CHAPTER VII.
THE TIME ARRIVES
Within a short time of Lord Cloverton"s return to the Emba.s.sy, spies and secret-service agents were abroad in the city endeavoring to discover the whereabouts of Princess Maritza. The Amba.s.sador at once telegraphed to the Foreign Office in London, and received the answer that the report of her return to Wallaria was absurd, that she was certainly on her way to Australia. This confident answer, however, did not satisfy Lord Cloverton, in spite of the fact that no news of the Princess was forth coming. That she could have returned to Sturatzberg without his knowledge, more, without the knowledge of any of those who were so eager to keep her out of the country, seemed impossible; but then in diplomacy it was often the impossible things which happened.
He was too astute a man to underrate the undoubted ability of De Froilette. There were few men who probed more accurately the likely trend of future events, or who were quicker to recognize opportunities and seize them than the Frenchman, and Lord Cloverton argued that he was far too clever a man to tell such an unlikely story merely to serve his own ends. He would know that the very improbability of the tale would have the effect of drawing attention to himself and his actions.
No, whether the report were true or not, De Froilette believed it, and evidently saw danger to himself in the presence of Princess Maritza.
At the same time he might perceive a favorable opportunity in the state of affairs to exploit his own plans, and Lord Cloverton took the precaution to have the Frenchman under careful observation.
The unexpected information had also caused the Amba.s.sador to reconsider Captain Ellerey"s position in Sturatzberg. It was quite possible that he knew more about the Princess than any one else. He was the kind of man who would have nerve and determination enough to attempt a desperate venture, and having little to lose and all to win, might go far toward success. He and De Froilette apparently held little communication with each other; the characteristics of the two men were antagonistic; and the Englishman might be quite as capable of playing a deep game as the Frenchman was.
It was a sleepless night for the Amba.s.sador. This was just such a complication as might embroil the nations of Europe in strife, an excuse which might serve to snap diplomatic relations and spread the lurid clouds of war from the Ural range to the sh.o.r.es of the Atlantic.
One thing seemed certain, De Froilette had not repeated his information broadcast. No intimation reached Lord Cloverton that the report had even been whispered in any of the other Emba.s.sies, and there was some consolation in this.
No news came during the following day. Wherever the Princess was, her secret was well kept, probably because only a few persons had been admitted into it, and it seemed evident that no special movement had taken place in her favor, or had even been arranged for. Some bold _coup d"etat_ might be in contemplation, and although the many and diverse interests in the country were probably sufficient to render any attempt abortive in itself, yet such an attempt might be the one thing needed to fan the smouldering ashes into flame, starting a conflagration which would burn throughout Europe. Such fires never die out--they are always smouldering.
Any person who had watched Lord Cloverton closely when he went to the palace that night, would have been struck by his particular alertness.
He was observant of the composition of the different groups in the rooms, of those who were chiefly about her Majesty, and of those who danced together. The slightest confidential whisper near him attracted his attention, and more than once he caused a blush to mount to a pretty woman"s cheeks by suddenly surprising a murmured love pa.s.sage meant for no other ears but her own. To those to whom he spoke he succeeded in giving the impression that he had only a few moments to spare them, that he was purposely keeping himself free, but he managed to suggest that it was not business, but some pleasure he antic.i.p.ated.
He glanced round all the rooms in search of Captain Ellerey, who either had not yet arrived, or had already retired into some quiet corner, probably with the Countess Mavrodin. The last conjecture was wrong, however, for standing in a position which commanded the entrance to the suite of state rooms, the Amba.s.sador presently saw Frina Mavrodin on the arm of an _attache_ of the Austrian Emba.s.sy, an offshoot of a princely house who, rumor said, had already been twice refused by the fair lady, and was only awaiting an opportunity to adventure his case for a third time. He was evidently persuading her to dance with him, and she was laughingly protesting, perhaps promising to do so later in the evening. She was, however, not averse to his company, for she palpably kept him by her side, and they remained talking and laughing together, the man extremely happy, the woman watchful and rather preoccupied, the Amba.s.sador thought.
For half an hour or more she remained there, evidently using the Austrian"s presence to keep herself free from other companions. Several spoke to her, but since the _attache_ did not move away, the new arrivals were obliged to leave her after exchanging a few words. At last Lord Cloverton noticed that the expression of her face suddenly changed. She looked at him, or rather beyond him, and turning to discover the cause, he saw Desmond Ellerey crossing the room toward her. He also became aware that Baron Petrescu was standing close to him and that he was watching Ellerey, too.
Frina Mavrodin spoke quickly to her cavalier, telling him perhaps where he would find her for the promised dance, but at any rate she dismissed him. For a few moments Ellerey stood beside her, her smiling face raised to his, and then they went slowly toward the ball-room.
"The little comedy interests you, my lord."
"Well, Baron, my white hair gives me credit for greater age than does the feeling of youth which is still in me. I am young enough, even now, to recognize love, and to take an interest in it--in others, of course."
Baron Petrescu shrugged his shoulders rather contemptuously.
"The moth ever flits to the candle, and usually gets burnt," he said.
"Would not the lodestone be the more apposite simile?" asked Lord Cloverton. "In that case the attraction brings no hurt, Baron."
"Time will show which is the best simile," was the answer. "He interests me, this Captain Ellerey."
"He interests the lady too, it seems," replied the Amba.s.sador. "Indeed, Captain Ellerey interests many people."
"I trust his courage is equal to his ambition," said the Baron with a smile. "There are others striving for the same prize, my lord, who do not easily accept defeat, and are content to pin their honor to the sword"s point."
"Jealous," said Lord Cloverton to himself as the Baron turned away, still with a smile upon his face, but with a movement of his shoulders which suggested an angry bird ruffling its feathers. "He means mischief.
Ellerey may find his hands fuller than he expects, if the Baron"s weapon is as ready as his tongue. Sentiment compels me to wish my countryman victory, but politically--ah! a cunning thrust which would lay him aside for a few weeks would be very convenient to me, and perhaps not the worst thing which could happen for him." And Lord Cloverton went toward the ball-room.
The Countess and her cavalier had disappeared.
"Are you still watching the Amba.s.sador?" Ellerey had asked, as she placed her hand upon his arm.
"No."
"Then let us get out of the crowd. Few people seem to know of the alcove off the ball-room."
"And why such a desire for solitude, Captain Ellerey?" she said, seating herself in a corner and making room for him beside her.
"Not solitude, Countess, but restful companionship. I am not desirous of living perpetually under the eye of Lord Cloverton, and, after what he said, I imagine he watches me pretty closely."
"And is as closely watched," she replied.
"Have you found out anything which affects me?" Ellerey asked after a pause.
She hesitated.
"Not directly."
"Indirectly, then?"
"Perhaps, a little. It is a small matter, but it interested me. It has nothing to do with Sturatzberg, but with England."
Ellerey was silent. Could Lord Cloverton have repeated his story?
"May I know the nature of the--crime is it?--which is imputed to me?"
"It is no crime, Captain Ellerey--rather a romance. I should have repudiated the idea of a crime in connection with you."
"Countess, that is the kindest thing you have ever said to me."
She looked into his face, and the color came into her own.
"Are we not friends?" she said, "and is it not the elemental part of friendship to believe nothing ill? I would hardly believe a confession of crime, though your own lips spoke it. No, this information was about a woman."
"Unknown women are a dangerous subject between us, Countess," said Ellerey, with a smile. "I am barely forgiven yet for the mysterious lady of the Altstra.s.se."
"This is not an unknown woman, but a very famous one--none other than Princess Maritza of Wallaria. You have heard of her?"
"I have not only heard of her, but seen her and spoken to her."
"And admired her?" she asked.
"Yes, her beauty and her indomitable courage."
"That is what I heard, that you admired her."
"It is a very strange thing for you to hear. I only saw her once, for ten minutes, perhaps. She was a schoolgirl, and playing truant. We met upon the downs one breezy morning, a hat blown away by the wind served for introduction, and I have never seen her since."
"It was not for her sake, then, that you came to Wallaria?"
"Ah! is that what Lord Cloverton thinks!" exclaimed Ellerey. "Now I understand his att.i.tude more clearly."