Her Royal Highness - BestLightNovel.com
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"True, it may be your duty, but it is one that you will not perform, Signor Ghelardi. Think of the terrible scandal throughout Europe if the Press got wind of it! And they must do--if you report officially, and it comes to the ears of His Excellency the Minister. The latter hates the Princess, because she accidentally snubbed the Countess Cioni at the ball at the Palazzo Ginori last week."
"That is no affair of mine. Women's jealousies do not concern me in the least. I am charged with the safety of the State against foreign espionage."
"Well--in this case you've discovered the truth accidentally," responded the diplomat, "and having done so, if you respect your Sovereign and his family, you will say nothing. Further, we may, if we remain silent, be able to obtain more information from Her Highness as to the ident.i.ty of the person into whose hands the plans fell."
"She abstracted them, without a doubt, for she had this duplicate key of the safe," the old man declared.
"You will say nothing, I command you."
"You! How can you impose silence upon me, pray?" he demanded fiercely.
"You are a foreigner, and you are holding a State secret."
"I shall hold it at present for safe keeping."
"Then I shall go straight to the King and lay the whole matter before him."
"You threatened to do a similar action before," said the other very quietly. "I repeat my warning--that silence is best."
"Then I tell you frankly that I refuse to heed your warning. It is my duty to my Sovereign to tell him the truth."
"Very well--go to him and tell him--at your own peril."
"Peril!" he echoed. "What peril?"
"The peril at which I have already hinted, Signor Ghelardi," he answered in a low, hard voice. "Do you wish me to be more explicit? Well--there is in a village called Wroxham, in Norfolk, a mystery--the murder of a man named Arthur Benyon, a British naval officer--which has never yet been cleared up. One man can clear it up--an eyewitness who is, fortunately, still alive and who knows you. And if it is cleared up, then you, Luigi Ghelardi--who at the time occupied the office of Chief of the German Secret Service, and was directing the operation of the horde of spies who are still infesting East Anglia, will be confronted with certain very awkward questions."
The old man's face went livid. He started at Waldron's words, and his bony fingers clenched themselves into the palms.
"Shall I say more?" asked the Englishman, after a brief pause, his eyes fixed upon the crafty chief of spies. "Shall I explain how Arthur Benyon, an agent of the British Intelligence Department, was attacked one summer night after sailing on the Norfolk Broads, being shot in cold blood, and his body flung into the river--how the revolver was thrown in after him, and how, half an hour later, a man, dusty and breathless, gained a car that had been waiting for him and drove through the night up to London. And the fugitive was yourself--Luigi Ghelardi!"
He paused.
"And shall I describe the hue and cry raised by the police: how at the inquest a man named James, employed on a wherry, made a queer statement that was not believed, and how you left London next day and returned to Germany? Shall I also describe to you what the eyewitness saw--and--"
"No!" cried the man hoa.r.s.ely. "Enough! enough!"
"Then give me that safe key and remain silent. If not, I shall also do my duty and explain to the King those circ.u.mstances to which I have just referred."
Ghelardi reluctantly drew the key from his pocket, and having handed it to the Englishman, pa.s.sed to the door in silence, staring in horror at the man who had so unexpectedly levelled such a terrible accusation against him.
He knew that Hubert Waldron held all the honours in that game. In his eyes showed a wild, murderous look.
Yes, he would treat the man before him as he had treated the Englishman, Benyon--seal his lips as he had sealed his own--if only he dared!
But Hubert Waldron, his hand upon the hilt of his uniform-sword, only bowed as the other slowly pa.s.sed out. He knew now the reason why those two men, Merlo and Fiola, had been bribed to encompa.s.s his end.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
REVEALS THE BONDAGE.
On his return home Hubert sat at his table, and very carefully broke open the stolen envelope.
To his surprise, he found that it merely contained several pieces of tracing linen upon which were many lines, angles, and numbers, all of which were quite unintelligible.
There were four small sheets, each about twelve inches square and as far as he could make out, they related to certain plans--or else they were plans in themselves. The scale seemed very small; therefore, after a long examination, he came to the conclusion that they must form the key to other plans, and had been reduced purposely, so that they could not be used without considerable preparation.
If they formed a key, this, no doubt, would be done in order that no improper use might be made of them.
The four pieces of tracing linen were practically covered with cabalistic signs and numbers, short lines, long lines, and all sorts of carefully ruled angles at various degrees. Yet there was nothing whatever upon them to show what they were.
There, during the night, beneath his shaded reading-lamp he strove to puzzle out their import.
Upon one he discovered that the various calculations appeared to be heights in metres and centimetres, and certainly in another were measurements concerning reinforced concrete.
Suddenly a startling thought flashed across his mind. The plans of the new fortresses on the Austrian frontier had been stolen, but as far as he could gather no use had been made of them. True, the army of Austria-Hungary had been mobilised and was held in secret, hourly ready for attack. Yet no formal representations had been made from the Vienna Foreign Office to Rome, and all inquiries had failed to establish that the reason of the secret mobilisation was actually due to the alleged act of war on the part of Italy.
Was it possible, therefore, that the plans stolen were worthless and conveyed nothing without that neatly executed key which lay spread on the blotting-pad before him? Would Her Highness, when she met him next day, reveal to him the truth?
For the present he had imposed silence upon his enemy, the crafty old Ghelardi. But how long would that last--how long before Italy, and indeed the whole of Europe, rang with the terrible scandal of a Royal House!
That night he locked away the envelope with its precious contents safely in his steel dispatch-box and still in his clothes, cast himself upon the bed to sleep. But it was already nearly five in the morning, and he failed even to close his eyes.
The discovery of Lola's treachery had utterly bewildered and unnerved him. Surely she could not want money--and the temptation of money alone makes the traitor. He loved her still. Yes, after that first revulsion of feeling at the moment when he had caught her in the very act it had become more than ever impressed upon him that by her sweetness and beauty she held him in her toils--that he loved her with a mad, profound pa.s.sion, a deep and tender love, such as he had never before experienced, not even in the case of that brilliant-eyed Andalusian who had been so near dragging him down to his ruin.
Ay, he loved her, even though the bitter truth how stood revealed in all its naked hideousness. Yet, alas! he could not tell her of his love.
No. He dare not! Between them there existed a wide barrier of birth that was of necessity unsurmountable. She, a princess of the blood-royal, could never be permitted to marry a mere diplomat, any more than she could marry the man to whom she had given her heart, Henri Pujalet.
Thoughts of the latter brought reflections that he was in Rome. That fact was very curious, to say the least.
Had not the Frenchman urged him to keep his presence a secret from Lola?
Why? He had, he said, arranged to meet her.
Feelings of the most intense jealousy and hatred arose within Hubert's heart, for did he not remember that pa.s.sionate love-scene he had witnessed beneath the palms in far-off Wady Haifa.
At nine o'clock the telephone bell rang, and he replied to it.
It was Renata, Lola's maid, who explained that Her Highness would be unable to go out to Frascati, but would call upon him at noon--an appointment which he eagerly confirmed.
Just before eleven Waldron called upon General Cataldi and was shown at once into the Minister's private room.
Without much preliminary he said in Italian:
"I am anxious to know whether another doc.u.ment of very great importance has disappeared from Your Excellency's safe?"
The General looked at him keenly, in wonder at his meaning.
"I confess I scarcely follow you," he replied.
"Well, I have suspicion that, during the reception last night another valuable confidential doc.u.ment was abstracted--an envelope containing several sheets of tracing linen."