CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

HER HIGHNESS'S WARNING.

The grey morning mist hung over the Tiber and over the Eternal City, but outside the town it was bright, crisp, and sunny.

Away at Frascati on the pleasant mountain slopes with those lovely views over the Campagna, fifteen miles from Rome, the day was charming, and at noon quite warm and delightful.

Perhaps of all the _contorini_ of Rome the Frascati is the most attractive. By road and rail it is easy of access, and perhaps this fact had induced Lola to telephone to Hubert and give him an appointment in the beautiful grounds of the Villa Aldobrandini, where there certainly would be no other person, save perhaps a few odd British tourists who would not recognise either of the pair.

At noon, therefore, both having arrived by train from Rome, they had met at a spot appointed by Her Highness, and were standing together against an old broken piece of statuary under a high hedge of dark ilex. The great old sixteenth-century villa, built by Cardinal Pietro Aldobrandini, nephew of Clement VIII, is now, alas! falling into decay; its fountains are dilapidated; its statuary broken; its terraces, once trod by papal dignitaries, moss-grown; while over the steps of its princ.i.p.al entrance the green lizards flash in the sunshine.

Its grounds, however, are still the delight of the traveller, with their terraces, their fantastic grottos, their fountains and rocks, their great oaks, their funereal cypresses, and their splendid extensive views.

From where the diplomat stood beside the Princess he could see far away across the plain to where the great dome of St Peter's rose in the blue-grey mists of the panorama, while on the other hand lay the ancient Tusculum, and the range of blue hills dominated by the Corbio--as the Italians call the Rocca Priora--while a little to the right shone the Lake of Albano, lying like a mirror in its basin in the sunshine.

Lola had arrived there first, but as he came swinging along the path a flush of pleasure mounted to her pale cheeks, and she put out her gloved hand, greeting him warmly.

Dressed in dark grey, and wearing a magnificent set of blue fox, she presented a very different appearance to that of the previous night when she had worn the old dress and close-fitting bonnet of Renata's.

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! Your English servants are horribly abrupt, I a.s.sure you."

"I'm so sorry," he said, hastening to apologise. "I fear abruptness is one of his failings, but he is honest. I've reprimanded him lots of times."

"Ah! I expect he hears a good many female voices on the 'phone," she laughed, teasing him; "and he has orders to what you call it in English, to choke them off--eh?" and she laughed.

Together they walked along the gravelled path to where, beneath a tall cypress, was an old semicircular stone seat, one of those placed there when the great cardinal laid out the grounds of his princely villa.

Upon that they seated themselves when suddenly Her Highness, with an anxious look upon her face, turned to her companion and said, still speaking in English.

"I fear that we may be watched, therefore I made this appointment with you here."

"Watched?" he echoed. "Who by? Old Ghelardi, I suppose?"

"No. I have no great fear of him," she answered. "But you have enemies here, in Rome," she went on very seriously. "I have discovered that they are desperate and intend to do you some grievous harm. Therefore I urge you to make some excuse to leave Rome at once."

"Why, whatever do you mean, Princess?" he asked, staring at her.

"How often have I forbidden you to use that t.i.tle to me?" she cried petulantly. "To you I am Lola, plain Lola, as always," she said, looking very gravely into his eyes. "We are friends. That is why I am here to warn you."

"But I really don't understand," he protested. "What enemies can I have here? And if I have, what harm can they possibly do me? I'm not afraid, I a.s.sure you."

"Ah! I know you are not afraid," she answered. "But from what I have heard, it seems probable that these people, whoever they are, must be in fear of you--they suspect you are cognisant of some secret of theirs."

The word "secret" held him speechless for some seconds. She knew nothing of the theft that had been committed at the Ministry of War.

The only "secret" which he had tried to discover was the ident.i.ty of the thief.

"But how came you to know this?" he asked at last.

"I--well I heard a rumour last night," was her vague reply; "and I thought it my duty, as your friend, to warn you lest you should be entrapped or taken unawares."

"Then you really and honestly believe that these mysterious, unknown persons, whoever they are, mean mischief?" he asked, looking anxiously into her pale, anxious countenance.

How handsome she was! How deeply, too, was he in love with her. He held his breath, remembering how frantically he had kissed her hand; how he had told her of the great burning pa.s.sion within his heart, though she had lain there with all consciousness blotted out.

"If I had any doubt, Signor Waldron, I should not trouble to raise this alarm," she answered in a tone of slight reproach.

"But how can I leave Rome?" he asked, for he was reflecting that to adopt her suggestion was impossible. His duty to the King, as well as his duty to the British Service, precluded it at present. "Cannot you go on leave again? Or--or cannot you get appointed to another post for six months--or a year?"

He was silent, his eyes fixed upon hers.

"Are you so very anxious then to get rid of me?" he asked gravely.

"To get rid of you?" she echoed blankly. "To get rid of you--my most sincere and devoted friend! How can you suggest such a thing?"

"Well, it almost seems so," he answered with a smile.

"My dear Signor Waldron, I warn you most seriously that you are in grave personal peril, and that--"

"But you do not tell me how you know this, Lola," he interrupted. "I am naturally most curious to know."

"Without doubt," she responded, her eyes cast down. "But the information is from a source which I have no desire to divulge. I learnt it entirely by accident."

"It was not contained in that letter I brought you from Brussels?" he asked very slowly, for of that he held a faint suspicion. He looked her straight in the eyes.

"Oh no," was her reply. "That letter--ah! it was about something-- something which affected me very closely. I know that I was very foolish to allow it to upset me so. It was absurd of me to faint as I did. But I could not help it. I suppose I am but a woman, after all."

It was on the tip of his tongue to describe how old Ghelardi had discovered them together in the room of the Minister of the Household, but he hesitated, fearing to unduly cause her annoyance. He had defied the chief spy of Italy, but was as yet uncertain whether the crafty old fellow had not gone secretly to the King and told him the story--with many embellishments, perhaps.

"Your indisposition was not your own fault, Lola," he answered in a voice of deepest sympathy. "No doubt Monsieur Pujalet's letter contained something to cause you the gravest disconcern."

"Disconcern!" she cried, starting up wildly, her big expressive eyes full of anxiety. "Ah! you do not know--how can you know all the tortures of conscience, of the daily, hourly terror I am now suffering!

No! You cannot understand."

"Because you will explain nothing," he remarked with dissatisfaction.

"I cannot, I dare not--even to you, my most intimate friend!"

"Well, Lola, I confess that each time we meet you become more and more mysterious."

"Ah! Because I am compelled. Surrounded by enemies, even my a.s.sociation with you seems to have placed you also in a deadly peril.

That is why I am appealing to you to leave Rome."

"I can't," he said. "That is entirely out of the question. But now that you have warned me I will be wary--and will carry my revolver, if you think it necessary."

"Cannot you leave Italy? It would be far safer."