A Maker of History Part 39

"I need not explain, of course," the Duke continued, "that you will suffer by proxy. The whole affair has been carefully arranged by the commissioners of police.

"An account of your doings since you arrived in Paris will be given, which I fear may not flatter you, but you must remember that it is necessary to put our German friends completely off the scent, and in a month's time or so you will reappear, and everything will be contradicted."

"But my sister?" Guy exclaimed.

"Concerning your sister," the Duke continued, "we have further explanations, perhaps I should say apologies, to offer you at some future time. For the present--this only. She is now in Paris. She is to some extent in our confidence, and you shall see her within the next few days."

"And what are you going to do with me really?" Guy asked.

"You will remain here. Half the servants of the household have been dismissed, and every one who is not absolutely trustworthy has been got rid of. We are in close consultation with your English Cabinet, and the moment the time arrives for us to disclose our knowledge of these secrets you will be free to go where you please."

"Absolutely free?" Guy asked anxiously.

"Certainly!" the Duke answered. "The other little affair is cancelled by your present services. In fact, as regards that, you need not give yourself another moment's anxiety."

A small telephone which stood upon the table rang sharply. The Duke exchanged a few sentences and replaced the receiver. He turned to Guy.

"It is an affair of the tides," he said. "Your body was washed up this afternoon, six hours before time. It will be in the evening papers. Ah!"

The telephone rang again. This time it was Monsieur Grisson who was required. He listened for a moment or two with inscrutable countenance.

Then he glanced at the clock.

"The Russian Amba.s.sador," he said, replacing the receiver, "desires an immediate interview with me on a matter of the utmost importance--and the Russian Fleet has left the Baltic!"

CHAPTER IV

THE INSOLENCE OF MADAME LA MARQUISE

Duncombe was pa.s.sed from the concierge to a footman, and from a footman to a quietly dressed groom of the chambers, who brought him at last to Madame la Marquise. She gave him the tips of her fingers and a somewhat inquiring gaze.

"Sir George Duncombe, is it not?" she remarked. "I am not receiving this afternoon, but your message was so urgent. Forgive me, but it was not by any chance my husband whom you wished to see?"

"Your husband would have done as well, Madame," Duncombe answered bluntly, "but I learned that he was not at home. My visit is really to Miss Poynton. I should be exceedingly obliged if you would allow me the privilege of a few minutes' conversation with her."

The forehead of the Marquise was wrinkled with surprise. She stood amidst all the wonders of her magnificent drawing-room like a dainty Dresden doll--pet.i.te, cold, dressed to perfection. Her manner and her tone were alike frigid.

"But, Monsieur," she said, "that is wholly impossible. Mademoiselle is too thoroughly upset by the terrible news in the paper this morning. It is unheard of. Monsieur may call again if he is a friend of Mademoiselle Poynton's--say, in a fortnight."

"Marquise," he said, "it is necessary that I see Mademoiselle at once. I am the bearer of good news."

The Marquise looked at him steadily.

"Of good news, Monsieur?"

"Certainly!"

"But how can that be?"

"If Madame will give me the opportunity," he said, "I should only be too glad to explain--to Mademoiselle Poynton."

"If, indeed, it should be good news," the Marquise said slowly, "it were better broken gradually to Mademoiselle. I will take her a message."

"Permit me to see her, Marquise," he begged. "My errand is indeed important."

She shook her head.

"It is not," she said, "according to the _convenances_. Mademoiselle is under my protection. I have not the honor of knowing you, Monsieur."

Duncombe raised his eyebrows.

"But you remember calling at my house in Norfolk, and bringing Miss Poynton away," he said.

She stared at him calmly.

"The matter," she said, "has escaped my memory. I do not love your country, Monsieur, and my rare visits there do not linger in my mind."

"Your husband," he reminded her, "asked me to visit you here."

"My husband's friends," she replied, "are not mine."

The calm insolence of her manner towards him took him aback. He had scarcely expected such a reception.

"I can only apologize, Madame," he said with a bow, "for intruding. I will await your husband's return in the hall."

He bowed low, and turned to leave the room. He had almost reached the door before she stopped him.

"Wait!"

He turned round. Her voice was different.

"Come and sit down here," she said, pointing to a sofa by her side.

He obeyed her, thoroughly amazed. She leaned back amongst the cus.h.i.+ons and looked at him thoughtfully.

"How is it that you--an Englishman--speak French so well?" she asked.

"I lived in Paris for some years," he answered.

"Indeed! And yet you returned to--Norfolk, is it?"

He bowed.

"It is true, Madame!" he admitted.