CHAPTER XXXVI
ANNETTE TELLS A STORY
Prince Peretori was a by no means unpopular figure with those who knewhim both personally and by reputation. He had in him that strain of wildblood that seems peculiar to all the Balkan peninsula, where so manyextravagant things are done. In bygone days Peretori would have been aromantic figure. As it was, Western civilization had gone far to spoilhis character. Audacious deeds and elaborate practical jokes filled upthe measure of his spare time. For some months under a pseudonym he wasa prominent figure at a Vienna theatre. It was only when his identitybecame threatened that he had to abandon his latest fad.
But he was feeling deeply chagrined and mortified over his lastescapade. It never occurred to him at the time that he was doing anyreal harm. The King of Asturia, his cousin, he had always disliked anddespised; for the king he had the highest admiration. And it looked asif he had done the latter an incalculable injury.
That he had been touched on the raw of his vanity and made the catspawof others added fuel to his wrath. It would be no fault of his if he didnot get even the Countess Saens. He would take that money and pretendthat he enjoyed the joke. But it was going to be a costly business forCountess Saens and her ally Prince Mazaroff.
Peretori had pretty well made up his mind what line to take by the timehe had reached the house of the countess. The place was all in darkness,as if everybody had retired for the night; but Peretori had his ownreasons for believing that the countess had not returned home. Ifnecessary he would wait on the doorstep for her.
But perhaps the door was not fastened? With spies about, the countessmight feel inclined to keep the house in darkness. As a matter of factthe door was not fastened, and Peretori slipped quietly into the hall.He had no fear of being discovered, if he were discovered he had only tosay that he had come back for the reward of his latest exploit. To thecountess he had made no secret of the desperate nature of his pecuniaryaffairs.
The house seemed absolutely at rest, there could be no doubt that theservants had all gone to bed. Peretori stood in the hall a littleundecided what to do next. His sharp ears were listening intently. Itseemed to him presently that he could hear the sound of somebodylaughing in a subdued kind of way. As his eyes grew accustomed to thegloom, a thread of light from under a distant door crossed his line ofvision. Then there was the smothered explosion that was unmistakablymade by a champagne cork.
Peretori crept along to the door under which the track of light peeped.The door was pulled to, but the latch had not caught. Very quietlyPeretori pushed the door back so that he could look in. It was more orless as he had expected. Seated at a table where a dainty supper hadbeen laid out was a man who had the unmistakable hall-mark of agentleman's servant written all over him. On the other side of thetable sat the countess's maid Annette.
"Another glass," the maid was saying. "It is a brand of the best.Nothing comes into this house but the best, _ma foi_! And no questionsasked where things go to. So help yourself, _mon_ Robert! There is nochance of being interrupted."
The man sat there grinning uneasily. There was no conspirator here,Peretori decided. The man was no more than a shrewd cockneyservant--none too honest over trifles, perhaps, but he was not the classof man that political conspirators are made of. It was a romance of thekitchen on Robert's side.
"Bit risky, ain't it?" he said as he pulled at his champagne. "If yourmistress catches us----"
"There is no fear of that, Robert. She is in bed sound asleep long ago.Nothing wakes or disturbs her. She undressed herself to-night; shedispensed with my services. Oh, a good thing!"
"But risky sometimes, eh?" Robert said. "Lor, the trouble that some of'em give!"
"Oh, they have no heart, no feeling. It is slave, slave, slave! But wemake them pay for it. I make _her_ pay for it. And when I am ready to goback to Switzerland, I know that I have not worked in vain. And shecalled me a liar and a thief to-night."
Robert muttered something sympathetic. He had no wish for Annette to goback to Switzerland, he said. He had saved a little also. Did notAnnette think that a respectable boarding house or something select inthe licensed victualling line might do? The girl smiled coquettishly.
"And perhaps something better," she said, dropping her voice to awhisper. "I am not dishonest, I do no more than other ladies in myposition. Not that the perquisites are not handsome. But sometimes onehas great good luck. She call me thief and liar to-night; she say I nottell the truth when I say she was robbed to-night. I show her the realthief, and still she is doubtful. The real thief took those papers. Mindyou, they were papers of great value. That is certain. Suppose thosepapers came into my possession! Suppose I read them, and find themimmense importance! Suppose that they don't belong to the countess atall, that she has got them by a trick!"
Peretori listened eagerly. Now that he was _au fait_ of the situation,he knew exactly what Annette was talking about. He blessed his starsthat he had come here to-night. Without doubt Annette was talking of thepapers missing from the Foreign Office.
"Sounds good," Robert said. "Worth fifty or sixty pounds to somebodyelse perhaps."
"Worth ten thousand pounds!" Annette went on in the same fierce whisper."That money with what we have saved, eh? We could take a boarding housein Mount Street and make a fortune, you and I, my Robert. Look you,these papers vanish, they are taken by a lady in a black dress. Mymistress she say the lady meet with an accident and is taken to ahospital. The police come in and ask questions--_ma foi_! they askquestions till my head ache. Then they go away again, and my mistressleave the house again. My head ache so that I go and walk up and downthe pavement to get a breath of air."
"Sounds like a scene in a play," Robert said encouragingly. "Go on,ducky!"
"As I stood there a policeman come up to me. I know that policeman; heis young to his work--he admires me. You need not look so jealous, myRobert, it is not the police where my eyes go. But he has heard of therobbery. Not that he knows its importance--no, no! He can tell all aboutthe lady in Piccadilly who was run over. And behold he has picked up apacket of papers!"
"Good business!" Robert exclaimed. "You're something like astory-teller, Annette."
"That packet of papers he show me," Annette went on gaily. "There is anelastic band round them, and under the band an envelope with the crestof the countess upon it. Those papers were to be give up to ScotlandYard, mark you. But not if Annette knows anything about her man. Beholdin a few minutes those papers are in my pocket. It is a smile, a littlekiss, and the thing is done! Frown not, Robert, I have no use for thatsoft young policeman."
"You're a jolly deep one, that's what you are," Robert said withprofound admiration. "I should like to know what those papers are allabout. I suppose you've read 'em?"
"No; they are in French, the French used by the educated classes. Thelanguage is very different to my Swiss. But I have a friend who will beable to tell me what they are all about. Meanwhile, the papers arecarefully hidden away where they cannot be found. My policeman, he darenot speak; even if he did, I could say that the papers were rubbishwhich I had thrown away. But the countess she call me a liar and athief. She shall never see them again. What's that?"
A sudden violent ringing of the front door bell startled the supperparty and the listener in the hall. Robert rose and grabbed his hat asif prepared for flight.
"No, no!" the fertile Annette whispered. "Don't go. I'll reply to thatbell. It is easy to say that I have not gone to bed, and that I camedown. Stay where you are. You are quite safe. It may be a cablegram,they sometimes come quite late at night. Just turn down the light."
Peretori stepped into one of the darkened rooms and awaited events. Hesaw Annette come into the hall and flick up the glaring electrics. Inher usual demure way she opened the front door and confronted a fussylittle man who stood on the step.
"Your mistress," he said hurriedly. "Your mistress. I must see her atonce--at once!"
"But my mistress has gone to bed," Annette protested. "She i
s asleep forsome time, and----"
"Then you must wake her up," the little man said. "At once. It is no useto make a fuss, my good girl, I am bound to see the countess. Tell herthat Mr. Hunt is here--Mr. Hunt of the _Mercury_, whose business willnot brook delay."
The Weight of the Crown Page 36
