Polly and Her Friends Abroad Part 25

CHAPTER XI-THE PLOT IN VENICE

That evening, at Turin, while the Fabian party were preparing to go out and see the city by night, the two young men excused themselves and were not seen again until the next day when the party were to start for Milan. Then they appeared as happy and ready to drive on as they were to join the tourists the day before at the foot of the Alps.

"I thought you had planned to remain in Turin?" said Mr. Fabian.

"We had, but upon getting in touch with Chalmys, we find he is now at his place near Venice, and we must meet him there. The rest of our crowd are there, too. So we will drive with you as far as you travel our road," explained Traviston.

"Do you know Count Chalmys?" asked everyone in chorus.

"Of course-do you?" returned the handsome boys.

"He toured with me all through Belgium and Holland," quickly bragged Mrs. Alexander, certain now that these two young men were "somebodies."

"Why-I really believe you are the people he wrote us about!" exclaimed Everard, honestly surprised at his discovery.

"Yes-he said there were four of the prettiest girls in the party, but he never mentioned their names," added Traviston.

Now the four girls smiled with gratification, and before they started for Milan, it was half decided to visit the Count at his Italian Estate, before going on to Rome, or other places south of Venice.

At Milan the young men said they would get in communication with the Count and arrange for their going there the next day, Mr. Fabian escorted his girls to the famous cathedral of Milan, and showed them the places of interest in the city, then they resumed the journey to Padua, where they purposed remaining over-night. From there they would drive to Chalmys Palace in the morning, just a few miles from Venice.

During the absence of Mr. Fabian and his companions on the tour of the city, Mrs. Alexander had determined to get all the information she could from the two young men, when they came back to the hotel. And they, seeing how eager she was for them to develop into superior beings of quality, thought to please her that way.

When her friends joined her at the hotel again, the two young men were not there, but she was bubbling over with wonderful news.

"I knew it! _I_ can tell the moment I see a young man with a t.i.tle. That one who calls himself Basil Traviston, is really a Marquis of France. He came into the t.i.tle a few weeks ago, but he doesn't seem to fuss about it any. And his cousin Alan Everard is the son of Count Chalmys. That is why they know him so well."

"The Count's son?" gasped Nancy Fabian, unbelievingly.

"Yes, and they were all in Paris together and had planned to join each other again at Venice. But they will meet at Chalmys Palace sooner than they had intended," explained Mrs. Alexander.

"Why, Maggie, that boy Everard is only some years younger than the Count, unless the Italian looks much younger than he is; besides that, if the Count is from Italy how can the French Marquis be the boy's cousin? And why do they come from the States?" asked Mr. Alexander deeply puzzled.

Mr. Fabian mistrusted the whole story, yet he had to admit that Traviston seemed most honest the day he spoke of his t.i.tle and name. So he said nothing, but hoped to be spared further agonies from Mrs.

Alexander's wors.h.i.+p of n.o.bility as per her ideals.

Mrs. Fabian was back with Mrs. Alexander, and the two boys were in their car; all were travelling along the road at a good speed, and the girls were picturing what the wonderful old Chalmys' palace would be like, when a long low car with splendid lines approached, coming from the opposite direction.

"If there isn't Chalmys! Coming to meet us!" exclaimed Traviston, to the people in the other cars.

"How lovely of him!" sighed Mrs. Alexander, almost running her car into the ditch in her eagerness to see the Count.

The long-nosed car drew up beside the touring car and the Count leaned over the side.

"Well, this is a great pleasure, Mr. Fabian! And the ladies-how are they? As beautiful as ever, I warrant," called he, gallantly.

The pa.s.sengers in Mr. Alexander's car exchanged pleasant greetings with the Count who then asked pardon while he welcomed his two friends. He urged his car along a few feet further until it was opposite the boys'

car, and there they conversed eagerly for a few minutes.

Mr. Alexander nudged Mr. Fabian and whispered: "Did you-all hear him say 'I want to speak to my two friends?' He diden' say 'I want to speak to my son.'"

Mr. Fabian nodded understandingly, but watched the Count closely. No look of paternal affection was given Everard, and if he was his son who had been absent from home so long, why wouldn't the impulsive Italian father greet him eagerly? It was a puzzle that became more intricate, to Mr. Fabian and Mr. Alexander.

The Count seemed to forget there were others nearby, and when he said: "The wire read for us to be ready for the scene at the Palace Dario, tomorrow night at nine. That is why I drove out to meet you. I'll be at the hotel tomorrow, myself, in time to go with you. Then we will all come back to the Palace the next day."

The two young men seemed regretful about something, but they nodded in acceptance of the Count's orders. Then the other members of the party were addressed.

"I find we all have to be present at Venice tomorrow night for an important engagement, and if you, my good friends, will pardon this change of plans, I will be under obligation to you if you go on to Venice now, and visit me at Chalmys Palace a few days hence."

Of course, everyone signified perfect satisfaction at changing the plans, so they all drove along the road together, towards Venice. The Count left them before reaching the city gates, and his last words were: "I will meet you at the hotel tomorrow evening, boys."

"Do you know, Fabian, it all sounds shady to me?" said little Mr.

Alexander, puckering his forehead over the queer case.

"It may be that we think it is strange because we haven't the key to the situation," said Mrs. Fabian, always ready to make allowances for people.

It was a novel experience to exchange motor-cars for the picturesque gondolas of Venice. But it was a luxurious exchange. As they floated along, Mrs. Alexander was deeply annoyed because she was separated from the young folks, and placed beside her husband, who was concerned about so many pigeons living in a city; the boys entertained the girls with descriptions of romances which had a splendid setting in Venice; then they told of the prominent Motion Picture companies who came all the way from America to take their pictures on the spot.

The first evening was spent in pa.s.sing through the Grand Ca.n.a.l and seeing the wonderful palaces on either side. Mr. Fabian knew the more famous buildings and called them out to his party in the other gondolas.

The gondolier pointed out the Custom House, the Mint, the Garden of the Royal Palace, and other buildings, before they came to a beautiful fairy-like palace.

"Isn't that a lovely place," remarked Polly, gazing at the very ancient-looking palace.

"That's the Palazzo Dario, of the 15th century, famous for its beauty and preservation," replied Alan Everard.

"Oh, is that where you are to--" began Dodo, but Polly nudged her suddenly and checked what she was about to say.

The two young men seemed not to have heard her unfinished sentence, and Mr. Fabian was all the more puzzled over the fact.

All the next day was spent in visiting the points of interest in Venice: the Palace of the Doges, the Museum and the famous old churches and palaces being on the list. The two young men had said they would have to be excused as they would be very busy all day, in order to be ready for the evening's engagement with the Count.

The very lack of guile and duplicity in the words and the manners of the young men, caused all the more concern over what was now looming up in the fancies of the adults in the Fabian party, as a plot that had been accidentally revealed by the Count.

Mr. Alexander said he would remain about the hotel while the others were sight-seeing, as he had no use for old buildings. So he waited until everyone had gone-the two boys to their appointment and the Fabian party to the palaces and museums, then he went upstairs and boldly entered the rooms occupied by the two suspected young men.

After half an hour of careful searching he came forth with a huge bundle under his arm and an exultant expression on his face. Late that afternoon when the tourists returned to the hotel to dress for dinner and then take a sail on the Ca.n.a.l, Mr. Alexander beckoned in a strange manner to Mr. Fabian.

Mr. Fabian followed the little man to his room, and when the door had been carefully closed and locked, the latter said: "Well, I unearthed the foxes! I stayed to home on purpose, today, to go through their belongings, and this is what I found!"

As he spoke, he lifted his coat from the pile on the table. Mr. Fabian wonderingly examined the articles displayed there. A number of brushes with silver backs were engraved with the name "Albert Brown." Several handkerchiefs were initialed "B.F.S." A fine Panama hat had a marker inside that read: "B.F. Smith." Other small objects which evidently belonged to the two young men bore their names or initials-the same as those already read by Mr. Fabian.

"It's all very queer, and I don't know what to make of it," remarked Mr.

Fabian, thoughtfully.

"Well, I tell you what I'd do! I'd tell them what we know of this and then clear them out. It's my opinion that that dark Count Chalmys fixed up something with these two good-lookers just to get us to visit his old palace and maybe play some tricks on us to get our cash," said Mr.

Alexander, rising to the very peak of tragic imagination.