty little hotel he stopped and rapped.  The
+door was opened by the landlord himself, an evil-looking ruffian, who
+held the candle he carried up high to see who it was who came knocking
+at this late hour.  Dasso took off his hat.  The innkeeper fell back.
+
+"Senor Dasso--why, what brings----"
+
+"Don't stand there talking, fool, I'm coming in."  He smiled cruelly.
+"You won't refuse a lodging to me, Gambi, surely."
+
+The old man drew aside, and the hand holding the candle trembled.  The
+visitor made his way into the kitchen of the hotel.
+
+
+For a fortnight now the man had been sitting almost incessantly at the
+window looking down into the Cathedral Square.  He had seen many
+happenings--the State procession of the new King and Queen when they
+attended Mass, the shouts of the multitude, and the smiles of the royal
+beauty in the carriage.
+
+One night, too, a huge bonfire had been lighted in the square, and an
+effigy, whom he had no difficulty in recognizing, had been burnt to the
+accompaniment of drunken jeers and savage howls of execration.
+
+The innkeeper, whose many misdeeds made him loath to offend his
+unwelcome guest, to whom they were well known, told him that the people
+were searching high and low for him, and that they had now come to the
+conclusion that he had left the island.
+
+"In another week or two, Gambi, when my beard has grown more, their
+conclusion will be justified," Dasso had remarked, and the innkeeper
+had been very relieved indeed to hear it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+THE IMPOSTOR
+
+The sun newly sunk behind the Yeldo Hills had stained the sky with rose
+and amber, and it was very peaceful in the darkening grounds of the
+Palace of Corbo.
+
+The woods were alive with the evening songs of the birds, and a light
+wind that blew in from the sea brought with it the chimes from the
+Cathedral belfry.  The shrubberies loomed big in the violet twilight
+and afar out the sea lay placid, steel-blue and mysterious.
+
+Edward Povey, surveying the scene from the comfort of a bath-chair, was
+putting to himself a few pertinent and very necessary questions.  Some
+lines which he had heard years back came into his mind, he couldn't
+remember them exactly, but they had to do with what the devil would do
+when he was sick.
+
+Amongst other thoughts which crowded into the brain of Mr. Povey were
+the warm feelings he had experienced towards Charlotte when, as he
+thought, he lay dying in Enrico's death chamber, and he told himself
+that they were very right thoughts to have.
+
+He remembered also the events of the past few months, Galva's
+unremitting care and tenderness to him during the period of his
+convalescence.  The thought that the time had now come when his part in
+her affairs was done was a very bitter one, but as day followed day the
+feeling that he was an impostor grew stronger.  He had long thought
+that he must get away from it all.  Every kind word, every smile was a
+stab to him.  To explain matters now would do no good, spoiling as it
+would Galva's happiness.  He hated, too, to think of her eyes regarding
+him in any other way but with admiration, the thought of the disgust
+that might show in her face unnerved him.  He felt very thankful that
+his fears of death had been premature, and that he had been spared to
+witness the reception by the Corbians of their new Queen, but, at the
+same time, the grim visitor would at least have put him out of his
+predicament.
+
+His recovery had not been rapid enough to allow of his attending the
+festivities of the Coronation, which had taken place with much pomp and
+circumstance a few weeks after Enrico had been laid in the Cathedral.
+The kindly doctor, however, had permitted the invalid's couch to be
+wheeled out on to one of the balconies of his room.
+
+From there he had seen the procession leave the palace, had noted the
+enthusiasm of the holiday crowd, and, best of all, had seen Galva turn
+in her carriage and wave her bouquet of orchids at his balcony.  Then
+the cavalcade, winding like a gaily coloured stream of ribbon, had been
+swallowed up in the twistings and turnings of the old town, and Povey,
+lying there in the genial afternoon sunshine, had been left to imagine
+the rest.
+
+By the aid of his field glasses he had seen the bunting and banners
+fluttering bravely on the buildings in the town, which lay spread out
+beneath him shining like a jeweller's tray of gems in the sun-rays.  He
+had seen the yachts in the bay gay with little flags.  He had heard,
+too, the bells pealing joyously from the tall belfry of the Cathedral,
+the firing of the guns on the fort, and the distant murmur of the
+people cheering their Queen.
+
+He had said a little prayer for everybody and had fallen asleep there
+on the flower-decked balcony.  When he awoke he was again in his room
+and the candles were being lit.
+
+The Queen of San Pietro stood there before him flushed with her
+happiness and resplendent in her finery of state.  Her little head was
+thrown slightly back and she appeared taller than she really was in the
+sweeping mantle of crimson and ermine which fell from her shoulders and
+spread out on the carpet behind her.  As she noted the wondering
+admiration on Edward's face she gave him a delightful little smile.
+
+"A right down, regular, Royal Queen," she quoted gaily as she dropped
+an elegant curtsey.  "Oh, guardy dear, it's been splendid--just
+splendid--nothing but sun and cheers and flowers--and joy."
+
+She turned to her husband who was standing a little behind her, for the
+ceremonies in the Cathedral had been twofold that day, and the
+Archbishop who had placed the crown on the little head, had, in the
+little private chapel, placed a circlet of gold also on the Queen's
+finger.
+
+"I didn't see a single house, Armand," she ran on, "that was not flying
+a flag.  And to think that we owe all this to guardy here.  If he had
+died, and we really thought he was going to, didn't we?  there would
+have been no joy, then, only----"
+
+She had leant over and kissed him and Armand had taken his hand and
+gripped it hard.  Was it any wonder that the explanation that had
+hovered so long on Edward's lips retired from the unequal contest?
+
+And now as he sat in his bath-chair he remembered all these things, and
+sighed regretfully as he told himself that there was only one way left
+for him in honour to take.  It was time for him to leave the stage, to
+take off the motley, for he had no part in the next act of the drama.
+
+The attendant, who in the gorgeous Estrato livery was slowly propelling
+the chair, pulled up rather suddenly, as, turning into one of the
+alley-ways which led back to the palace he came in sight of the figure
+of a woman.  Anna Paluda turned at the sound of the wheels on the
+gravel, and Edward saw that she thrust a paper hurriedly into the black
+silk reticule hanging by a cord from her waist.  Her manner, too, as
+she came towards him, was, he thought, a little strained.  Evidently
+Madame Anna Paluda had been taken somewhat unawares.
+
+For a little while, after greeting Edward, she walked on beside the
+bath-chair, speaking of commonplaces, on subjects ranging from the
+politics (such as they were) of San Pietro to the evening light shining
+in the western windows of the palace.  Then a sudden thought came to
+the man in the chair and he turned to the lady by his side.
+
+"This chair is quite light, Anna; do you think you could--or better
+still, I will walk the rest of the distance, it isn't far."
+
+"You'll do nothing of the sort.  I know you _can_ walk, but you will
+find the air chilly after all those rugs."  She turned to the
+attendant, "You can go, Juan--I will attend to Mr. Sydney."
+
+With a bow the man left them, and Anna, taking the handle, leant over
+to the occupant of the chair.
+
+"You wanted to say something to me?"
+
+A moment's final hesitation, then Edward took the plunge.
+
+"Yes, Anna, I wanted to tell you that I intend leaving Corbo for
+England as soon as the doctor will let me.  My business, you know--I've
+been away from it long enough."
+
+"But you will come back, Mr. Sydney?"
+
+"Oh yes--that is, I----Oh, I'm sure to come
+back--yes--sure--to--come--back."
+
+Had Edward been facing Anna as he spoke he would have noticed a curious
+light creep into the black eyes, as though something had occurred
+suddenly to her.  One hand involuntarily left the handle of the chair
+and caressed the black silk reticule.  As she felt the paper under her
+fingers she smiled.
+
+"But--some one will have to go with you--you have had an illness--it
+isn't safe, is it, for you to travel alone?"
+
+"Tut, tut, Anna, I'm fit as a cello.  Why, I walked twice round the
+palace this morning; besides, I'm not going to-morrow."  Now that his
+departure had been decided on, and he had burnt his boats, he felt
+disposed to allow himself the luxury of delay.  "It may be a month
+before I really go," he added.
+
+Again Edward would have seen a look come into Anna's
+eyes--disappointment this time, unmistakable disappointment at his last
+words.
+
+But the woman said nothing, and before Edward spoke again the chair had
+reached the doorway of the palace and footmen were assisting him to
+alight.
+
+Anna accompanied him up the broad staircase, until he reached the
+corridor on which his apartment was situated, then she turned and made
+her way swiftly to her own room.  Entering, she locked the door and
+crossed to the large wardrobe which took up one side of the apartment
+wall.  From beneath some clothes in a drawer she lifted her leather
+jewel case, and carrying it over to the dressing-table lit the candles
+which stood on either side of the draped mirror.  She selected a tiny
+key from the bunch at her waist and, opening the case, took out a box,
+a little cardboard box, which had once contained chocolates.  The lid
+was broken here and there, and had been carefully pasted together with
+scraps of plaster paper.  Anna removed the cover carefully and
+tenderly, and leant her head in her hands and gazed down at what lay
+therein.
+
+A baby shoe of white kid, soiled and still showing the shape of tiny
+toes, a bunch of faded ribbon, a little armless doll with staring beady
+eyes; and, most pathetic of all, two or three of the original
+chocolates the box had held--hard and colourless.
+
+The woman raised her head and looked at herself in the mirror.  She had
+not been crying, for her eyes were quite dry, but into them had come a
+look of determination, of a set purpose in which tears had no place and
+tenderness no part.  She looked again at the articles in the box.
+
+"A little while--not long now," she murmured, "then, perhaps I may
+weep."
+
+Silently she put away the baby relics back into the wardrobe drawer.
+Then from the reticule she took the letter she had been reading when
+Edward had come upon her in the grounds.  She smoothed out the creases
+and held it to the light on the dressing-table.  It was headed from the
+offices of _The Imparcial_, and read--
+
+
+"_MADAM,_
+
+"_Acting under your instructions, I have caused inquiries to be made by
+my correspondents in Paris, London and Vienna.  The man Dasso, who
+disappeared so suddenly from Corbo, had covered his traces so well that
+it was not until now that we have lit upon a clue of any sort._
+
+"_My Paris correspondent in the Rue Scribe, M. Dupine, has been
+watching, as you suggested, the places of entertainment and the
+restaurants on the boulevards.  Your idea that our man would appear
+sooner or later at one or the other of these was quite correct.  M.
+Dupine came face to face with him in the lounge of the Folies Bergere._
+
+"_Curiously enough, Dasso seemed to scent danger, for he left
+hurriedly, but Dupine succeeded in following him.  He tells me he
+(Dupine) was reading a copy of my paper at the time he saw Dasso, and
+attributes the latter's flight to that fact._
+
+"_Dasso left the Gare St. Lazare the next morning, travelling to
+Dieppe, and so across the Channel._
+
+"_Dupine, being now known by sight to Dasso, wisely refrained from
+following him on to the boat, where he would have certainly been
+observed, but wired comprehensively to a confrere in Brighton to motor
+over to Newhaven and take up the chase._
+
+"_I have heard only this morning that this gentleman has been
+successful, and that Dasso is now staying in unpretentious lodgings in
+Bloomsbury, No. _9,_ Dorrington Street._
+
+"_Having thus, madam, followed out your wishes, I have only to assure
+you that my information will be kept secret until such time as you give
+consent for publication.  I thank you for your promise that I shall
+have first and exclusive news of eventualities, and beg to assure you
+of my devoted services._
+
+  "_I am, madam,_
+    "_Yours obediently,_
+      _ALFONSO PINZATO_
+        "_(Editor)_."
+
+
+For a long time the excuse that she would have to make to Galva before
+she could leave the island had been worrying Anna.  She thought of
+Edward as she folded the letter and put it away.
+
+"Yes, some one must travel with him--Galva would never let him go
+alone.  Edward Sydney, the sooner you are able to travel the better I
+shall be pleased."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+EDWARD DEPARTS
+
+Edward's convalescence progressed apace when once his course of action
+was decided upon.  It had been a severe blow to Galva's happiness that
+she was so soon to lose the little friend whom she had come to love--a
+blow that was not softened by Anna's asking permission to accompany him.
+
+That her guardian was not sufficiently well to travel alone, however,
+made the woman's request a perfectly natural one, and when at last
+Edward and his self-appointed nurse, the farewells over, entered the
+carriage that was to convey them to the dock-side, the Queen met the
+situation bravely.
+
+It was not until, from an upper window of the palace, she had seen the
+boat dip below the horizon, that the fall extent of her loss came home
+to her.  She remembered, with a little catch at the heart, that Edward,
+whilst seeming to answer her many questions as to his return, had
+really most successfully evaded them.
+
+Anna she was certain of.  The new rulers of San Pietro had decided that
+in a month or so they would take a holiday, a little trip in which for
+a week or two they would become again just ordinary people.  As the
+Duke and Duchess Armand de Choleaux Lasuer they would renew their
+acquaintance with the French capital and the long, straight motor
+roads, and afterwards, as Mr. and Mrs. Baxendale, they would take up
+their abode at the little Cornish cottage on the purple moors which the
+girl, in secret, so longed to see again.
+
+There they were to rejoin Anna, who would have all in readiness for
+them, and she looked forward with delight to the time when she could
+wander at evening over the hills above Tremoor, watching the
+lighthouses flash their warnings out over the sea and the gulls circle
+and scream above the rocky cliffs and the restless Atlantic.  It would
+be a real honeymoon.  Armand had never been in the "Delectable Duchy,"
+and Galva was never tired of thinking of the things she could show him
+in the glorious land where her girlhood had been spent so happily.
+
+The court they held at Corbo was unpretentious in the extreme, and
+after the coronation and the state receptions attendant thereon, life
+at the palace had quieted down to a peaceful existence untrammelled by
+the ceremonies which appertained to larger and more important kingdoms.
+
+The girl-queen often wondered what it would have been like had she been
+alone.  With Armand it was just as though they were living in a
+glorious country home; they drove out unattended, and took motor rides
+to one or other of their houses in the other parts of the island with
+as much privacy as they had run out to Fontainebleau in the days when
+they had first met.
+
+The business pertaining to the State of San Pietro was slight, and
+Senor Luazo, who had been elevated to the post of Chancellor, proved
+himself invaluable.  Galva saw to it that the abuses which had sprung
+into being under the administration of King Enrico were remedied.
+Trade improved, visitors, attracted by the royal love story, came in
+increased numbers.  The Corbians at heart were a lazy, contented
+people, and if only left alone the little toy kingdom really seemed to
+rule itself.
+
+
+The boat train had drawn up at Victoria a few minutes after seven
+o'clock, and still Edward and Anna were sitting in one of the cushioned
+alcoves of the station buffet drinking coffee.
+
+They each knew that their journey, in company, had come to an end, and
+they mutually avoided the subject of separation.  Each felt that the
+address to which he or she were going would be expected by the other,
+and each was unwilling to give it.  And so they sat and talked of many
+things until the clock pointed to nine o'clock.  Then Anna rose and
+held out her hand.
+
+"Well--good-bye for the present, Mr. Sydney," she said nervously, "I
+can write to you--where?"
+
+"Oh, yes--Anna--good-bye.  I--I'm a little uncertain as to my movements
+for the next few days.  I--oh, by the bye, where are you staying?"
+
+Anna Paluda bent down and took up her jewel case and handbag.
+
+"Well, Mr. Sydney--I'm like you--uncertain.  I have an aunt--but she
+may be away.  Suppose we communicate in the agony column of the
+_Morning Post_--that will be romantic, won't it?" with a little smile.
+
+"Er--yes--just the very thing.  E.S. to A.P.--well, good-bye again.
+I'll get you a cab."
+
+Under the glass-covered yard Edward handed Anna into a taxi which had
+just driven up and deposited a passenger.  He tried to catch the
+address the woman whispered to the driver, but she spoke very low and
+he was unsuccessful.
+
+He stood on the curb with his hat in his hand, smiling his farewells
+until the cab had passed through the gates.  Then he gave a little sigh
+and made his way in the direction of the Park.
+
+"So that is all," he murmured sadly to himself.  "God's in His heaven,
+Galva's on her throne, all's right with the world--and Edward Povey's
+little flutter is over."
+
+He turned slowly through the gates, and stood looking at the facade of
+Buckingham Palace.  And as he gazed at the rows of windows and at the
+railed courtyard, with the sentries, his thoughts turned to another
+palace, a palace under a blue sky and which overlooked a glittering
+jewel city in the sun-kissed waters of a southern sea.
+
+"God bless _my_ little Queen," he said, and turned and walked to where
+the lights of Piccadilly were shining in the sky.
+
+He wandered aimlessly along among the evening throng of pleasure
+seekers.  He felt lost, he seemed to have forgotten that London
+existed.  He turned into the Monico and drank a whisky and soda, and as
+he came out he saw a green 'bus drawing up at the curb outside the
+Pavilion music hall.  The conductor was shouting--"Russell Square,
+King's Cross."
+
+"Do you pass Abbot's Hotel?" Edward asked.
+
+"Just near it, sir."
+
+And Edward, giving himself no time for second thoughts, mounted to the
+top.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+BLOOMSBURY
+
+Edward entered the little vestibule of the select Bloomsbury hotel, and
+crossing to the office window, behind which sat a sleepy-looking
+book-keeper, asked for an envelope.  Then taking a card from his pocket
+he scribbled a few words on it and enclosing it requested that it be
+taken up to Mrs. Povey.
+
+A few minutes later he was following an attendant up the broad flight
+of carpeted stairs.  It was then five minutes past ten by the clock
+which stood ticking sonorously in a corner of the landing.
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+At twenty minutes to eleven Edward Povey descended the stairs and,
+walking quickly through the vestibule, emerged into Russell Square.
+There were but few people about, and no one seemed to notice the little
+figure which stood in indecision on the curb.  Even had they done so it
+would have taken a student of human physiognomy of no mean order to
+read what was written on Edward's face.  Some would have said that
+there was an expression of sorrow behind the eyes, others would have
+imagined a suggestion of a smile at the corners of the mouth, and on
+the whole countenance a look of joyful relief.
+
+For some moments he stood, gazing out across the road at the lights of
+the Hotel Russell, and at the cabs and taxis that were drawing up
+before it.  Then he turned with a little sigh, and made his way down
+Southampton Row, and along past the Museum into the glare of light at
+the end of the Tottenham Court Road.  Here the sight of the restaurants
+reminded him that it was mid-day when he had taken his last meal.  With
+the thought he crossed the road and walked up Oxford Street to
+Frascati's.
+
+The supper crush in the great circular room had well began, but Edward
+was fortunate in finding a little table near the orchestra, and he
+prepared to order himself a meal in keeping with his feelings of the
+moment--some soup, a couple of kidneys, a kirsch omelette and a small
+bottle of hock.
+
+He ate slowly and in a lazy contentment.  At intervals his face changed
+its expression, now frowning slightly, now smiling.  He asked the
+waiter who served him with his coffee to bring him writing materials,
+and pushed a clear space among the plates and glasses on the table.
+For perhaps ten minutes he sat deep in thought staring at the blotter,
+keeping time absently to a rag-time melody the little band had struck
+up by tapping his pen on the inkstand.
+
+Then he squared his shoulders, finished his coffee at a gulp, and
+wrote--
+
+
+"_MY DEAR CHARLOTTE,_
+
+"_I have been thinking things over, and I am willing to admit that I am
+not, after all, wholly surprised at the reception you gave me when I
+called on you this evening.  But I may also say, that knowing you as I
+do, I was not prepared for the manner in which you acted._
+
+"_It appears to me that you might, perhaps, had you thought, chosen
+your expressions better.  You could have been quite as effective had
+you been a little less vulgar, and you could have couched your
+suspicions of me in a less offensive manner.  But let it pass._
+
+"_I can only surmise that the life of ease that you have been living
+for the past few months has entirely unfitted you for the management
+and duties of a home.  I take it also that what you are pleased to term
+my desertion of you, accompanied as it was by ample provision for your
+wants, has not been distasteful to you._
+
+"_Perhaps you are right--that we had better continue to live apart.  I
+am afraid that the future would hold many little rifts.  Personally, I
+have led a larger, fuller life since I left England, and have seen many
+adventures (you would be surprised to hear that I still have a bullet
+in my back which I will carry to my grave).  Yes, I am afraid our
+former existence would irritate me beyond measure.  Your allowance will
+be paid to you as formerly.  You need have no compunction in taking the
+money.  It was fairly earned by bringing to a successful issue a
+difficult and delicate affair of business._
+
+"_Again, there would always be friction between us on account of our
+several acquaintances.  I have mixed with the highest in the land, and
+could never tolerate the state of intimacy you tell me you are in with
+Uncle Jasper, a man I never pretended that I had the least affection
+for.  He is a low fellow--and you know what I think of your Aunt Eliza._
+
+"_And so, Charlotte, we will go our own ways.  The suggestion I made
+to-night that we should meet each anniversary of our wedding-day and
+dine together, I consider a good one.  This will be a standing
+appointment, under the clock at Charing Cross Station, at seven, each
+third of May._
+
+"_I am glad to think that we remain friends._
+
+  "_I am, dear Charlotte,_
+    "_Your affectionate husband,_
+        "_EDWARD._"
+
+
+Povey posted this letter at the office in Oxford Street, afterwards
+taking a cab to Victoria.  Here he reclaimed his personal luggage, and
+had it conveyed into the Grosvenor, in which excellent hotel he engaged
+a modest apartment.
+
+
+The taxi-cab which Edward had seen leave the courtyard of the station,
+and which contained Anna Paluda, bowled merrily up Victoria Street,
+across Trafalgar Square, and so on to Gower Street, turning off into a
+narrow and somewhat dingy thoroughfare which ran behind the Museum.
+
+At Number 9, Dorrington Street, the cab drew up and Anna alighted.  The
+driver had not particularly noticed the fare who had engaged him or he
+would have seen a vast difference in the woman who now tendered him a
+shilling and a half-crown, to the one who had entered his cab at
+Victoria.
+
+The white hair which was so strong and noticeable a feature in the
+personality of Anna Paluda was now entirely covered up by a well-made
+wig of black-brown, drawn down over the ears, and a pair of
+slightly-smoked spectacles hid the piercing black eyes.
+
+But a heavy veil made this alteration in the appearance of the lady
+very slight to the casual observer, and the chauffeur noticed nothing
+as, touching his cap, he restarted his car, leaving Anna standing on
+the pavement, her jewel case and handbag in her hands, looking up at
+Number 9.
+
+It was a cheerless enough sight, dingy in the extreme, and the woman
+wondered that the fastidious Gabriel Dasso should have chosen such a
+habitation.  But it was an admirable hiding-place, and doubtless the
+ex-dictator had only intended that it should be a temporary one.  Who
+would think of looking for the dilettante fugitive among these sordid
+surroundings?
+
+A few stone steps flanked by broken iron railings led up to a faded and
+blistered street-door that once had been green.  The brass numeral
+under the knocker was hanging by one screw, and had fallen round so
+that it might as well have been six as nine.  As Anna ascended the
+steps she caught a glimpse of a dirty area in which the street-lamp
+showed a littered profusion of bottles and jars.  On a spike of one of
+the railings hung a tarnished and battered milk-can.
+
+There was a semi-circular fanlight over the door through the grimy
+panes of which a gas-jet, innocent of globe, gave a dull glow.  A light
+also showed beneath the blinds of the windows flanking the door-step.
+In the room within some one was thumping out a dismal melody on a
+cracked pianoforte.
+
+The woman waited a moment to compose herself, then reached out and
+pulled the bell-handle.  There was a jangle of wires, and somewhere at
+the back of the house a bell tinkled.  The musician stopped in the
+middle of a bar, and there was silence for a few moments.  Then she
+heard a door opened, and a shrill feminine voice shouted--
+
+"Liz!"
+
+Shuffling footsteps approached the door, a chain was unfastened, and
+the catch pulled back.  Framed in the aperture stood a servant girl,
+small in stature, and of a dirtiness unbelievable.  This presumably was
+Liz.
+
+"I see you have a card in the window----"
+
+"Rooms, eh, mum?  Come inside, will yer?"
+
+The small domestic stood aside to allow Anna to pass into the hall,
+then carefully wiping her hands on the torn square of coarse sacking
+which constituted her apron, Liz tapped at a door, and, pushing it
+open, motioned the visitor to walk in.  Anna Paluda did so, and found
+herself in the apartment that contained the piano.
+
+The room showed traces of a glory that had long departed.  The
+furniture for the most part had been good, and was of that peculiar
+comfortless family of horsehair and mahogany with which the
+mid-Victorian epoch was blessed.  There were a few pictures on the
+wall, one or two of which looked as though they might prove valuable
+could one penetrate beneath the grime with which they were covered.
+
+There was an oval table in the centre of the room, from which the cloth
+had evidently been hurriedly cleared at the visitor's ring.  Anna could
+see its crumpled dirtiness peeping from a drawer in the sideboard into
+which it had been hurriedly thrust.  Glimpses of crockery showed
+beneath the shabby sofa, and over all was the same objectionable odour
+of meals which Anna had noticed even in the hall.
+
+The person who rose from an arm-chair by the fire, and advanced a
+little to meet her, fitted the room to a nicety.  She, too, was
+mid-Victorian, and, like her surroundings, had once been handsome.  Her
+faded tea-gown was trimmed with still more faded lace, and faded
+ribbons nodded wearily in her faded cap.
+
+Her face was pale and thin and worn, but there was a little smile which
+came into her pale blue eyes as she guessed Anna's errand.
+
+"You have come about a room, madam?"
+
+Anna nodded.
+
+"Yes, for a few weeks--just a bed-sitting room.  I want to be quiet.
+By the way, have you many other lodgers?"
+
+"Two, madam; a lady on this floor"--pointing to the folding doors--"and
+a gentleman on the floor above.  It is the room behind his that you can
+have, or one above it in the front."
+
+"I think the back would suit me.  The traffic at night cannot keep me
+awake there.  Is the gentleman of quiet habits?"
+
+"Quite.  Mr. Gabriel is a foreigner, but he is most regular in all his
+habits.  He is at home all day, reading, and he goes out in the
+evening.  He comes in late, but we never hear him."
+
+Anna followed the faded landlady up the creaking stairs, and gazed
+round as the woman held the candle up for her survey of the room.  She
+did not take much notice of the furniture.  The room seemed airy and
+clean, and she agreed to the price named without demur, forestalling
+the request for references which she saw trembling on the lady's lips
+by paying rent for a month in advance.
+
+As she removed her bonnet and cloak she asked that a cup of tea might
+be served to her in her room.  This in due course was brought up by
+Liz, whose appearance had undergone a slight change for the better.
+The new lodger made friends at once with the little maid of all work,
+seeing in her a possible ally of the future, and, without directly
+asking questions, she managed to get Liz to talk, and from her she soon
+learnt some of the ways of her fellow-lodger.
+
+She discovered that Mr. Gabriel left the house about eight to half-past
+each evening.  "An awful swell, mum; puts on a clean shirt every
+blessed night, an 'as one of them smash 'ats."  When he came in the
+girl could not tell; they all went to bed and left his supper ready for
+him--"not much, only a basin of cold beef-tea, _consommy_ 'e calls it."
+
+"In his room, I suppose?"
+
+"Lor' love yer, mum, not 'im--you don't catch anybody in 'is room when
+'e goes out.  'E locks it up.  I makes the bed and all that while 'e's
+there in the mornin'."
+
+After the girl had gone up to bed, Anna sat up reading until the chimes
+of some near-by church clock told the hour of midnight.  All was silent
+in No. 9, Dorrington Street.  Outside, too, it was quiet, only
+sometimes a hansom would rattle past the front of the house, its bells
+jingling, and the horse's hoofs beating merrily on the asphalt.
+
+The woman rose and looked out into the hall.  On a bracket stood an
+evil-smelling oil-lamp turned down low.  Beside it a brass tray
+contained the basin of _consomme_ and a dingy little metal cruet.
+There were two letters there also, addressed to Mr. Gabriel, and Anna
+took them up to examine them.
+
+They were in her hands when she started suddenly and put them back on
+the tray.  There was the sound of a key being inserted in the street
+door below, and hastily slipping back into her room, Anna put out her
+light and closed the door.
+
+She heard the man come up the stairs and unlock his door and carry the
+tray into his room.  Then a match was struck, and with a start Anna
+noticed a thin streak of light break out in the darkness of the wall
+beside her.
+
+She noticed then for the first time that the rooms, like those below,
+were separated by folding doors, but in the case of the first floor
+they had been fastened up, and on her side had been papered over and a
+heavy wardrobe placed against them.
+
+Eagerly Anna Paluda placed her eye to the crack of light beside the
+massive piece of furniture, but she could see nothing.  She determined
+that when Dasso went out on the following evening she would see what
+could be done to widen the crack in the papered door.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+REVENGE
+
+A week after Anna had taken up her residence at No. 9, Dorrington
+Street, Senor Gabriel Dasso, as usual, left the house about eight
+o'clock.  He had seen his fellow-lodger for the first time when he had
+passed her in the dimness of the stairs that night as he went out.
+
+But the heavily veiled lady conveyed nothing to him at the moment, and
+the stairs disguised the height, which was so strong a characteristic
+of Madame Paluda.  Dasso had merely raised his hat and passed on.
+
+For some reason a bad mood was upon the ex-dictator of San Pietro.  He
+dined as usual at an exclusive little restaurant in Soho, but his
+favourite dishes gave him no pleasure, and although he drank twice as
+much wine as was his custom, the black dog had settled firmly on his
+back and refused to be dislodged.
+
+The hole-and-corner life he was leading was becoming very wearisome to
+a man of his tastes, and his long daylight sittings in the little
+Bloomsbury room were getting sadly on his nerves.  As he sat over his
+coffee and cognac he asked himself whether all this hiding was
+necessary, after all.
+
+It was only the memory of the man he had seen reading the _Imparcial_
+in Paris which had prompted him to this secrecy.  After all, it may
+have been a coincidence.  True, the man had also been seen at Dieppe,
+but perhaps that was another coincidence.  He had certainly not
+embarked on the _Arundel_ with him, and at Newhaven Dasso had noticed
+nothing suspicious.
+
+No, it was absurd; in the morning he would leave Dorrington Street and
+take up his residence at some hotel and live a life more fitted to his
+tastes.  Mozara's body, he told himself, would have been burnt out of
+all recognition in the fire--and ashes tell no tales.
+
+Curiously enough, however, the woman he had passed on the stairs would
+come unbidden into his mind.  Perhaps some turn of the head, some
+gesture, some mannerism, reminded him of some one he had seen before.
+Later, as he walked round the promenade of the Empire the memory of the
+woman on the stairs remained with him.  He was drinking heavily
+to-night, and as he drank the depression he had felt earlier in the
+evening returned to him tenfold; something seemed to tell him that
+retribution was on his heels, and little devils hammered at the cells
+of his brain telling him that his hour had come.
+
+He walked home to Bloomsbury, but the exercise in the night air gave
+him no relief.  He was full of fancies--there were steps behind
+him--hands stretched out and touched his shoulder.  Once he seemed to
+hear his name called.  He cursed softly and told himself that it was
+nerves.  He had no right to coop himself up in these dingy
+surroundings.  It was life he wanted, rich and full.
+
+It was nerves, again, he said, that made him imagine that a bitter
+taste came into his mouth after he had drank his _consomme_ that night;
+perhaps that infernal Liz had put too much salt in it.
+
+As he undressed, a curious feeling of lassitude came over him.  He
+forgot his fears, forgot everything but that he wanted to sleep.  He
+sat on the edge of the little bed and fumbled with unhandy fingers with
+his collar stud, but he did not undo it.  With a little sigh his hands
+dropped nerveless into his lap and he fell back on the shabby
+eiderdown, his face pale and his breath coming in short, uneven gasps.
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+In the night Dasso dreamed a strange dream.  It seemed to him that he
+awoke to find the room hazy with the grey light of the dawning.
+Through the little crevices between the slats of the Venetian blinds
+the pale radiance edged its way, giving to objects in the room a
+ghostly and unwonted appearance.  Between the man on the bed and the
+window there seemed to stand the tall shadowy figure of a woman, a
+figure which, as he looked, moved steadily towards him.
+
+It seemed to Dasso that the woman bent over him and that two black
+piercing eyes burnt into his very soul.  He tried to speak but could
+not.  Then he heard a voice.  The figure was speaking to him in a
+whisper, low and vibrant with passion, telling him what the little
+devils had been hammering into his brain--that his hour had come.
+
+"--_your_ hour, Gabriel Dasso, and _my_ hour.  For fifteen years I have
+waited for this moment, and I have never doubted but that it would
+come----"
+
+The figure rose up and it seemed to Dasso that he watched her as she
+glided silently about the room.  It seemed to him that she took up the
+basin which had contained his _consomme_ and emptied the little liquid
+which remained into the mould of a pot containing a palm which stood in
+the alcove by the window.  The whisper went on, and now Dasso told
+himself that this was Miranda's companion who was in the room with him.
+
+"--and it is curious, is it not?  that so experienced a conspirator as
+Gabriel Dasso, master of plot and counterplot, should fail to notice
+that his soup had, shall we say, a _distinctive_ taste?  Is it not
+curious that he should not have noticed that the lock of his door had
+been tampered with?  You have been insensible some hours now--and you
+are bound and gagged.  But you are awake, Dasso, and you can see what I
+am doing."
+
+The figure came again over to the bed and bent down again above the
+bound figure.
+
+"I am a woman of peace, Dasso, and it is no crime I am committing--only
+an act of justice.  For fifteen years I have put the thought of
+vengeance out of my mind, considering the living before the dead.
+After to-night I will take my place again in the world, without regret
+and without exultation--I am a tragic figure, am I not? the mother of a
+murdered child.
+
+"Any time in those fifteen years I could have killed you, you did not
+know me well and it would have been easy.  But I _wanted_ you to know
+me and to know why I am doing this.  Perhaps God will let your agony be
+your expiation."
+
+The figure rose up and crossed over to the little gas stove that stood
+in the fire-place.  In even tones she went on--
+
+"I am turning on the taps, here, Dasso, and all the crevices in the
+room are stopped up.  In a little while--when--when you are quite dead,
+I will put a cloth over my mouth and come in and cut off the scarves
+which bind you--they are silk and will leave no marks.  Then I will
+rouse the house and complain of a smell of gas, and afterwards there
+will be----"
+
+The vision of the woman with the piercing eyes grew gradually fainter
+.... and it seemed to Dasso that he awoke suddenly.
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+The room was quite light now.  It had been a bad dream.  Dasso tried to
+rise--why, what was this?
+
+His hands and legs were firmly bound and his jaws ached with the strain
+of the gag.  The air of the room was heavy with the fumes of gas, and
+his chest pained him as though it would burst.  In his ears were weird
+noises and he felt the sweat of fear wet upon his forehead.
+
+Air--he must have air.  The window near him seemed to mock him with its
+promise of life.  With an effort he managed to turn on his side, and
+inch by laborious inch, he worked his way to the edge of the bed--then
+on to the floor.
+
+He lay for a moment, breathing heavily, his heart beating in great
+blows against his ribs.  He struggled on to his knees and began a
+series of grotesque hops towards the window.
+
+But with each movement the effort grew more difficult and the strain on
+his heart grew tenser.  Twice he fell forward on to his face, once he
+struggled again to his feet.  The second time he remained lying where
+he had fallen, his head buried in the dusty fur rug beneath his goal.
+
+Below, in the street, he heard the jangle of milk cans.  Then a man
+cried cheerily to his horse and a cart rattled past the house.  Some
+sparrows flew past the window chirping and quarrelling--they made a
+shadow on the blinds and were gone.
+
+If only he could throw something and break a pane of glass.
+Air--air--not two feet away--and life----
+
+With a superhuman effort Dasso was on his knees again--then, a look of
+despair and a great fear came into the white staring face, and with no
+sound he rolled over and lay still.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+A FINAL NOTE BY EDWARD POVEY
+
+It may be a matter of some astonishment to the few people whom I number
+as my intimate friends that the records of my doings from the time when
+Mr. Kyser accosted me as I leant on the parapet of London Bridge, to
+the time I left the kingdom of San Pietro, have not been chronicled by
+myself in the first person.
+
+To be candid, such was my original intention, and, indeed, I commenced
+the task only to find that it was beyond me.  There were certain
+incidents in the record where my actions, however well they turned out,
+were perhaps not the actions of a strictly honest man.  These (although
+I wish it to be clearly understood that I regret nothing) I felt that I
+could not write of without feeling a not unnatural bias.
+
+I claim that in my schemes I did harm to no one; I will even go further
+and claim that I have been the humble instrument by which happiness and
+a splendid inheritance came to Galva.  Had I returned Mr. Kyser's
+letter to America, it would probably never have reached Mr. Baxendale.
+If, in an after life, I meet this latter gentleman, I will have no
+fear.  The case of the San Pietro inheritance, had I not undertaken the
+matter, would have been thrown into the hands of some unknown and
+perhaps unscrupulous lawyer who would have exploited the affair for his
+benefit rather than Galva's.
+
+I do not wish to hide the fact that it was not alone the thought of
+this unknown girl which embarked me on my mission.  I believe that
+beneath the shell of the most ordinary existence there is a kernel of
+romance, and it was this which tempted me.
+
+I have always held that Romance is not dead, as some would have us
+believe, but that it is a question of environment.  I heard a lecturer
+once say that Yesterday was romantic, and so is To-morrow, but never
+To-day--our grandparents and grandchildren, but never our brothers and
+sisters.  Who can dare to say what lies beneath the most prosaic
+exterior?  Where is the line which marks the difference between the man
+who drives his omnibus down Cheapside and the charioteer of ancient
+Rome?  One wears a shiny felt hat, and the other, I believe, affected a
+fillet of gold in his hair.  Apart from that they are identical.  I
+once knew a man who wore side-whiskers and lectured in little halls on
+temperance, and I know for a fact that an ancestor of his helped to
+murder a cardinal on the steps of an Italian cathedral.  But I do not
+believe that romance is dead in my temperate friend, it is only
+dormant.  One of these days something will stir in his mind, and he
+will see things as they are, just as something stirred in me that
+evening I looked over London Bridge.  I do not expect he will murder a
+cardinal, they don't do those things now.  I know he feels secretly
+proud of his descent from his violent ancestor--the murder of a
+cardinal ages ago is so romantic--but should his brother shoot a
+curate, I think he would die of shame.  Yet the crimes are identical.
+Why is it?
+
+It is now two years since the events recorded in this book happened,
+and the proof sheets have just come from the friend who has taken upon
+himself the task of putting my notes into story form.  With them, there
+is a letter in which he asks me to write a final note--to tie a knot,
+as it were, in the string of the tale.
+
+I must pay my friend the compliment of saying that he has made good use
+of the data I have given him, and he has dealt as leniently as he could
+with my little failings.
+
+I have spent a very pleasant two years, and I gather from Charlotte
+that she is as happy as I am.  Perhaps, after one of our yearly dinners
+we will decide to take up again the life which was interrupted by the
+visit of Uncle Jasper.  I hope not, however.
+
+It is May now, a month which I always spend in the little cottage at
+Tremoor.  Their Majesties the King and Queen of San Pietro, travelling
+as Mr. and Mrs. Baxendale, come to Cornwall also and spend a week each
+year.  They will be here in a few days now, and with them they are
+bringing the Crown Prince, as sturdy a little Estrato as ever graced a
+cradle.  I saw him last January, for I spend the winters in the
+delightful climate of Corbo.  I do not stay at the palace, but find it
+more to my taste to take a suite of rooms at the Imperial, that new
+hotel which faces the bay near the Casino.
+
+I rode out to Casa Luzo a few days before I last left the island, and
+it was with very mixed feelings that I gazed on the stucco porch and
+the little garden.  I thought of Galva and Armand, of old Pieto and
+Teresa, and the ruffian who was wounded in the leg.  The place has been
+done up, and is, I think, in the possession of a wealthy fruit merchant
+of Madrid.
+
+Pieto and Teresa were well when I last saw them.  They keep a small inn
+on the Alcador Road, and by Teresa's careful watching of the stock, the
+worthy pair manage to wring from the business a fair living.  They
+receive also a yearly sum from the Royal Pensions list.
+
+Anna Paluda resides at the palace.  I often find myself wondering what
+business it was that really brought her to London with me.  In my
+pocket-book is an old and much folded cutting from the _Daily Mail_
+which has put strange fancies into my head.  One of these days I will
+show Anna the cutting and watch those great black eyes as she reads it.
+It is a report of an inquest and goes--
+
+
+"THE DORRINGTON STREET MYSTERY
+
+"_Yesterday Mr. Paxton, the coroner of St. Pancras, held an inquest on
+the body of the man Gabriel who was found dead in the first-floor room
+of a boarding-house in Dorrington Street._
+
+"_Mrs. Brand, the landlady, giving evidence, spoke of the curious
+habits of the deceased.  Mr. Gabriel took the room about a month ago
+and had lived a very retired life, going out only at night._
+
+"_The servant, Elizabeth Harker, gave corroborative evidence, and spoke
+of the discovery of the body.  She had been called at about half-past
+five in the morning by a Mrs. Graham, the lodger who rented the room
+next to the deceased.  The lady complained of a smell of gas, and,
+together with the witness, tried to rouse Mr. Gabriel.  No answer being
+given to their knocking, they turned the handle, and the door, to their
+surprise, came open._
+
+"_To a question from the coroner witness said that she had never known
+the deceased to sleep with his door unlocked._
+
+"_Further evidence was called showing that deceased had evidently
+destroyed all marks and papers that might lead to his identity.  The
+windows of the room had been carefully plugged up and two gas jets were
+turned full on._
+
+"_The coroner, in a few words to the jury, said that this was one of
+the many cases he had had to deal with of mysterious foreigners who met
+no less mysterious deaths in his district._
+
+"_From the evidence he should say that Mr. Gabriel was most anxious to
+hide his identity, and the evidence that he did not go out in daylight
+pointed to the fact that he went in fear of something.  The deceased
+seemed to be of Spanish nationality, and the recent disturbances in
+Barcelona made one wonder whether this man was not a refugee or a
+member of one of the numerous secret societies, whose plans, perhaps,
+he had betrayed.  It looked as though his fear had got the better of
+him at last, and that he had chosen death at his own hands rather than
+at those of his enemies._
+
+"_The jury, after a few moments' deliberation, returned a verdict of
+suicide.  The body, if not identified by to-morrow, will be buried by
+the authorities._
+
+"_A curious aspect of the case is that the Mrs. Graham who discovered
+the smell of gas has disappeared.  There is nothing to connect her with
+the tragedy, but her evidence might have thrown some light on the
+affair.  We understand the police, are making inquiries as to the
+missing woman, who took the room she occupied only a week ago._"
+
+
+The affair is now one of London's unsolved mysteries.  Personally I
+have, as I said, my fancies--the date of the cutting is ten days after
+my arrival, with Anna, in London--but it is no business of mine.
+
+It is peaceful here in this little spring-coloured garden.  The sun has
+just dropped down behind a bank of storm-clouds over the sea and the
+lights of Pendeen are flashing out.  A tramp steamer, miles away and
+looking like a toy on the broad Atlantic, is ploughing her way down
+towards the Longships.  Perhaps she is going to Bilbao, or even Corbo
+or Rozana.  Above me a large bird is planing on outstretched motionless
+wings in the copper blue of the sky, and the moors around me look like
+masses of crumpled mauve velvet in the darkening twilight.
+
+And I--I sit here and smoke a very excellent cigar and wonder if Fate
+will ever stretch out her hand again to pick me up and drop me again
+into the whirl of things.
+
+I say to myself that I hope not--and know that I lie.
+
+
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+_Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, London and Bungay_
+
+
+
+
+ROMANCES BY
+
+MAY WYNNE
+
+
+Henry of Navarre
+
+From the Play by Wm. Devereux, produced at the New Theatre with great
+success by Miss Julia Neilson and Mr. Fred Terry.
+
+
+Maid of Brittany
+
+A stirring Romance of the Fifteenth Century
+
+"It is an exciting tale, and is the sort of book that once taken up
+cannot be laid down until concluded.  At no period is it
+heavy."--_Daily Express_.
+
+
+When Terror Ruled
+
+A thrilling Story of the French Revolution
+
+"The tale moves along smoothly enough, and will give those who prefer
+their history served up in this guise a faint idea of the Terror and
+the character of the men and women who helped to make history in those
+troublesome times."--_Glasgow Herald_.
+
+
+Let Erin Remember
+
+An Irish Romance
+
+"An attractive romance which deserves a cordial
+recommendation."--_Irish Times_.
+
+
+For Charles the Rover
+
+"Miss May Wynne is a deft hand at historical romances, and her latest
+('For Charles the Rover') is quite one of her best."--_Daily Telegraph_.
+
+
+_JUST PUBLISHED_
+
+MISTRESS CYNTHIA
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Princess Galva, by David Whitelaw
+
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