Read Her Royal Highness: A Romance of the Chancelleries of Europe Page 37

Embassies you will be told that the peace of Europe isquite assured nowadays, and though your penny papers with their"advertised actual sales" will print reassuring leaders for the sake ofthe particular party who supports them, yet there is not a diplomat inall Europe who does not, in his own heart, fear a violent and bloodyexplosion and that brought about by the Dual Monarchy.

  Though this view may appear pessimistic, it is nevertheless a hard factthat the Powers of the Triple Alliance have not signed any agreementsrelating to the Mediterranean, and more than one European throne isto-day tottering to its fall, nay, more than one nation may, at anymoment, be erased from the map.

  But the whole object of diplomacy is to reassure, not to alarm. Thedays when the greatest international tension exists are those when theoutlook seems the most serene and unruffled.

  In our present century war breaks out; it is not declared. And war inEurope may break out at any moment, even though much is said of thesolidity of the Triple Alliance.

  On arrival at the great echoing station at Rome, Hubert descended, tiredand fagged, and took a taxi home.

  It was then nine o'clock in the morning, and Peters, surprised to seehim, handed him a letter which had been left on the previous night. Onopening it he found it was from Ghelardi, dated from the Bureau ofSecret Police, and asking when he could see him.

  At this request he was somewhat surprised in view of what had alreadypassed between them, nevertheless he spoke to the functionary on thetelephone at his private house and at eleven o'clock entered his privateroom at the Ministry.

  Their greeting was the reverse of cordial. Indeed Hubert had at firsthesitated to meet him at all, yet he thought that the object of theinterview might concern the unfortunate incident in the Palace; hence hewent, determined to still show a bold front.

  "I regret, Signor Waldron, to have disturbed you," the crafty old mansaid when his visitor was seated. "But it has been reported to me thatthe other night you were attacked by two individuals, and that younarrowly escaped with your life--that you shot and wounded both yourassailants."

  The policeman had, notwithstanding the bribe, evidently made a report inorder to show his watchfulness to his superior. Hubert frowned inannoyance.

  "Oh, it was nothing at all," he declared, laughing. "I had quiteforgotten all about it. They were merely footpads, I suppose. Nofurther notice need be taken of them."

  "Ah! but they are very dangerous characters, and well-known in Rome," hesaid. Then, looking straight at him the old man with the bristly hairsaid in a curious, half-suspicious voice: "You appear, Signor Waldron,to have some rather bitter enemies in Rome--eh?"

  "I was not aware of it," answered the diplomat. "If I have it does nottrouble me in the least. I am perfectly able to defend myself."

  "They are secret enemies, it seems," Ghelardi said slowly, looking athis visitor meaningly.

  Hubert did not reply for a few moments. At last he said:

  "And they include yourself, Signor Commendatore."

  The cunning old fellow smiled.

  "Ah, you are referring, I suppose, to that incident of the other night.Well, I think we may surely let that pass. We all of us have our hoursof irresponsibility," and he slowly twisted the diamond ring around hislittle finger, laughing lightly.

  "Thank you. I have no desire for your covert sneers, SignorCommendatore," he said angrily, rising. "As I have told you--you are mysecret enemy, and I shall treat you as such."

  "It is rather a pity that you do so."

  "A pity--why?"

  "For the sake of Her Royal Highness."

  "Her name need not enter into our discussion," Hubert said hotly, hishand upon the door ready to leave. "I do not see your object introubling me to come here, merely to tell me of the attack made upon meby two criminals which the police should already have under lock andkey. It is not much to the credit of the department that the streets ofRome are unsafe at night."

  "Ah! my dear signore, you are a little too impatient, I fear," repliedthe chief of spies, quite undisturbed. "I was about to prove to you myfriendliness."

  "I desire none of your friendship," declared the Englishman hotly. "AndI tell you that I will not have you mention the name of the PrincessLuisa in connection with my own."

  "Friendships formed by Her Royal Highness are frequently unfortunate."

  "Are they!" exclaimed Waldron, his eyes aflame. "If you were younger,Signor Commendatore, I would knock you down for your gratuitous insult.As it is, I shall not forget it. _Buon giorno_!"

  And he left the room, slamming the door after him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

  GATHERING CLOUDS.

  Dust had once more been thrown into the eyes of Europe.

  Weeks had gone by, spring came, and the Roman season was on the wane.The month of May--the Primavera--with all its blossoms and ceremonieshad opened.

  As far as the world knew not a cloud obscured the political horizon. Inthe chancelleries of Europe there were no sinister whispers, in theEmbassies they danced and dined, the Archduke Francis Ferdinand had madea placid speech from the Throne, and Count Berchtold had declared theforeign policy of Austria-Hungary unchanged, and further, that thechanges in the Near East had created new interests common to the DualMonarchy and to Italy, and that their policy was leading them togetheralong the path of co-operation, and also that their attitude towardseach other tended to preserve the peace of Europe and to assure freedomand equilibrium in the Adriatic.

  It is always so. The calm is followed by the storm. At Vienna theywere secretly completing their plans for a sudden coup against theirneighbours, yet the true facts were known only in our own IntelligenceDepartment in Whitehall, and the information had in turn been sent in acipher dispatch to the Embassy in Rome.

  It was this dispatch which the Ambassador, receiving it one evening fromthe hand of the King's messenger, who had brought it in hot haste directfrom Downing Street, passed over to Hubert to decipher.

  The information was highly alarming, to say the least.

  The British secret agent--a responsible Austrian official in theMinistry of War--reported that the great army massed in the Tyrol formanoeuvres was being kept there. A secret order had been issued to theEighth, Tenth, and Thirteenth Army Corps to concentrate from theAdriatic across to the Danube, and at the same time the Ministry ofMarine had issued orders to the navy recalling the Adriatic fleet whichhad been manoeuvring between Cattaro and Ragusa up to Trieste.

  The wireless stations at Sebenico and Pola had been taken over by thenavy, and operators placed there sent expressly from the Ministry ofMarine in Vienna.

  All tended to a secret attack--to war--a war in Europe withdreadnoughts, high explosives, aeroplanes, seaplanes, submarines, andwireless conditions never before imagined either in the wildest dreamsof novelists or the ever-active brains of place-seeking partypoliticians.

  Preparations were slowly but surely being made in Vienna, and the blowwould surely soon be struck.

  For an hour Waldron remained in consultation with his Chief. Then,regardless of Downing Street regulations, and only hoping to prevent theconflagration, he went back to his rooms on the ground floor of theEmbassy, scribbled a hasty copy of the secret information, and with itwalked direct to the Quirinale.

  Events would, he saw, very soon be moving fast.

  About six o'clock he entered the private room of the Minister of theRoyal Household, that cosy, well-remembered apartment in which Ghelardihad discovered him on his knees beside Her Royal Highness. The Ministerhimself was not in, but his secretary went immediately along to theprivate apartments and asked His Majesty for audience on Waldron'sbehalf.

  The request was immediately granted, and he was at once shown up thelong corridor, past the sentries guarding the door leading to the royalapartments, and on into the King's private cabinet, where His Majesty,plainly dressed in dark blue serge--for he discarded uniform whenever hecould--stood eagerly awaiting him.

  "Well, Waldron?" he exc
laimed, stretching out his hand warmly, "I'vebeen expecting you for days. Anything to report--eh?"

  For answer his visitor drew out the rough memorandum from his pocket,and after brief explanation regarding its source, proceeded to read it.

  His Majesty's handsome, clear-cut face fell. He grew pale, but remainedsilent till the end.

  Then with his hands behind his back, he strode slowly across the softcarpet to the heavily curtained window and back again.

  Twice he paced the room in silence.

  "Strange, Waldron!" he said, pausing and standing before the diplomat."Very strange that you get this information, yet Ghelardi is inignorance of what is happening?"

  "He may not deem it wise to report to Your Majesty," Hubert suggested.

  "Wise!" he echoed. "In the interests of the country's safety it is