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diff --git a/34130.txt b/34130.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..43ecc42 --- /dev/null +++ b/34130.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7972 @@ +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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRINCESS GALVA *** + +***** This file should be named 34130.txt or 34130.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/1/3/34130/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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