During the recess members of the House may leave the country and their cares and const.i.tuencies behind them, but to the Minister for Foreign Affairs, the despatches go daily by messenger or by wire, and wherever he may be, he must attend to them. International politics brook no delay.
Upon Bracondale"s brow a shadow had fallen since he had scanned Charlton"s letter. More trouble with Germany had arisen.
But he put on a forced smile when, a moment later, he rejoined Jean, who was now standing in readiness with Miss Oliver and little Enid, the latter looking very sweet in her tiny Dutch bonnet and a little Paris-made coat of black and white check and white shoes and socks.
In a few moments they were in the big, open car, and were quickly driven through the pines and out upon the sea-road until, when on the railed esplanade at St. Addresse, the car pulled up suddenly at some steps which led down to the sands.
Just before he did so his lordship, addressing Jean, said:
"I know you will excuse me staying with you this morning, dear, but I must attend to those despatches Martin has brought. And they will certainly take me till luncheon. So I will see you down to the beach and then go back. The car shall come for you at half-past twelve."
"Oh, I"m so sorry," said Jean, regretfully. "But I know, dear, how worried you are. So I"ll forgive you. I shall spend a quiet morning with a book, and Enid will enjoy herself."
Then the car stopped, he got out, helped Enid and Miss Oliver down, and then gave his hand to Jean, who, with her dark cloak thrown over her white dress, looked extremely dainty, and much younger than her years.
While the car waited for them, all four descended to the beach, where little Enid with her governess went forward, while Bracondale and his wife walked along to a secluded corner in the rocks, where it was Jean"s habit to read while awaiting her little girl.
Then, after he had seen her comfortably settled in the shadow, for the sun was hot, he lit a cigarette and strolled back to where the car awaited him, absorbed in the international problem which had, according to Charlton, so suddenly arisen.
As he sat in the car and was whirled along the sea-front towards Monplaisir, he pa.s.sed a clean-shaven, well-dressed man in a dark suit with carefully-ironed trousers, his handkerchief showing from his jacket pocket, patent leather boots, grey spats, and a light grey Tyrolese hat.
The stranger gave him a curious, inquisitive glance as he pa.s.sed, then, looking after him, muttered some words beneath his breath.
The idler stood and watched the car disappear in the dust along the wide, straight road, and then he walked to the steps over which Jean had pa.s.sed and followed in her footsteps.
As a matter of fact, this was not the first occasion upon which the stranger had watched her ladyship.
On the previous day he had been pa.s.sing along a street in Havre when a big red car had pa.s.sed, and in it was her ladyship with little Lady Enid.
In a second, on looking up suddenly, he had recognised her.
But she had not seen him. At the moment she had been bending towards the child, b.u.t.toning up her coat.
The stranger, who had only the day previous arrived in Havre, and was awaiting a steamer to America, turned upon his heel and, chancing to meet a postman face to face, pointed out the car and asked in French whose it was.
The veteran, for he wore his medal, glanced at the car and replied:
"Ah! That is the automobile of the English lord. That is the Countess of Bracondale, his wife."
"Do they live here?"
"At the Villa Monplaisir, m"sieur, out on the road to Fecamp."
"Are they rich?" he asked unconcernedly.
"Oh, yes; Lord Bracondale is the English Minister for Foreign Affairs."
"Bracondale!" echoed the stranger, recognising the name for the first time. "And that is his wife?"
"Yes."
"And the child?"
"His daughter."
"Is Lady Bracondale often here, in Havre?" he inquired eagerly.
"Not often. Perhaps once a week in the season. She comes shopping,"
replied the grizzled old man, hitching up his box containing his letters.
"Look here, my friend," exclaimed the stranger. "Tell me something more about that lady." And he slipped a two-franc piece into the man"s hand.
"Ah! I fear I know but little--only what people say, m"sieur."
"What do they say?"
"That Madame the Countess, who is French, is a most devoted wife, although she is such a great lady--one of the greatest ladies in England, I believe. I have heard that they have half-a-dozen houses, and are enormously wealthy."
"Rich--eh?" remarked the inquirer, and his keen, dark eyes sparkled.
"You know nothing more?"
"No, m"sieur. But I daresay there are people out at St. Addresse who know much more than I do."
"_Bien. Bon jour_," said the stranger, and he pa.s.sed on, eager to make other and more diligent inquiries.
And the stranger, whose name was "Silas P. Hoggan, of San Diego, Cal.,"
was the same man who had watched the Earl of Bracondale depart in his car, and who now descended to the beach, following in the footsteps of the Countess.
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE BLOW.
With easy, leisurely gait, the man in the grey hat strode along the sands towards the rocks behind which the Countess and the governess had disappeared.
Upon his mobile lips played an evil, triumphant smile, in his keen eyes a sharp, sinister look as he went forward, his hands thrust carelessly into his jacket pocket.
His eyes were set searchingly upon the grey rocks before him, when suddenly he saw in the distance Miss Oliver and little Enid walking together. Therefore he knew that Lady Bracondale was alone.
"What luck!" he murmured. "I wonder how she"ll take it? To think that I should have been lying low in Trouville yonder all that time while she was living here. I"ve got ten louis, and a ticket for New York, but if you are cute, Ralph Ansell," he said, addressing himself, "you won"t want to use that ticket."
He chuckled and smiled.
"The Countess of Bracondale!" he muttered. "I wonder what lie she told the Earl? Perhaps she"s changed--become unscrupulous--since we last met.
I wonder?"