CHAPTER XIII
A MOVE BY THE ENEMY
There was a moment's pause, and then in a leisurely fashion Tony knocked the remaining tobacco out of his pipe, and put it away in his pocket.
"How jolly!" he observed. "What have you done with them?"
"I have shown them into the library, Sir Antony."
Tony got up from his chair and pulled down his coat.
"Do I look respectable, Spalding?" he asked. "I shouldn't like to receive such distinguished visitors with any suggestion of slovenliness."
Spalding inspected him carefully, and then stepping forward removed a small piece of white thread from the knee of his trousers.
"There is nothing the matter now, Sir Antony," he replied.
Tony walked leisurely up the steps into the house, and crossing the morning-room and the hall, opened the door of the library.
Da Freitas and the Count, both irreproachably dressed in frock coats, were standing on the hearth-rug.
"Hulloa, Marquis!" observed Tony. "This is awfully nice of you to come and look me up. A sort of burying of the pugilistic hatchet, eh?"
With an affable bow the Marquis accepted his proffered hand.
"It is my hope that we shall always be good friends," he replied in that smooth purring voice of his. Then indicating his companion, he added: "May I have the honour of presenting you to the Count de Sé?"
Tony shook hands in turn with the Count, who in contrast with the urbane Da Freitas appeared nervous and ill at ease.
"How do you do?" said Tony. "I suppose it's my imagination, but d'you know I can't help feeling I have seen you before somewhere."
For a moment the Count seemed at a loss how to reply, and before he could recover himself the Marquis da Freitas had taken up the gauntlet.
"You are right, Sir Antony. You made the Count's acquaintance in Richmond Park the day before yesterday. It is that meeting to a certain extent which is responsible for our visit."
With an air of pleased remembrance, Tony turned back to Isabel's guardian.
"Why, of course," he exclaimed. "How stupid of me! I say, I hope you didn't hurt yourself when you fell off the car?"
The Count drew himself up. "It is through a miracle that I was not killed," he replied with some stiffness.
Tony nodded sympathetically. "I know," he said. "That's the danger of a clay soil. It gets so hard in hot weather."
A sudden tinge of colour appeared in the Count's parchment-like face, and once again the soothing tones of Da Freitas broke in upon the conversation.
"I expect," he said suavely, "that we have all been more or less under a misunderstanding. I am quite sure that when matters are explained this little Comedy of Errors will settle itself."
"I shouldn't wonder," said Tony. "But won't you both sit down and have a cigar? There's no reason we shouldn't be comfortable while we are talking."
He took a box off the mantelpiece and held it out in turn to his two guests. Da Freitas helped himself, and after a second's hesitation the Count followed suit, as though the tempting appearance of the cabanas that it contained had proved too strong for his contemplated refusal.
It was Da Freitas who reopened the conversation. Having seated himself on the broad leather-covered couch against the wall, he took an appreciative pull at his cigar, and then removed it carefully from between his thick lips.
"I suppose," he said, "that you are aware who the young lady is that you have apparently been good-natured enough to assist?"
It was the identical question that Congosta had opened with, and Tony answered it in much the same fashion.
"Why, of course," he said. "When I make new friends I am always most careful about their antecedents."
The Marquis looked up at him sharply, but Tony's face remained absolutely expressionless.
"As you may imagine," continued the former, "it was a cause of infinite relief to the Count and myself to learn that her foolish escapade had had no more serious consequences." He paused. "We should be interested to learn how and under what circumstances you became acquainted."
"We were introduced by a mutual acquaintance in Long Acre," said Tony.
The Marquis raised his eyebrows. "Ah, indeed!" he replied courteously. "I had no idea that Isabella had any acquaintances in London. That was one thing that made us so extremely anxious about her."
He paused again as though giving Tony an opportunity to be a little more communicative—a thoughtful attention which the latter appeared to overlook.
"I suppose," he continued with a good-natured laugh, "that the dear foolish child has been telling you of the terrible tragedies of a high destiny. She is incredibly romantic as you have doubtless seen. It's a charming weakness in a young girl, but"—he shrugged his shoulders—"well, sometimes we poor elders are forced to appear unsympathetic in order to be kind."
"Yes," said Tony, "so I gather."
Again the Marquis glanced at him quickly, and then as if partly reassured by the perfect tranquillity of his countenance, proceeded in the same strain of benevolent urbanity.
"To youth the claims of duty must always seem hard and unreasonable. One would not wish it otherwise. If we were not a little unwise and impatient in the spring-time of life, what interest would be left to us for the autumn and the winter?" He took another pull at his cigar, and blew out a philosophic cloud of smoke. "I presume," he added smilingly, "that you are fully acquainted with the main cause of our little runaway's desperate decision?"
"I understand," said Tony, "that she was unable to appreciate the more subtle points of her selected husband?"
Da Freitas waved his hand indulgently. "Ah, well, my dear Sir Antony, between ourselves I do not mind admitting that His Majesty is not perhaps the figure of Romance that a young girl pictures in her dreams. But what would you? He loves her devotedly, and he will make her a good—an excellent husband. It will be an ideal marriage in every way."
"You really think so?" said Tony artlessly.
"I am sure of it. Why should I have encouraged it otherwise? We have nothing to gain politically by such a match. His Majesty might have made an alliance with one of the most powerful reigning houses in Europe, but he loves his cousin, and I am old-fashioned enough to believe that when there is no great objection it is best to follow the counsels of the heart."
"But there is a grave objection," said Tony, "—on the lady's part.”
Again Da Freitas shrugged his shoulders. "My dear Sir Antony—a young girl's whims and fancies! What are they anyway? Three parts shyness and modesty. Within a week of her marriage she will be perfectly happy and contented."
Tony leaned back and crossed his legs. "Well, I'll tell her what you say," he observed, "but I am afraid I can't hold out much hope."
There was a short and rather pregnant silence.
"The position does not appear to be quite clear to you, Sir Antony," remarked Da Freitas with a somewhat excessive politeness. "While we appreciate your friendly offer of assistance, there can be no question of our sending messages through any third party. The Count de Sé is Her Highness's legal guardian, and the sooner she is returned to his care and protection, the better it will be for everybody concerned."
"I daresay," replied Tony lazily; "but you see there's a difficulty in the way. She dislikes him even more than she does you and Pedro."
Da Freitas controlled himself admirably.
"It is scarcely a question of Her Highness's personal feelings," he observed. "I fancy that we are the best judges of her future welfare, and in any case the present state of affairs cannot possibly be allowed to continue."
"I don't see why," persisted Tony cheerfully. "I have adopted Isabel as a cousin, and the arrangement suits us both excellently. Of course I am sorry in a way that Pedro should be disappointed, but after all it only serves him right. I don't approve of a young man marrying a nice girl, unless he has led a healthy and reputable life."
This was too much for the Count de Sé, who started up in his chair with an indignant gasp.
"Sir!" he exclaimed. "You are insolent."
Tony looked across at him with perfect good temper.
"We are all insolent in England," he said. "It's the result of there being no duelling."
"Sir Antony is indulging his sense of humour," broke in Da Freitas with a dangerous suavity. "We can hardly insult his intelligence by suggesting that he is taking up this position seriously. Otherwise it might be necessary to remind him that in this great and admirable country of his there is such a thing as the Law."
"I have been told," said Tony, "that it is our supreme national achievement."
"It is at least effective," replied Da Freitas with some significance. "I understand that it takes a very definite view as to the detention of a minor from her legal guardian."
"There is only one trouble about the law in England," said Tony. "It's inclined to be slow in its operation."
Da Freitas' white teeth exhibited themselves in a smile.
"That," he observed, "is a universal weakness in legal systems, but fortunately there are ways and methods of overcoming it. In the present case, for instance, I fancy that a few words from me to your extremely courteous and obliging Foreign Office might have a very far-reaching effect."
"I am sure they would," said Tony cordially. "In fact I shouldn't be the least surprised if they reached as far as Livadia. It's extraordinary how news travels—especially interesting and romantic news of this sort."
Once again there was a pause in the conversation. Then Da Freitas laughed—easily and pleasantly.
"If that remark is intended for a threat, I am afraid that your information is a little out of date. His Majesty's intentions are already known to the government at Portriga."
Tony shook his head. "I wasn't thinking so much about the government," he said. "It was the friends and supporters of the late Don Francisco that I had in my mind. I've got an idea that some of them might like to come over to Richmond and congratulate the Count on having arranged such a satisfactory marriage."
The effect that this innocent remark produced upon Isabel's uncle was prompt and remarkable. His naturally unpleasant complexion went a sort of dirty green, and flinging his half-smoked cigar on the carpet he rose unsteadily to his feet.
"Are we to sit here and be threatened and insulted any longer?" he demanded.
"Apparently not," said Tony, "but all the same there's no need to burn a hole in my nice carpet."
With a masterful gesture Da Freitas checked his companion's outburst. Then he too rose from the sofa, and stood facing Tony with the same easy and smiling urbanity that he had displayed all through the interview.
"We are flattered at your interest in the affairs of our afflicted country, Sir Antony; but if you will forgive my offering you a little advice, it is a dangerous habit to make a plaything out of what other people take seriously."
Tony stepped to the fireplace and pressed the electric bell.
"All real pleasure seems to have a certain amount of risk about it," he admitted sadly. "The only thing to do is to hope for the best and take every proper precaution."
The Marquis picked up his hat from the table on which he had placed it.
"I have heard more foolish remarks," he observed, "from considerably wiser people."
There was a sound outside, and then the door opened and Spalding appeared on the threshold.
Tony turned to his guests. "Have you got a car?" he inquired, "or can my man drive you anywhere?"
Da Freitas bowed. "You are very kind," he said, "but there is no need to trouble you. We are in the fortunate position of being able to look after ourselves—in every way."
He walked to the door, followed by the Count de Sé, who haughtily ignored Tony's polite farewell. Leaning against the mantelpiece the latter waited placidly until he heard the grind and scrunch of the departing car, and then strolling out into the hall discovered Spalding in the act of closing the front door.
"Have Miss Francis and Mr. Guy come back yet?" he inquired.
"Yes, Sir Antony," replied Spalding. "They returned a few minutes ago and are waiting in the garden. I took the liberty of informing them who your visitors were. You had given no instructions, but I thought you might wish them to know."
"It's a waste of time giving you instructions, Spalding," said Tony. "Your instincts are so invariably accurate."
Spalding, as usual, acknowledged the compliment with a slight bow.
"Would you wish lunch to be served, sir?" he inquired. "Or shall I put it off for a quarter of an hour?"
"Oh, no, you can bring it up," said Tony. "I want support. There is something very exhausting about the foreign aristocracy."
He strolled out into the garden, where Isabel and Guy, who were back in their old seats, jumped up eagerly to meet him.
"Well?" they inquired simultaneously.
"Fairly so," said Tony, "considering what I have been through. I had no idea that this conspiracy business was such an intellectual strain."
"Oh, what did Da Freitas say?" asked Isabel clasping her hands. "I could almost see him standing there smiling and threatening you in that horrible smooth way of his."
"He was in quite good form," said Tony cheerfully, "and so was Uncle Phil." He put his arm through hers. "But come along in and I'll tell you all about it while we are having some food. We mustn't allow our pleasures to interfere with the more serious duties of life."
They made their way to the dining-room, where Spalding was just bringing in lunch, and over an excellent saddle of mutton Tony gave them a leisurely but animated description of his recent interview.
"I don't know what you think," he finished, "but my own idea is that Da Freitas was skidding a little from the truth when he said that the Republican government knew all about Peter's matrimonial plans. I don't see how they can, unless Congosta's people have told them, and that isn't likely."
"They may have spies of their own," suggested Guy. "They must know that the King is plotting to come back, and you can be pretty sure that they are keeping an eye on him some way or other." He paused. "I wonder what Da Freitas will do next!" he added.
"We needn't worry ourselves," said Tony. "We shall find out before very long. I never saw a middle-aged nobleman more obviously bent upon immediate mischief."
Isabel nodded her agreement. "He always has some plan ready if another one fails. In Livadia when he was Prime Minister they used to call him the Black Spider."
"Do you think he knows where Isabel is?" asked Guy.
"I shouldn't wonder," said Tony placidly. "He gave me the impression of having several aces up his sleeve."
Guy frowned thoughtfully. "I don't think it's very safe leaving her at Spalding's with only Bugg to look after her. These people have big interests at stake and they won't mind what methods they employ."
"No," said Tony, "to do Da Freitas justice I shouldn't think there was any maudlin fastidiousness about him." He paused to mix himself a whisky and soda. "I am inclined to think you're right, Guy. The best thing with these strong, unscrupulous men is to put temptation out of their reach."
"How do you propose to do it?" asked Guy.
"I shall go along this afternoon to Aunt Fanny and see if I can't persuade her to ask Isabel to come and stay. She ought to be quite safe there. No one would ever think of looking for a Queen in Chester Square. It's so respectable."
"I seem to be getting more of a bother than ever," observed Isabel in rather a distressed voice.
"Not at all," said Guy firmly. "Every right-minded person finds it a pleasure and a privilege to prevent injustice being done."
"Especially to any one beautiful," added Tony. "It's wonderful how beauty quickens one's ethical sense." He turned to Isabel. "How would you like to go to a music hall to-night?" he asked.
"Very much," said Isabel promptly.
A faint cloud of disapproval showed itself on Guy's forehead.
"Don't you think a theatre would be more—more appropriate?" he asked.
"No," said Tony, "I don't. Isabel knows nothing of the deeper and better side of our English national life, and it's quite time she learned. I shall take her to the Empire." He paused. "I don't like leaving her alone all this afternoon though," he added thoughtfully. "I suppose you couldn't possibly snatch an hour or two, Guy——?"
"Oh, I shall be all right," interrupted Isabel hastily. "You mustn't think of putting yourself out for me, Cousin Guy."
Guy laid down his knife and fork. "My dear Isabel," he said in that precise and dignified manner of his; "when you know Tony as well as I do, you won't pay the faintest attention to his remarks. I am not the least busy this afternoon and I shall be only too pleased if you will accept my company."
"I shall be delighted," said Isabel, "but I am not really frightened of Da Freitas now. Look what I got yesterday."
She slipped her hand into an inside pocket of the tailormade coat that she was wearing, and pulled out a tiny little ivory-handled pistol, which she held out for Tony's inspection.
"It's one of Harrod's," she added, "I saw it in his list. Isn't it nice?"
"Charming," said Tony. "I had no idea that Harrod was so blood-thirsty."
"Is it loaded?" inquired Guy with a faint trace of anxiety.
"Oh, yes," said Isabel promptly. "Harrod says it will kill a man at ten yards."
"You ought to hit Da Freitas all right at ten yards," observed Tony critically. "He's very podgy."
"You mustn't encourage her in such ideas," broke in Guy. "We are not in Livadia or South America." He turned to Isabel. "People don't shoot at each other in England," he explained. "It's against the law and they would be very severely punished. You had better give me that to look after for you."
Isabel shook her head. "I shall shoot at him if he tries to take me back," she said with determination. "I would rather go to prison than marry Pedro."
"A very healthy and reasonable sentiment," remarked Tony. "Guy has the most morbid ideas about the sanctity of human life. He ought to belong to the National Liberal Club."
Isabel put back the pistol into her pocket, and after one more unavailing effort Guy abandoned his protest as useless.
"I suppose it's on a par with the rest of the situation," he observed gloomily. "We shall probably all end in prison or something worse before we've finished."
Tony laughed and pushed across the whisky.
"Never mind, Guy," he replied in an encouraging voice. "We shall be able to look back on beautiful and well-spent lives, and that's the only thing that really matters."
It was close on four o'clock when Tony arrived at Chester Square, and was shown up to the drawing-room by Lady Jocelyn's trim and efficient-looking parlour-maid. Lady Jocelyn herself was sitting on the sofa reading one of Anatole France's earlier novels, and she shut the book up with a pleased smile as her visitor appeared on the threshold.
"Dear Tony," she said. "How nice of you to come so soon. I have been positively ill with curiosity. It's the only disease I can't bear with dignity."
Tony kissed her affectionately and sat down on the sofa beside her.
"I have brought you the cure, Aunt Fanny," he replied, "but I'm afraid it's rather an exhausting one. Do you feel strong enough to listen to a long and distressing story, involving some of the noblest names in Europe?"
"The longer and distressinger it is," said Lady Jocelyn, "the more I shall enjoy it." She stretched out her hand to a small table beside her, and pressed an electric bell. "But perhaps we had better have tea up first," she added. "A cup of tea improves the best scandal in the world. It makes it seem more abandoned."
"I suppose that accounts for the great wealth of Lipton and Lyons," said Tony. "I had always put it down to their Scottish blood."
The neat parlour-maid returned, and having been requested to bring tea, duly performed that operation with the deftness and celerity that characterized all Lady Jocelyn's servants. Then, having received instructions that no other visitors were to be admitted, she retired gracefully from the scene, closing the door behind her.
"Now you can begin, Tony," said Lady Jocelyn, handing him one of her fragile Sèvres cups. "Speak slowly and don't omit any of the more painful details. I can bear anything provided it's sufficiently scandalous."
Thus encouraged Tony entered upon his task, and in practically the same words as he had already told it to Molly he repeated the moving story of his discovery of Isabel, and the bracing results which had sprung from their acquaintance. Lady Jocelyn listened to him with a silent but deep enjoyment which showed itself plainly in her twinkling black eyes. Like Molly she made no interruptions until he had finished, contenting herself with an occasional nod or an appreciative smile as the more interesting developments gradually unrolled themselves. When the whole story was finally concluded, she lay back against the cushions and surveyed him with a sort of affectionate approval.
"My dear Tony," she said. "I have done you a great injustice. Ever since you were a small boy, I have admired your efforts at brightening the family life, but I never suspected you were capable of anything like this."
"I think I have always been a little misunderstood," answered Tony modestly. "Some people develop late, you know."
Lady Jocelyn laughed softly. "I can now depart in peace," she said. "If any one had told me that I should live to see Laura and Henry mixed up even remotely in a bloodthirsty European scandal—" She broke off, as if mere words were inadequate to express the depth of her emotions.
"It is rather joyous, isn't it?" said Tony. "Still it's their own fault, you know. They have been worrying me to take up some serious profession ever since the war."
"Well, they can't complain then," agreed Lady Jocelyn. "Kidnapping Queens is one of the most serious professions that any young man could possibly adopt." She arranged herself a little more comfortably on the sofa, and looked across at Tony with a smile. "And what about my part in the play?" she asked. "Am I to be the Fairy Godmother?"
For a moment Tony paused. "I don't know," he said. "Upon my soul I don't like to drag you into it, Aunt Fanny."
"Nonsense," retorted Lady Jocelyn briskly. "People of my age require a little mental stimulant to keep their interest in life alive." She paused. "Besides, you must think of the girl. Even a Princess's reputation has to be considered."
Tony nodded. "That's our weak point," he observed. "We've got a good hand, but we're a bit thin on chaperons."
"It's quite simple," said Lady Jocelyn. "You must bring her to stay with me. I am sure we should get along together excellently. I like girls with red hair."
"I did think of it," admitted Tony; "but you know, Aunt Fanny, it's really rather risky. Those sleek purring people like Da Freitas are dangerous beggars when they mean mischief."
"I am not frightened," answered Lady Jocelyn calmly. "There is a very reliable policeman at the corner, and the house is heavily insured." She laid down the piece of silk knitting which she had picked up after tea. "Tony," she said suddenly, "I have got an idea. If you are really determined to play the knight errant for this young woman, why don't you put that very comfortable steam yacht of yours into commission and take her away out of danger? If you will go to some nice place I don't mind coming with you and looking after the proprieties. I am very fond of a sea voyage even now."
Tony sat up and gazed at her with admiration.
"My dear Aunt Fanny!" he exclaimed. "That's not an idea. That's a stroke of pure genius." He paused as if to allow the full brilliance of the suggestion to sink into him. "I could bring Guy too," he added, "and then we should have a four for bridge."
"If Guy would come," said Lady Jocelyn. "He probably considers the ocean not quite respectable."
"Oh, he'd come all right," said Tony. "He's getting much broader-minded, especially where Isabel's concerned." He got up from the sofa. "I will send a wire to Simmons on my way back. The Betty is in Southampton and it won't take more than a day or two to get her ready."
"You are going to bring Isabel to stay with me just the same, I suppose?" asked Lady Jocelyn. "Apart altogether from Mrs. Grundy, I should think it would be much safer for her to leave Hampstead. I expect Da Freitas knows where she is, and in that case she must be in a certain amount of danger."
Tony nodded. "I will bring her along myself to-morrow morning," he said. "The house is probably watched, but I shall take her a nice little run in the Peugot first. I don't think any one will find out where we finish up." He paused. "You really are a darling, Aunt Fanny," he added. "I have no idea how to thank you."
Lady Jocelyn smiled at him placidly. "I will tell you, Tony," she said, "after I have seen Isabel."
There is a small confectioner's shop, not a hundred yards from Victoria Station, which for some dark purpose of his own the Post Master General has enriched with a Telegraph Office. Here Tony halted the car on his return journey, and sauntering up to the desk inside, selected a form, which after some consideration he filled up with the following message:——
To CAPTAIN SIMMONS,
Steam yacht Betty,
Southampton.
Please make all preparations immediate sailing. Party of six or seven including servants. Duration of voyage uncertain. Wire earliest date likely to be ready. Hope you're well.
CONWAY.
He handed it to the girl behind the counter, an anæmic young lady of about seventeen, who having read it carefully with the aid of a pencil, looked up at him with a rather wistful envy.
"One shilling and eightpence," she observed. Then in a low voice she added: "Wish I was comin' too. Some people have all the luck."
Tony put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a five-pound note. He glanced round, and seeing that no one was observing them, pushed it across the counter.
"Never mind, Gwendoline," he said encouragingly. "Pay for the telegram out of that, and try to keep the other nine commandments."
Then, before the astounded young lady had recovered her power of speech, he lifted his hat, and strolled off out of the shop in the same leisurely fashion as he had entered it.