rememberingthe secret lover, he wondered what had become of him.
"Then old Gigleux was not your uncle, after all?" remarked Waldron, forhe remembered how Jack Jerningham had recognised him on that New Year'snight at Shepheard's.
"No. Listen and I'll tell you the truth," the Princess said in verygood English. She was delightfully unconventional. "You see my aunt,the Queen, was very much annoyed because I motored to Florence alone,and some gossip got about regarding me--because I went to a fancy-dressball with a gentleman I know. Well, I fear I was a little hot-tempered,with the result that I was unceremoniously packed off on a long tour toEgypt and given into the charge of Miss Lambert and old Ghelardi, whohad been in the German Service, but who had just returned to Italy andwas appointed by the King as Chief of our Secret Police. I was orderedby the King to assume the name of Duprez, while Ghelardi was to be knownas Jules Gigleux. And I think we kept up the farce fairly well--didn'twe?"
"Most excellently. Nobody had the slightest suspicion of the truth, Ifeel sure."
"I know I told you some awful stories--about my poverty, and all that.But you will forgive me--won't you?" she implored.
"Of course," replied the diplomat, charmed by her sweetness andfrankness of manner. "It was necessary in order to preserve yourincognita. I realise now the reason why your pseudo-uncle regarded mewith such a decided antipathy. First he feared lest we might fall inlove with each other--"
"And there was no fear of that, was there?" she laughed, interrupting.
"I don't know exactly," he answered half-dubiously. "You flirted withme outrageously sometimes."
"Ah, I know I did! It was, I admit, too bad of me, Mr Waldron. But Ido hope even now you've found me out in all those white lies that itwill make no difference to our friendship."
"Why, not in the least," he declared. "I am greatly honoured by YourRoyal Highness's friendship."
"No, no," she cried impatiently, "not Highness to you, Mr Waldron.Lola--still Lola, please."
"Very well," laughed the man. "But surely that will sound too familiarfrom one in my station?"
"When we are alone, I mean. Of course in Society, or at Court I may beHer Royal Highness the Principessa Luisa Anna Romana Elisabetta MarieGiovanna di Savoia--and half a dozen other names and titles if you like.They really don't trouble me," and she carelessly cast her well-wornsealskin muff upon the couch near her.
"Ah," he sighed, "I fear you are a sad breaker of the conventionalities.Before I knew that you were my little friend of the Nile I had heardseveral stories of your various little escapades."
"Oh yes," she cried quickly. "No doubt you've been told some awfultales about my doings--stories which get about Rome, and everyoneexaggerates them as they pass from mouth to mouth. My worst offence, Ibelieve, is because I entered for a motor-cycle race and won it. Well,haven't your girls in England won similar races?"
"True, but what a shop-assistant may do is forbidden to a princess," washis reproof.
"Ah, that's just it?" she exclaimed in protest. "Merely because Ihappen to be born a princess I'm supposed to put on a veneer of Courtmanners, and observe Court etiquette day in and day out, until it allbores me stiff--as you say in English. Just because I try and behavelike other girls, obtain my freedom when I can, and enjoy myself withopen-air pursuits, I am held in horror by Their Majesties, and thepeople declare that I am a disgrace to our Royal House."
"No--not a disgrace, Princess."
"Lola, please," she said, correcting him.
"Lola then--if you will have it so," he said. "The people secretlyadmire you for your courage in breaking the steel bonds of Courtetiquette; nevertheless remember that such escapades as yours must leadyou into danger--grave personal danger. You are a girl, and rememberalso that there are some blackguards about who, knowing your active anddaring temperament, may entrap you and then levy blackmail upon you."
Her beautiful face instantly fell. He saw that she grew paler and morethoughtful. Her lips twitched slightly.
"You think so," she said slowly, her voice so changed that he wondered."You think that someone might really attempt to levy blackmail upon me--eh?"
"Certainly. And in that lies the very serious peril to which you mustbe exposed, if you continue to disregard the conventionalities whichsurround you as a daughter of a Royal House."
"You are rather hard upon me, Mr Waldron," she said in a low voice,quite unusual to her.
"Not in the least. Remember I am your friend. If at any time I canserve you in any way you have only to come to me, and I will exert everyeffort on your behalf," he said, speaking very earnestly. "But I wouldbeg of you to exercise the greatest discretion. Why continue to annoyTheir Majesties by this conduct which must sooner or later bringunpleasantness, and perhaps trouble, upon you?"
"Trouble!" she echoed, her great dark eyes fixed upon him. "Trouble!It has already brought trouble upon me. That is why I came hereto-night to see you--to tell you--to confess--and to ask your help as mygood, kind friend?"
CHAPTER TWELVE.
THE KING'S CONFIDENCES.
At that moment there was a discreet tap at the door and Peters entered,saying:
"An aide-de-camp of His Majesty wishes to see you on a matter of greatimportance, sir."
For a second Waldron stood confused.
"Oh! he must not find me here," whispered the Princess, starting up inquick alarm. "Where can I go?"
"In this room," the diplomat replied quickly, opening a door which ledto his small dining-room. He switched on the light, and she passedwithin, closing the door noiselessly. It was all done in a few seconds,and then Hubert said in his natural voice:
"Oh, show him in."
Next moment a tall, good-looking, dark-moustached officer, wearing hisgrey military cloak, entered jauntily, saying in Italian with a merrytwinkle in his eyes as he grasped the other's hand:
"Sorry to disturb you at this hour, friend Waldron--especially when youhave a lady visitor."
"Lady visitor! What do you mean?" he asked, for Count Guicciolo was anold friend of many years.
"Well, your man told me that you could not be disturbed, so I naturallyformed my own conclusions," replied the aide-de-camp airily, pointing tothe muff. "But I apologise. Here is a message for you from HisMajesty. I was to deliver it into your hands," and from beneath hiscloak he produced a letter which upon the flap bore the neat royalcipher of the House of Savoy.
In surprise the diplomat broke the seal and read the following formalwords:
"_His Majesty the King commands to private audience the HonourableHubert Waldron, M.V.O., this evening and immediately_," followed by thedate.
Hubert noticed the neat handwriting. It had been penned by His MajestyKing Umberto himself.
"Well!" he asked the Count.
"I was sent to bring you at once to the Palace, my friend," replied theother.
"What is amiss? Surely it is strange that I should receive a command atthis hour!"
"Yes. But His Majesty works very late sometimes."
"Is anything seriously wrong?"
"Not that I am aware of. I was simply summoned to the private cabinet,and His Majesty gave me that letter, and ordered me to find you atonce," and he took a cigarette from the silver box which Waldron handedhim, and holding it in his white-gloved hand slowly lit it.
"Will you come with me now?" he asked as he cast away the match. "I'mawfully sorry to disturb you," he added with a laugh. "But it is HisMajesty's orders."
"Oh, don't apologise," was the diplomat's reply. He was annoyed, for heknew what a sad gossip was Guicciolo, and that on the morrow half Romewould know that a young lady had been found in his rooms. At allhazards her identity must be concealed. Therefore, making an excuse toobtain his coat, Waldron passed into the dining-room where the Princesswas standing in anxiety, whispered to her an explanation how he wouldhave to leave unceremoniously and urging her to leave five minuteslater.
"We will resume our conversation to-m
orrow," he added. "But not here.It is far too dangerous."
"Where then?" she asked eagerly in a low whisper. "I will meet youanywhere after dark." He reflected a second. Then said:
"Do you know Bucci's little restaurant in the Piazza delle Coppelle?"
"Yes, I know. Quite a quiet little place. I will never be recognisedthere."
"Well, at half-past eight. The dinner will be over then, and the placewill be empty."
"Agreed. _Addio_," she said, and they grasped hands
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