CHAPTER IV
A RUN WITH ROSALIE
Several months had elapsed since my adventure with "Valentine of theBeautiful Eyes."
From Germany Count Bindo di Ferraris had sent me with the car rightacross Europe to Florence, where, at Nenci's, the builders ofmotor-bodies, I, in obedience to orders, had it repainted a brightyellow--almost the colour of mustard.
When, a fortnight later, it came out of the Nenci works, I hardlyrecognised it. At Bindo's orders I had had a second body built, one madeof wicker, and lined inside with glazed white leather, which, when fixedupon the chassis, completely transformed it. This second body I sent byrail down to Leghorn, and then drove the car along the Arno valley, downto the sea-shore.
My orders were to go to the Palace Hotel at Leghorn, and there await mymaster. The hotel in question was, I found, one of the best in Italy,filled by the smartest crowd of men and women, mostly of the Italianaristocracy, who went there for the magnificent sea-bathing. It was ahuge white building, with many balconies, and striped awnings, facingthe blue Mediterranean.
Valentine had travelled with me as far as Milan, while Bindo had takentrain, I believe, to Berlin. At Milan my pretty companion had wished meadieu, and a month later I had taken up my residence in Leghorn, andthere led an idle life, wondering when I was to hear next from Bindo.Before we parted he gave me a fairly large sum of money, and told me toremain at Leghorn until he joined me.
Weeks passed. Leghorn in summer is the Brighton of Italy, and everythingthere was delightfully gay. In the garage of the hotel were many cars,but not one so good as our 40-h.p. "Napier." The Italians all admiredit, and on several occasions I took motoring enthusiasts of both sexesout for short runs along the old Maremma sea-road.
The life I led was one of idleness, punctuated by little flirtations,for by Bindo's order I was staying at the Palace as owner of the car,and not as a mere chauffeur. The daughters of Italian countesses andmarchionesses, though brought up so strictly, are always eager forflirtation, and therefore as I sat alone at my table in the big_salle-a-manger_ I caught many a glance from black eyes that dancedwith merry mischievousness.
Valentine, when she left me in Milan, had said, laughingly--
"I may rejoin you again ere long, M'sieur Ewart, but not as yourpretended wife, as at Brussels."
"I hope not, mademoiselle," I had answered quite frankly. "That game isa little too dangerous. I might really fall in love with you."
"With me?" she cried, holding up her small hands in a quick gesture."What an idea! Oh! la la! _Jamais_."
I smiled. Mademoiselle was extremely beautiful. No woman I had ever metpossessed such wonderful eyes as hers.
"_Au revoir, mon cher_," she said. "And a pleasant time to you till wemeet again." Then as I mounted on the car and traversed the big Piazzadel Duomo, before the Cathedral, she waved her hand to me in farewell.
It was, therefore, without surprise that, sitting in the hall of thehotel about five o'clock one afternoon, I watched her in an elegantwhite gown descending the stairs, followed by a neat French maid inblack.
Quickly I sprang up, bowed, and greeted her in French before a dozen orso of the idling guests.
As we walked across to Pancaldi's baths she told her new maid to go onin front, and in a few quick words explained.
"I arrived direct from Paris this morning. Here, I am the PrincessHelen of Dornbach-Laxenburg of the Ringstrasse, in Vienna, theSchloss Kirchbuechl, on the Drave, and Avenue des Champs Elysees,Paris, a Frenchwoman married to an Austrian. My husband, a man mucholder than myself, will arrive here in a few days."
"And the maid?"
"She knows nothing to the contrary. She has been with me only afortnight. Now you must speak of me in the hotel. Say that you knew mewell at Monte Carlo, Rome, Carlsbad, and Aix; that you have stayed atKirchbuechl, and have dined at our house in Paris. Talk of our enormouswealth, and all that, and to-morrow invite me for a run on the car."
"Very well--Princess," I laughed. "But what's the new scheme--eh?"
"At present nothing has been definitely settled. I expect Bindo in a fewdays, but he will appear to us as a stranger--a complete stranger. Atpresent all I wish to do is to create a sensation--you understand? Aforeign princess is always popular at once, and I believe my arrival isalready known all over the hotel. But it is you who will help me,M'sieur Ewart. You are the wealthy Englishman who is here with hismotor-car, and who is one of my intimate friends--you understand?"
"Well," I said, with some hesitation. "Don't you think all this kind ofthing very risky? Candidly, I expect before very long we shall all findourselves under arrest."
She laughed heartily at my fears.
"But, in any case, you would not suffer. You are simply Ewart, theCount's chauffeur."
"I know. But at this moment I'm posing here as the owner of the car, andliving upon part of the proceeds of that little transaction in the trainbetween Brussels and the German frontier."
"Ah, _mon cher_! never recall the past. It is such a very bad habit.Live for the future, and let the past take care of itself. Just remainperfectly confident that you run no risk in this present affair."
"What's your maid's name?"
"Rosalie Barlet."
"And she knows nothing?"
"Absolutely nothing."
I watched the neat-waisted figure in black walking a little distanceahead of us. She was typically Parisienne, with Louis XV. shoes, and aglimpse of smart _lingerie_ as she lifted her skirt daintily. Rathergood-looking she was, too, but with a face as bony as most of the womenof Paris, and a complexion slightly sallow.
By this time we had arrived at the entrance to the baths, where, on theasphalte promenade, built out into the clear crystal Mediterranean, allsmart Leghorn was sitting in chairs, and gossiping beneath the awnings,as Italians love to do.
Pancaldi's is essentially Italian. English, French, or German visitorsare rarely if ever seen, therefore the advent of the Princess, news ofwhose arrival had spread from mouth to mouth but an hour ago, caused aperceptible flutter among the lounging idlers of both sexes.
My companion was, I saw, admired on every hand, while surprise was beingexpressed that I should turn out to be a friend of so very distinguisheda person.
In the brilliant sundown, with just a refreshing breath of air comingacross the glassy sea, we sat watching the antics of the swimmers andthe general merriment in the water. I lit a cigarette and gossiped withher in French, ostentatiously emphasising the words "your Highness" whenI addressed her, for the benefit of those passing and re-passing behindus.
For an hour she remained, and then returning to the hotel, dressed, anddined.
As she sat with me at table that night in the handsome restaurant, shelooked superb, in pale turquoise chiffon, with a single row of diamondsaround her throat. Paste they were, of course, but none of the women whosat with their eyes upon her even dreamed that they were anything butthe family jewels of the princely house of Dornbach-Laxenburg. Hermanner and bearing were distinctly that of a patrician, and I saw thatall in the hotel were dying to know her.
Yes, Her Highness was already a great success.
About ten o'clock she put on a wrap, and, as is usual with the guests atthe Palace, at Leghorn, we went for a brief stroll along the promenade.
As soon as we were entirely alone she said--
"To-morrow you will take me for a run on the car, and the next day youwill introduce me to one or two of the best people. I will discover whoare the proper persons for me to know. I shall say that you are GeorgeEwart, eldest son of a Member of the English Parliament, and well knownin London--eh?"
As we were walking in the shadow, through the small leafy public gardenlying between the roadway and the sea, we suddenly encountered thefigure of a young woman who, in passing, saluted my companion with deeprespect. It was Rosalie.
"She's wandering here alone, and watching for me to re-enter the hotel,"remarked Valentine. "But she need not follow me like this, I think."<
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"No," I said. "Somehow, I don't like that girl."
"Why not? She's all right. What more natural than that she should be onthe spot to receive me when I come in?"
"But you don't want to be spied upon like this, surely!" I saidresentfully. "Have you done anything to arouse her suspicions that youare not--well, not exactly what you pretend yourself to be?"
"Nothing whatever; I have been a model of discretion. She never went tothe Avenue Kleber. I was staying for two nights at the Grand--under mypresent title--and after engaging her I told her that the house in theAvenue des Champs Elysees was in the hands of decorators."
"Well, I don't half like her following us. She may have overheardsomething of what we've just been saying--who knows?"
"Rubbish! Ah! _mon cher ami_, you are always scenting danger where thereis none."
I merely shrugged my shoulders, but my opinion remained. There wassomething mysterious about Rosalie--what it was I could not make out.
At ten o'clock next morning Her Highness met me in the big marble hallof the hotel dressed in the smartest motor-clothes, with a silkdust-coat and the latest invention in veils--pale blue with long endstwisted several times around her throat. Even in that costume she lookeddainty and extremely charming.
I, too, was altered in a manner that certainly disguised my truecalling; and when I brought the car round to the front steps, quite acrowd of visitors gathered to see her climb to the seat beside me, wrapthe rug around her skirts, and start away.
With a deep blast on the electric horn I swept out of the hotel groundsto the left, and a few moments later we were heading away along thebroad sea-road through the pretty villages of Ardenza and Antignano, outinto that wild open country that lies between Leghorn and the widedeadly marshes of the fever-stricken Maremma. The road we weretravelling was the old road to Rome, for two hundred miles along it--adesolate, dreary, and uninhabited way--lay the Eternal City. Over thatself-same road on the top of the brown rocks the conquering Romanlegions marched to Gaul, and war-chariots once ran where now spedmotor-cars. Out there in those great solitudes through which we werepassing nothing has changed since the days of Nero and of the Caesars.
Twenty-five miles into the country we ran, and then pulled up to smokeand chat. She was fond of a cigarette, and joined me, laughing merrilyat the manner in which we were so completely deceiving the gay world ofLeghorn. The local papers that morning had announced that Her Highnessthe Princess Helen of Dornbach-Laxenburg, one of the most beautifulwomen in Europe, had "descended" at the Palace Hotel, and had been seenat Pancaldi's later in the afternoon.
"As soon as I came down this morning I was pounced upon forinformation," I explained. "A young Italian marquis, who has hithertosnubbed me, begged that I would tell him something concerning HerHighness. He is deeply smitten with your beauty, that's very evident," Ilaughed.
"My beauty! You are really incorrigible, M'sieur Ewart," she answeredreprovingly, as she blew the tobacco-smoke from her lips. "And what,pray, is the name of this admirer?"
"The Marquis of Rapallo--the usual hard-up but well-dressed elegant, youknow. He wears two fresh suits of white linen a day, with socks to matchhis ties. Last night he sat at the table next to us, and couldn't keephis eyes off you--a rather short fellow, with a little black moustacheturned upwards."
"Ah yes, I recollect," she replied, and then I thought that hercountenance changed. "And so he's been inquiring about me? Well, let'srun back to _dejeuner_--or _collazione_, as they call it here in Italy,I believe."
An hour later we drew up again at the hotel, and Her Highnessdisappeared within. Then, after I had taken the car to the garage in therear, and entered the hotel myself, I quickly became surrounded bypeople who wanted introductions to my charming acquaintance, and to whomI romanced about her wealth, her position, and her home surroundings.
On the following day, Valentine allowed me to introduce her to fourpersons--an Italian marchioness who moved in the most exclusive Romanset, the wife of a Sicilian duke, the wife of Jacobi, the wealthy Jewbanker of Turin, and a Captain of Bersaglieri.
One night a lonely but well-dressed stranger entered the restaurant andseated himself in a corner almost unnoticed, save by Valentine andmyself. The new-comer was the audacious Bindo, passing as Mr.Bellingham, an Englishman, but he gave us no sign of recognition.Indeed, the days went on, but he never approached either of us. Hesimply idled about the hotel, or across at Pancaldi's, having picked upone or two acquaintances, kindred spirits in the art of graceful idling.He never even wrote me a note.
Some deep game was in progress, but its nature I was entirely unable togather.
Now, truth to tell, I experienced a growing uneasiness concerningRosalie. To me she was always the modest maid devoted to Her Highness,and yet I thought I once detected a glance of mischief in her dark eyes.Determined to discover all I could, I at once commenced a violentflirtation with her, unknown, of course, to Valentine.
Mademoiselle seemed flattered by the attentions of one whom she believedto be an English gentleman. Therefore I met her out one evening and tookher for a long walk, pretending to be deeply smitten by her charms. Fromthe first moment I began to talk with her I saw that she was not theshallow giddy girl I had believed her to be. She, no doubt, appreciatedmy attentions, for I took her to a cafe on the opposite side of thetown, where we should not be recognised, and there we sat a long timechatting. She seemed extremely curious to know who I really was, yet thequeries she put to me were just a trifle blundering. They betrayed anearnest desire to know more than I intended that she should know.
"I wish Her Highness would go back to Aix-les-Bains, or to Vichy, or toLuchon. I'm tired of this wretched hole, where I know nobody," shecomplained presently. "I had quite sufficient of Italy when I was withthe Duchess of Pandolfini. I did not know we were coming here, otherwiseI should not have accepted the engagement, and yet--well, the Princessis very kind and considerate."
"She certainly is to her friends, and I hope the same to her servants,"I said; and then we rose to walk back, for it was nearly eleven, and HerHighness, who had gone to the Opera with two of the ladies to whom I hadintroduced her, would soon be due back, and the dainty Rosalie must bethere to receive her.
Upon our walk across the town I flattered her, pretending to be herdevoted admirer, but when I left her I felt more convinced than everupon three points--namely, that she was much older than twenty-two, asshe had declared; that she was unduly inquisitive; and that shecertainly was no fool.
That night I sent my master a note to his room warning him to be wary ofher, and on the following morning I told Her Highness my suspicions.
From that moment I made it my object in life to keep a watchful eye uponthe new French maid. Each evening, after her services were no longerrequired, she went forth alone and wandered idly up and down theesplanade. Sometimes she walked out to Ardenza, a village a mile and ahalf distant, halted always at the same stone seat in the little publicgarden, and then strolled back again, in blissful ignorance of being soclosely watched.
If Rosalie had any suspicion that Valentine was not the Princess Helen,then there was, I foresaw, a grave and constant danger. And I, for one,did not intend to run any further risk.
Her Highness had been in Leghorn just over three weeks, and had becomeintensely popular everywhere, being invited to the houses of many of theprincipal residents, when one night an incident occurred which affordedme grave food for reflection.
Just after ten o'clock at night I had followed Rosalie along by the seato Ardenza, where she was sitting alone upon her usual seat in asecluded spot, at the edge of the public garden, on a kind of smallpromontory that ran in a semicircle out to the sea. Behind her was adark thicket of azaleas, and in front the calm moonlit Mediterranean.
I was standing back in the shadow at a spot where I had often stoodbefore, when, after about five minutes, I saw the tall dark figure of aman in a grey deer-stalker hat join her, and sit down unceremoniously ather side.
As soon as they met she began to tell him some long story, to which thestranger listened without comment. Then he seemed to question herclosely, and they remained together fully a quarter of an hour, until atlast they rose and parted, she walking calmly back to the hotel.
Was it possible that the dainty Rosalie was a spy?
When I got half-way back to the Palace I regretted deeply that I had notfollowed the stranger and ascertained whom he might be. Next day I toldValentine, but she merely smiled, saying that Rosalie could knownothing, and the fellow was probably some secret lover. The next night,and the next, I watched, until, on the third evening, they met again atthe same time and place, and on that occasion I followed the mysteriousstranger. He was a thin, cadaverous-looking Frenchman, hollow-cheeked,rather shabbily dressed, and wore _pince-nez_. I watched him back intothe town, and lingered near him in a cafe until nearly one o'clock, whenhe entered his quarters at an uninviting, unfashionable hotel, the"Falcon," in the Via Vittorio. From the manner he had treated her Ijudged him to be a relation, probably her uncle. Yet why she should meethim clandestinely was an utter mystery.
In order still to keep watch upon the maid I made a fervent protest ofaffection, and frequently met her between the dinner-hour and midnight.Through all this time, however, Bindo never gave a sign, even in secret,that he was acquainted with Valentine or myself, and this very fact initself aroused my suspicions that he knew our movements were beingclosely watched.
Meanwhile, Princess Helen, who had become the most popular figure inLeghorn, and had given her patronage to several functions in the causeof charity, went out a great deal, and I accompanied her very frequentlyto the best houses.
"Poor Bindo is having a pretty quiet time, I fear," she laughed to meone day in her easy, irresponsible way. "He is lying low."
"Waiting for the _coup_--eh?"
She smiled, but would, even then, tell me nothing.
Among the most devoted of her admirers was the Jew banker of Turin,Jacobi, and his wife, a stout, vulgar, over-dressed person, who wasconstantly dancing attendance upon her "dear Princess," as she calledher. Valentine rather liked her, or pretended to, for on severaloccasions she lent her Rosalie to dress her hair. Jacobi himself was, itseemed, on friendly terms with Bindo. Sometimes I saw the pair strollingtogether at Pancaldi's, and once the young Marquis of Rapallo was withthem.
One hot, stifling night, a brilliant ball was held, arranged at thePrincess's instigation, in the cause of charity. All the smart worldattended, and dancing was almost at an end when Bindo met me alone outupon one of the balconies.
"Go, and change at once," he whispered. "Take the car out of the townbeyond the railway station, a little way on the Pisa road. There wait,but attract no attention." And the next instant he had re-entered theballroom and was making his most elegant bow over a lady's hand.
Wondering what was the nature of the _coup_, I presently slipped away tomy room, but as I walked along the corridor I felt almost certain that Isaw Rosalie's black skirts flouncing round the corner. It was as thoughI had discovered her on the wrong floor, and that she had tried toescape me. The movements of that girl were so constantly suspicious.
I threw off my evening clothes, and putting on a rough suit, anovercoat, and motor-cap, went down the back staircase and along to thegarage, where, amid the coming and going of the cars of departingguests, I was able to run out without being noticed.
Ten minutes later I was outside the town, and drawing up in the darklonely road that leads across the plain for fifteen miles to quaint oldPisa, I got down and examined my tyres, pretending I had a punctureshould anyone become too inquisitive. Glancing at my watch, I found itwas already twenty minutes to two. The moon was overcast, and theatmosphere stifling and oppressive, precursory of a thunderstorm.
Each minute seemed an hour. Indeed, I grew so nervous that I felt halfinclined to escape upon the car. Yet if I left that spot I might leavemy audacious friend in the lurch, and in peril of arrest most likely.
It was close upon half-past two, as nearly as I could judge, when Iheard a quick footstep in the road. I took off one of the acetylenehead-lamps of the car and turned it in that direction, in order toascertain who was coming along.
A woman in a dark stuff dress, and wearing a veil, approached quickly. Amoment later, to my mingled surprise and dismay, I saw it was none otherthan the dainty Rosalie herself, in a very admirable disguise, whichgave her an appearance of being double her age.
"Ah! monsieur!" she gasped, quite out of breath from walking so rapidly."Drive me at once to Pisa. Don't lose a single instant. The Parisexpress passes at four minutes past three, and I must catch it. The lasttrain left here three hours ago."
"You--alone?"
"Yes. I go alone."
"But--well, let us speak quite frankly. Is no one else coming?" Iinquired.
"_Non, m'sieur._ You will take me to Pisa at once, please," she saidimpatiently.
So perforce I had to mount into the car, and when she had settledherself beside me, I drew off upon the dark and execrable road to thecity she had indicated, in order to catch the Rome-Paris express.
Was it all a trap? I wondered. What had occurred? I dared not ask heranything, while she, on her part, preserved an absolute silence. Heronly fear seemed lest she lost her train. That something had occurredwas very evident, but of its nature I still remained in entireignorance, even when, a short distance from the great echoing station, Idropped the _chic_ little maid with whom I had for the past three weekspretended to be so violently in love.
On getting down she told me to await her. She would be only a fewminutes. This surprised me, as I thought she was leaving for Paris.
She hurried away, and as I watched her going down the road towards thestation I saw the dark figure of a man emerge from the shadow and joinher. For a moment he became silhouetted against the station lights, andI recognised that it was her mysterious friend.
Five minutes later she rejoined me. Then, on turning back, I was forcedto remain at the level crossing until the Paris express, with its long_wagon-lit_, had roared past, and afterwards I put on a move, and wewere soon back in Leghorn. She did not return to the hotel with me, butat her request I dropped her just before we entered the town.
Morning revealed the startling truth. Three women, occupying adjacentrooms, had lost the greater part of their valuable jewels which theyhad had sent from home on purpose to wear at the ball. The policewere ferreting about the hotel, questioning everybody. There wascommotion everywhere, and loud among those expressing amazement at theaudaciousness of the thief were both Bindo and Her Highness, the latterdeclaring herself lucky that no attempt had been made to secure any ofher own valuable jewels.
At noon I took her for a run on the car, in order to have an opportunityto chat. When we were alone on the road she said--
"You entertained a foolish but quite reasonable suspicion of Rosalie.She and Kampf, the man you saw her with, always work together. Theyindeed suggested this present little affair, for they knew that Italianwomen bring lots of jewellery here, in order to show it off. Besides,hotels are their speciality. So there seemed to Bindo no reason why weshould not have a little of the best of it. The diamond necklace of theSignora Jacobi is well known to be one of the finest in all Italy;therefore, on several occasions, I lent her Rosalie for hair-dressing,and she, clever girl, very soon discovered where all the best of thestuff was kept. Bindo, in the meantime, was keeping his keen eye open inother quarters. Last night, when the Jewess went up to her room, shefound her own maid had gone to bed very unwell, and the faithful Rosaliehad, at my orders, taken her place. 'How kind it was of the dearPrincess!' she said. When Rosalie left the room she carried with her thenecklace, together with several other trifles which she had pretended tolock in the jewel-case. Ten minutes later Bindo also slipped into herhands all that he had obtained in a swift raid in two other rooms duringthe dance, and she left the hotel carrying away gems worth roughly, webelieve, about sixteen thousand pounds ste
rling. Kampf was awaiting herin Pisa, and by this time is already well on his way to the frontier atModane, with the precious packet in his pocket."
"And there is really no suspicion of us?" I asked apprehensively.
"Certainly not. Not a soul knows that Rosalie left the hotel last night.She re-entered by a window Bindo left open."
"But the garage people know that I was out," I said.
"Well, and what of that? You have had no hand in it, have you, _moncher_? No. We shall remain here another week. It is quite pleasanthere--and quite safe. To leave might arouse suspicion."
"Have not the police questioned Rosalie?"
"Certainly. But they have no suspicion of the maid of Princess Helen ofDornbach-Laxenburg. How could they? Especially as the Prefect and hiswife were my guests at dinner last night!"
"Well," I declared, "the way the whole affair has been managed isperfectly artistic."
"Of course," she said. "We do not blunder. Only poor people and fools dothat."