A Revolution Of Love

by Barbara Cartland

  “We have indeed,” Drogo replied. “Could I have a word with you in private?”

  The Customs Officer raised his eyebrows, but as Drogo walked from the bridge onto the deck, he followed him.

  Speaking in a low but authoritative voice Drogo said,

  “I am on a mission of Military importance and I want you to arrange that my wife and I are conveyed to the British Embassy with an armed escort.”

  The Customs Officer was astonished.

  “An escort?”

  “Has a Russian ship recently arrived here from Kozan?”

  The Customs Officer thought for a moment and then he replied,

  “I believe a Russian Destroyer came into Port yesterday.”

  “That is what I suspected,” Drogo said.

  He knew that one of the destroyers he had last seen in the harbour of Ampula could have reached Alexandria more swiftly than The Thistle.

  “You mean,” Mr. Smithson said, “that the Russians – ”

  “You will understand that it is something I cannot discuss,” Drogo interposed. “I require a carriage and an escort which, as I said, should be armed.”

  He knew that the way he spoke would prevent the Customs Officer from arguing with him rather than carrying out his instructions.

  He was also aware that, because Mr. Smithson was quite a young man, there was a look of excitement in his eyes.

  Every British Official, however lowly his position, was aware that the Russians were a menace to the British Empire.

  “I will see to it at once, sir,” the Customs Officer said in a respectful tone.

  “I am very grateful,” Drogo replied. “My wife and I will stay aboard until the carriage arrives.”

  Mr. Smithson hurried back onto the bridge, handed back his papers to the Captain and gave permission for the ship to unload.

  Then he went ashore, moving a great deal quicker than the way he had come aboard.

  “What be ye up to now?” Captain McKay asked Drogo when they were alone.

  “I am making sure that my wife and I reach the British Embassy in safety,” Drogo replied.

  The Captain frowned.

  “Can you think of any reason why you should not do so?”

  Drogo nodded.

  “There are two men down there on the quay. Don’t look until after I have left you.”

  “What be they?” Captain McKay enquired.

  “Russians,” Drogo said briefly.

  “Damn their black hearts!” the Captain swore. “I’ll no have them on my ship.”

  “Make sure of that,” Drogo ordered, “until after we have left. And you will understand if my wife and I have breakfast in our cabin this morning?”

  “Aye, that’ll be wise of ye,” the Captain agreed.

  “I knew you would think so,” Drogo replied. “And I can never be grateful enough that you took me away from Ampula when I asked you to do so.”

  That was true, although Captain McKay had certainly exacted a high price for it.

  Drogo left the bridge.

  “I am going to the galley,” he said.

  He went to tell the Chinese cook that he and Thekla would be having their breakfast in their cabin.

  “I bring,” the Chinaman said in his sing-song voice.

  Drogo hurried back to Thekla.

  She unlocked the door when he told her who was there and then he went in. She was dressed in her chemise and her petticoat.

  She flung her arms round him saying,

  “I have been so frightened. Terribly – frightened in case something is – wrong. Tell me what is happening. I must – know.”

  “There is nothing wrong,” Drogo said quietly, “and I am just making certain that nothing will be. It is always better to be prepared.”

  “Prepared against what?”

  As Drogo did not answer, she clung to him closer saying,

  “You cannot – think the Red Marchers are – trying to – take me back?”

  “No, my precious,” he said. “It’s not you the Russians are interested in, but me.”

  “The Russians!” She said the words with a note of terror in her voice.

  “It’s all right,” Drogo said soothingly. “I have sent for an armed escort of British soldiers and I promise you that they inspire a great deal of respect in Egypt.”

  “What made you think – that the Russians are looking for you here?”

  “I may have been mistaken,” Drogo said lightly, “but there are two rather unpleasant-looking characters on the quay and I have just learnt that a Russian Destroyer arrived here yesterday from Kozan.”

  Thekla drew in her breath.

  Then she cried almost frantically,

  “You must be very very – careful. If – anything should happen – to you, I would want – to die!”

  “I am taking care of both of us,” Drogo said positively. “So finish dressing, my darling, and then as soon as the carriage arrives we can go ashore.”

  They had breakfast, which Chang brought them. Then Drogo helped Thekla finish dressing.

  He buttoned up the very attractive gown that he had brought from the Palace, which was far too elaborate for her to have worn whilst they were at sea.

  She swung round to show him how well it fitted her, making her waist look minutely small.

  Then she stopped still to say in consternation,

  “I have suddenly remembered, I have no hat or bonnet. How can I go ashore without one?”

  Drogo thought for a moment, thinking that her dark hair was so lovely it was almost a crime to hide it.

  Then he answered,

  “I am sure you have something you can drape over your hair.”

  “Of course,” Thekla said. “There is the sash that belongs to my blue dress.”

  She pulled it out of the bolster where she had already packed most of her things and Drogo saw that it was a long length of chiffon.

  Very gently he put it over her head and then wrapped the ends round her neck. It framed her face, making her, he thought, look rather Eastern and at the same time exquisitely beautiful.

  It was easier to tell her in kisses how she looked than in words.

  *

  It was a long time later before Drogo packed his own things.

  Slipping his revolver into the pocket of his jacket, he went to the porthole to look out.

  By this time the quay seemed crowded.

  There was already a large pile of wood that had been unloaded from The Thistle and, as he had expected, the ghullie-ghullie men were there. Besides those with something to sell, there were beggars, children, and just onlookers who apparently had nothing else to do.

  Also standing where they were before were the two Russians.

  Even as he looked at them, he saw the crowds on the quay moving aside and he was aware that a team of horses was driving through them.

  They were drawing a carriage, which from its appearance was too smart to be anything but an Embassy conveyance.

  A British soldier in uniform was driving and another soldier sat beside him.

  Just behind the carriage came two more soldiers on horseback.

  When Chang had brought their breakfast, Drogo had said to him,

  “When I have to go ashore, would you be kind enough to carry our luggage down to the carriage?”

  Ching had agreed.

  Now when he came to the cabin to say that the carriage was waiting for them, Drogo indicated the three filled bolsters that contained everything they possessed.

  Ching carried them down the gangway to the carriage and, when he came back, Drogo tipped him generously.

  It was in French money, but he knew that he could change it almost anywhere in the East and quite easily in Alexandria.

  As they came up the companionway, Captain McKay was waiting for them at the top.

  “You’re certainly leavin’ in style,” he commented cynically.

  Thinking how he had looked when he had first spoken to the Captain in Amp
ula, Drogo smiled.

  “It’s entirely due to you. Captain, that we are not still in hiding from the revolutionaries.”

  “I may be goin’ back,” Captain McKay said laconically.

  Drogo thanked him again and Thekla told him,

  “We have been so very happy in your beautiful cabin. I hope sometimes when you are sleeping there – you will think of us, as we shall be thinking of you.”

  It was a pretty speech and Drogo realised that the Captain was touched by it.

  When he led the way down the gangplank, his right hand was in his pocket and his finger on the trigger.

  They stepped into the carriage.

  The two soldiers on horseback moved in to be on either side of the carriage as they drove slowly down the quay.

  As they passed the two Russians, Drogo appeared not to look at them, but he was aware that they were surprised at the way he was travelling and did not know what to do about it.

  He was quite sure that their instructions had been to somehow get hold of him and take him to the Destroyer for questioning.

  If they had succeeded, he would undoubtedly have had ‘an unfortunate accident’ and would not have been heard of again.

  Now, as they reached the main street leading from the harbour, the horses moved quicker.

  Drogo knew that again, by the mercy of God, he had saved himself and Thekla.

  They reached the Embassy, which was a large impressive building with the Union Jack flying from a flagpole in front of it.

  He had expected that the British Ambassador would be in Cairo.

  To his surprise, when he stepped out of the carriage and asked conventionally if the Ambassador was there, he was told that he was.

  He was shown into a waiting room that looked, Drogo thought, like every English waiting room he had ever seen.

  There was a rather badly coloured portrait of the Queen on one wall and one of the Khedive of Egypt on another.

  A servant asked them if they would like Turkish or English coffee, but, before Drogo could answer, an aide-de-camp appeared to say that the Ambassador would see him.

  “Would you be kind enough in my absence to take care of my wife?” Drogo asked. “And for reasons which I need not explain, I think it wise while I discuss matters with His Excellency that she is not left alone.”

  The aide-de-camp’s eyes widened in surprise as he said,

  “I understand, sir. Will you come this way?”

  Moving only a short distance down the passage he opened a door to announce,

  “Mr. Forde, Your Excellency!”

  Then, as Drogo entered the room, he heard the aide-de-camp going back to Thekla.

  The Ambassador was seated at his desk by the window and he rose to his feet as Drogo entered.

  “I am delighted to see you, Forde,” he said. “In fact, I have been looking for you because – ”

  “Forgive me, Your Excellency,” Drogo interrupted, “but it is of the utmost urgency that I send a message immediately to the Viceroy. It has already been delayed too long, and I need not explain that every moment it is further delayed might result in the deaths of a large number of our men.”

  As Drogo finished speaking, the Ambassador went into action with the swiftness of a man who was used to emergencies.

  He picked up a bell on his desk , rang it and at the same time he said,

  “I presume you want Code A.”

  Drogo was aware that this was the top code, so secret that it was only used on the submarine cable by the Foreign Secretary, the Viceroy or the Heads of Staff.

  He nodded.

  “Yes, please, Your Excellency.”

  The Ambassador unlocked a drawer of his desk with a key he took from his waistcoat pocket and handed him a small book.

  As he did so, the door opened and an Officer came into the room.

  “You rang, Your Excellency?” he asked.

  “Take Mr. Forde immediately to the cable room and see that he is attended to only by Darwin.”

  Drogo followed the Officer through the house and down a long passage that led to another house at the back of it, which had two sentries on duty outside the door.

  It took him nearly forty minutes to encode the cable to the Viceroy telling him what he had discovered during the time he had been in Afghanistan.

  When he finished, he felt as if a heavy burden had fallen from his shoulders.

  He could only pray that what he had communicated to the Viceroy would be in time to forestall what otherwise might be a devastating situation on the North-West Frontier.

  It had taken over seven months to obtain the information and it had also nearly cost him his life more than a dozen times.

  It was only when he thought of Thekla did he know that every moment of terror had been worthwhile.

  At the end of it all he had found her and what more could a man ask for?

  He rose from the chair where he had been sitting and picked up the precious code book, which few men even in The Great Game had ever been allowed to see.

  The door behind him opened and the Officer who had taken him to the cable room came in.

  “You have finished?” he asked.

  “For the moment,” Drogo replied.

  “I want to say how much I admire your work,” the Officer said. “I have some idea what you have been doing because there has been such a commotion when we could not get in touch with you.”

  Drogo looked surprised.

  “You have been trying to get in touch with me?” he asked. “Why?”

  “His Excellency will explain that,” the Officer said. “I understand he has taken your wife to the drawing room and he has ordered champagne for luncheon! I imagine you, or we, have a lot to celebrate!”

  Drogo laughed,

  “I have often wondered why the British always insist on having some excuse before they drink champagne.”

  The Officer laughed.

  “As I have already said, I am sure that you deserve every drop of it!”

  He took Drogo into a large, well-furnished drawing room with French windows opening into a flower-filled garden.

  Thekla, he noticed, having removed the chiffon scarf from her head, was sitting on a sofa talking to the Ambassador.

  As Drogo appeared, she jumped to her feet before the Ambassador could do so and ran towards him.

  “You have been a – long time,” she said. “I was worried.”

  “Everything is all right, my darling.”

  Then he looked at the Ambassador.

  “I am very grateful to Your Excellency for ensuring that there was no further delay.”

  “Your wife has been telling me that you were married in Ampula and I thought that we should celebrate your marriage at luncheon, although I feel sure that you would appreciate a glass of champagne now.”

  “Thank you,” Drogo said.

  He was wondering if Thekla had told the Ambassador who she was and then thought that it was unlikely.

  “I think, however,” the Ambassador said, “I should tell you first that I have been trying to find out where you were for the last two months.”

  Drogo looked surprised.

  Then he repeated,

  “For the last two months? But why?”

  “I hope that this will not be too much of a shock for you.”

  Drogo was still.

  He felt Thekla slip her fingers into his and knew that she was afraid.

  His fingers tightened over hers and he wondered frantically what could have occurred.

  Then the Ambassador said,

  “The Foreign Secretary, The Earl of Rosebery, notified all Embassies in this part of the world that, if they had news of you, to let you know that you are required back in England immediately.”

  Drogo looked at him in astonishment.

  “For what reason?”

  “Your cousin, the Earl, has been killed during a skirmish in the Sudan!”

  Drogo was still, but he drew in his breath.

&
nbsp; “Your uncle, the Marquis, had a heart attack when he heard the news and the Secretary of State thought that you should return at once as the doctors reported that they would be unable to save his life.”

  The Ambassador paused before he continued,

  “Unfortunately we were unable to communicate with you and your uncle died three weeks ago.”

  It was impossible for the moment for Drogo to say anything.

  He could only think that in his wildest dreams he had never imagined that both his cousin and his uncle would die and that his whole life would change because of it.

  Incredibly that was what had happened when he had least expected it.

  Then he was aware that Thekla was looking up at him anxiously and that the Ambassador was rather embarrassed by the news he had to impart.

  “This is certainly a surprise, Your Excellency!” he managed to say in a voice that sounded grave, but at the same time calm.

  “You are – not unhappy – about it?”

  Thekla’s question was only in a whisper, but he heard it and looked down at her.

  He knew, if he was truthful, that he was not in the least unhappy.

  He only found it unbelievable to know that from being a penniless soldier with a mountain of debts he was suddenly an extremely important Nobleman with a huge estate.

  Even as he thought of himself, he knew that Thekla was also something he had never expected.

  It was a gift from God and this news would change her life as well.

  For a Royal Princess to marry a man with hardly a penny to his name was a very different matter from her marrying the Marquis of Baronforde.

  She would be the chatelaine of one of the finest houses in the country and Hereditary Lady-of-the-Bedchamber to the Queen, while her husband held a number of other posts at Court.

  Because it was everything that would make life easier and more wonderful for her, Drogo suddenly wanted to shout with joy and proclaim his happiness from the housetops.

  But years of self-control made him say quietly,

  “Your Excellency has certainly brought me grave news. As you anticipate, my wife and I must return to England immediately to cope with the situation.”

  There was a faint look of relief on the Ambassador’s face.

  Then Drogo said.

  “Even as you have surprised me, I have a surprise for you. My wife, whom I married in Ampula is Her Royal Highness Princess Thekla of Kozan!”