34 chapters
13 hour read
Selected Chapters
34 chapters
Chapter One.
Chapter One.
The mystic hour of the desert afterglow. A large, square wooden veranda covered by a red and white awning, above a wide silent sweep of flowing river, whose huge rocks, worn smooth through a thousand ages, raised their backs about the stream, a glimpse of green feathery palms and flaming scarlet poinsettias on the island opposite, and beyond the great drab desert, the illimitable waste of stony, undulating sands stretching away to the infinite, and bathed in the blood-red light of the dying day.
30 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Two.
Chapter Two.
Waldron told the man where they wished to go. “Ver gud, gen’leman,” the big, brown-faced giant replied, salaaming, and soon they were speeding across the face of the wonderful river into which the moon and the lights of the town were reflected as in a mirror, while the only sound was the faint ripple of the water at the bows. “How delightfully refreshing after the heat,” Lola exclaimed, pulling her wrap about her and breathing in the welcome air to the full. “Yes,” replied her companion, lolling
26 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Three.
Chapter Three.
“At noon to-morrow—if Allah willeth it,” replied the old man. “To-night the crew will give a fantasia. Will you tell the passengers.” “If it be thy will,” responded Boulos, drawing at his excellent cigarette. “How farest thou this journey?” “Very well. The Prophet hath given me grace to sell several statuettes and scarabs. The little American hath bought my bronze of Isis.” “I congratulate thee, O wise one among the infidels,” laughed the old man, raising his left hand to alter the course of the
23 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Four.
Chapter Four.
“Oh, yes. I escorted both her and Miss Lambert,” was the diplomat’s reply. “But look here, M’sieur Gigleux,” he went on, “you seem to have a distinct antipathy towards me. You seem to be averse to any courtesy I show towards your niece. Why is this? Tell me.” The old man’s eyes opened widely, and he struck an attitude. “ Mais non, m’sieur !” he declared quickly. “You quite misunderstand me. I am old—and perhaps I may be a little eccentric. Lola says that I am.” “But is that any reason why I shou
21 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Five.
Chapter Five.
“Monuments teeckets very much wanted; gallopin’ don-kees not al-lowed,” is the parrot-like phrase with which each dragoman concludes his daily address to his charges before setting out upon an excursion. Dinner over, many of the travellers landed to stroll through the small town, half native, half European, which has lately sprung up at the head of the Sudan railway. As usual, Chester Dawson escorted Edna and went ashore laughing merrily. Time was, and not so very long ago, when Wady Haifa was a
20 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Six.
Chapter Six.
“It cannot be known,” was his confident reply. “We can both keep the truth from others. Trust me.” “And when we return to Europe. What then?” she asked in a low, changed tone. “Then we shall see. Why try and look into the future? It is useless to anticipate difficulties which may not, after all, exist,” he said cheerfully, again stroking her hair with tenderness. He spoke in French in a soft, refined voice, and was evidently a gentleman, though he still stood in the shadow and was therefore undi
19 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Seven.
Chapter Seven.
Hubert Waldron watched them, then sighed and turned away. He had not gone far up the long salon before he was accosted by a rather thick-set, clean-shaven Englishman of about thirty-five, with blue eyes, rather fair hair, and whose clothes fitted perfectly. “Hulloa, Waldron! By Jove! Who’d have dreamt of meeting you here! Why, I thought you were still in Madrid!” “Jerningham!” gasped the diplomat. “My dear old Jack, how are you?” he cried, grasping his hand warmly. “Oh, so-so,” replied the other
16 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Eight.
Chapter Eight.
“Of course you know quite well. Why ask me to repeat it, old chap?” “But I don’t,” was the other’s reply. “Well,” exclaimed Jerningham after a pause, “perhaps you are, after all, like most men—you close your ears to the truth because you love her.” “Yes, Jack, I admit it. I do love her.” “Then the sooner you realise the actual truth, the better,” declared the other with almost brutal abruptness. “What truth?” “My dear fellow, I know—nay, everybody knows—your foolish, quixotic friendship with the
21 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Nine.
Chapter Nine.
“A gay season there, I hear—eh?” “Quite. But I’ve been on leave in Upper Egypt.” “And a most excellent spot during this horrible weather we’re having in London. Wish I were there now.” And the Earl, a rather spare, refined man whose clean-shaven features were strongly marked, and who wore the regulation morning coat and grey striped trousers, crossed to the big fireplace and flung into it a shovelful of coals. That room in which Hubert had only been once before he well-remembered. Its sombre wal
22 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Ten.
Chapter Ten.
Waldron, who had taken in the Contessa Stella and sat at her side, was listening to her gossip about the Court, of the doings of the Queen, and of their recent stay at Racconigi. Though most of the conversation at table was in French they spoke in Italian, Hubert speaking that language with scarce a trace of foreign accent. “Curiously enough, Signor Waldron, I first knew of you by hearing His Majesty speak of you,” remarked the pretty young woman. “I heard him telling General Olivieri, the first
19 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Eleven.
Chapter Eleven.
“Yes. I heard that you had been transferred here from Madrid,” she laughed, speaking in English. “But oh! I’ve got lots to explain. I want to see you, Mr Waldron—to see you very particularly. I came here this afternoon to find out if you were here. May I call on you this evening? I know where you live, in the Via Nazionale. When will you be at home?” He was rather taken aback. Ever since his discovery of her portrait in the Embassy a couple of hours ago he had been plunged in thought, for did he
20 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Twelve.
Chapter Twelve.
“Lady visitor! What do you mean?” he asked, for Count Guicciolo was an old friend of many years. “Well, your man told me that you could not be disturbed, so I naturally formed my own conclusions,” replied the aide-de-camp airily, pointing to the muff. “But I apologise. Here is a message for you from His Majesty. I was to deliver it into your hands,” and from beneath his cloak he produced a letter which upon the flap bore the neat royal cipher of the House of Savoy. In surprise the diplomat broke
21 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Thirteen.
Chapter Thirteen.
“Certainly, every fact within my knowledge is entirely at your disposal, for I am seeking your assistance, I have heard of your successes as a keen investigator of diplomatic secrets, and I appeal to you, Waldron, to assist me in what is a very serious difficulty and a distinct peril to my nation.” “I am Your Majesty’s obedient servant to command,” was the other’s prompt reply. “Yes, yes, I greatly appreciate your words,” the monarch said. “Now let me proceed further. The plans were produced at
21 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Fourteen.
Chapter Fourteen.
“Yes, Excellency,” replied the man, who saluted and retired. “This affair, Signor Waldron, is a most serious one for us,” he said a few moments later. “You see yonder. There is the safe in which the plans were—” At that moment he was interrupted by the entrance of a burly major of artillery in dark blue uniform with the broad yellow stripe down his blue-grey trousers. “Brusati, I want Corporal Tonini, Number 34876 19th Regiment of Bersiglieri to be called here at once. This gentleman, Signor Wal
19 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Fifteen.
Chapter Fifteen.
Waldron uttered no word. He watched the General’s face keenly and kept his own counsel. “The affair is a complete mystery,” remarked Lambarini, who had spoken but little. “I, too, incline towards the opinion that the man, Tonini, knows the identity of the thief, but will not speak.” “If I have him arrested then we might get him to open his lips,” His Excellency exclaimed. Waldron at once said: “No. His arrest would betray the secret of Your Excellency’s loss. Besides, such an injudicious action
23 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Sixteen.
Chapter Sixteen.
“Please yourself. Something which is a speciality of the house. What is it?” “Well, signore, our zuppa alla Marinara is supposed to be the best in Rome,” he replied. “And of fish, we have red mullet cooked in the Livornese fashion—and carciofi alla guidea .” “Good,” the visitor answered, for Hubert knew Italian cooking and knew what to order. “A dozen tartufi della mare , the ztàppa, triglie and a risotto with fegatini of chicken.” Egisto bowed. From that moment he held the stranger, though a fo
25 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Seventeen.
Chapter Seventeen.
The detective showed greatest curiosity regarding the reason of such inquiries regarding public officials, but the Englishman told him nothing. “Just make your inquiries, Signor Pucci,” he said, “this is all I require of you at present. I may be absent from Rome for a week, so while I am away please continue to work. As you know, the Questore has placed your services entirely at His Majesty’s disposal.” “I appreciate the honour which has been done me,” was the astute officer’s reply, for he was
22 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Eighteen.
Chapter Eighteen.
He rose and smiled as Waldron entered, and the latter instantly recognised him as the secret lover—the man who had travelled with them down the Nile, and whose attitude towards Lola had so completely disarmed all suspicion. The two men lifted hats to each other in the foreign manner, and then Hubert exclaimed with a pleasant smile: “This is a strange renewal of our acquaintance, M’sieur Pujalet, is it not?” “Hush?” exclaimed the other warningly. “Not Pujalet here—Petrovitch, if you please!” and
20 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Nineteen.
Chapter Nineteen.
In white, with her hair beautifully dressed, she presented a sweet, charming picture of youthful patrician beauty, of exquisite refinement. From where he stood he could see the black watered ribbon of one of the Imperial German Orders peeping over the edge of her low-cut corsage, and from it was suspended the cross of the Order in brilliants. She was looking unusually pale and worn. Her eyes seemed to have black rings around them which told of anxiety, perhaps of sleepless nights—different, inde
21 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Twenty.
Chapter Twenty.
Was it possible, he wondered, that Henri Pujalet had written abandoning her? That was the impression which forced itself upon him. The Frenchman certainly could not know her real title and position. Pujalet no doubt believed, as he himself had believed, that Lola was a poor dependent. Hence it was quite probable that he had met some other woman and in favour of her had abandoned Lola. Yet, as he stood there wondering he recollected the love-scene that hot stifling night beneath the palms in the
22 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Twenty One.
Chapter Twenty One.
“Very well,” replied the diplomat, turning and walking up the corridor back to the ballroom. Half an hour later he met His Majesty face to face. “Ah, Signor Waldron, you are back again in Rome—eh?” the King exclaimed anxiously. “Well—anything to tell me?” he asked, dropping his voice. His Majesty was passing through the Sala Regia alone, and there was nobody in the vicinity to overhear. “Nothing, sir—only—” “Only what? Quick,” he said impatiently. “It is rumoured in Brussels that Austria is mobi
22 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Twenty Two.
Chapter Twenty Two.
She had been wondering ever since she had regained consciousness on the previous night what had really occurred in the room of the Minister of the Royal Household—whether the British diplomat, her friend, had also been discovered there in her company. She had questioned the maids, but they had been instructed by Ghelardi and refused to satisfy her curiosity. Therefore she was in ignorance of what had happened after the receipt of that fatal message from Brussels. How she had passed that day of f
23 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Twenty Three.
Chapter Twenty Three.
Hubert Waldron thought he had never seen her looking so charming, yet he wondered why she had made that appointment so far away from Rome. He was still wondering, too, why that letter of Henry Pujalet’s should have had such an effect upon her. With her last strenuous effort, however, she had destroyed it. Why? “Your man seemed awfully dense this morning,” the Princess laughed. “When I telephoned he thought it was the manageress of your fishmonger, and told me that you required nothing to-day! Yo
21 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Twenty Four.
Chapter Twenty Four.
“Why do you not take my advice and leave Rome?” she asked one night when she was dancing with him at a great ball at the Rospigliosi Palace. “You are in constant peril.” “I have my duties here,” was his answer. “I cannot leave.” She sighed, and as he held her in his arms he felt that she was trembling. “Why won’t you heed me?” she implored, looking up at him with those wonderful eyes of hers. “Do.” “Because I am not my own master,” was his reply. “Because I cannot.” General Cataldi was there, in
22 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Twenty Five.
Chapter Twenty Five.
“Ah! Excellency, things are cut so terribly fine. You do not know. In order to compete with those Northampton and Leicester firms we have to be content with the very slightest margin of profit, and after our secret commission to you there is really nothing left. We have to live and pay our people. Besides you tie us down so rigidly to dates of delivery.” “Unfortunately I am compelled. I cannot show any favour to you, or our association would at once be detected.” And so, for half an hour, the tw
25 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Twenty Six.
Chapter Twenty Six.
All tended to a secret attack—to war—a war in Europe with dreadnoughts, high explosives, aeroplanes, seaplanes, submarines, and wireless conditions never before imagined either in the wildest dreams of novelists or the ever-active brains of place-seeking party politicians. Preparations were slowly but surely being made in Vienna, and the blow would surely soon be struck. For an hour Waldron remained in consultation with his Chief. Then, regardless of Downing Street regulations, and only hoping t
24 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Twenty Seven.
Chapter Twenty Seven.
In this connection he had often been imposed upon. He knew it, but always declared that, after all, he might have done one really charitable action, though others who had told their stories were impostors. Like most men possessed of keen wits, he had been very badly imposed upon at times. Yet often and often, by his sympathetic feelings, he had spent the greater part of his pay in the relief of real cases of distress. The Waldrons had ever been charitable, for they were always English gentlemen
21 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Twenty Eight.
Chapter Twenty Eight.
“Hallo!” he exclaimed, “what does this mean, Your Highness? A safe key!” The unhappy girl, white as death, nodded in the affirmative. The white-haired official stepped across, drew the brass cover aside from the keyhole, and tried the key. It yielded. “And may I ask Your Royal Highness why I find you here, in His Excellency’s room, with a key to his private safe wherein, I believe, many secrets of our defences are kept?” he asked of her. “I refuse to answer you, Signor Commendatore,” was her bol
21 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Twenty Nine.
Chapter Twenty Nine.
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
20 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Thirty.
Chapter Thirty.
“You have forgotten your Spanish dancer—eh?” she asked in a strange tone of reproach. “I took your advice,” was his simple reply; “and in doing so I gradually grew to love you, Princess, yet knowing that my affection could only bring me, a lonely man, grief, pain and despair.” She was silent. Her little, white-gloved hand was again in his, and he had raised it reverently to his lips. Ah! that was to him a moment of extreme ecstasy, for her hand lay inert and he saw that though her head was turne
19 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Thirty One.
Chapter Thirty One.
But the man merely laughed as he replied: “Have I not told you, my dear Lola, it is with me purely a matter of finance, not of sentiment.” They were together in a small, plainly furnished sitting-room on the first floor of the mediaeval Palazzo Bisenzi, now occupied by the Hôtel Belle Arti, in ignorance that every word spoken could be overheard by the Englishman and his companion. The two latter were listening intently at the door of an adjoining room—for in Italian hotels the communicating door
22 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Thirty Two.
Chapter Thirty Two.
Ten minutes later the brigadier re-entered and said excitedly: “He’s gone! He had a motor-car awaiting him round in the Via del Duomo. It was a strange car, a long, grey, open one, they say. It had been waiting an hour. The chauffeur was a Frenchman. They left by the Porta Maggiore, and have evidently taken the direction of Bolsena. He took his hand-bag with him, and left a fifty-lire note for his hotel bill.” “Then he must have overheard me!” gasped Waldron dismayed. “By Jove! he’s got away, an
28 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Thirty Three.
Chapter Thirty Three.
Hubert telegraphed to Lola, giving her brief word of what he had done, and signing himself “Your Friend.” He feared lest somebody might open the dispatch, because for aught he knew she might have left Rome to attend the Queen upon some public function or other, as she was so often forced to do. She scarcely knew from one day to another where she might be, for King Umberto’s Queen was a capricious lady, and somewhat erratic in attending the public ceremonies which were so frequent, and entailed s
26 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
Chapter Thirty Four.
Chapter Thirty Four.
“I begged of you to leave all to me—that I would settle the account with him. I have brought you back your letters,” he said, very gravely. “You need have no further fear, because the scoundrel who made such dastardly pretence of loving you, Lola, is dead!” “Dead!” she gasped with startled, wide-open eyes. “Yes; shot dead by the Paris police who had wanted him for espionage. He fired at them, and they retaliated in self-defence.” “Then my enemy is dead!” she exclaimed in a whisper, standing moti
9 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter