quickly."Petrovitch? No!" he almost snapped.
"He has been living in England quite recently, but of late--well, oflate I've lost sight of him. I know," he went on, "that you and he hadsome little difference of opinion upon the Customs war with Austria."
"Yes, we did," remarked the grey-bearded old gentleman, with a smile."We differed upon one point. Afterwards, however, I found that my ideaswere unsound, and I admitted it in the Skuptchina. I heard thatPetrovitch was in London. The King invited him to come to Belgradeabout six months ago, as he wished to consult him in private, but hedeclined the invitation."
"Why?"
"I think he feared on account of a political conspiracy which is knownto have been formed against him. As you know, the Opposition are hisbitter opponents."
"And they are opponents of his Majesty also," Rolfe remarked.
"Exactly--a fact which for the peace of Servia is most unfortunate."
"Then you have no idea where I could find the Doctor?"
"Not the least. But--" and he paused, thinking for a moment.
"Well?"
"If I remember aright my wife told me that she had met his daughter Maudat dinner at the British Legation one night recently."
"Then she's here--in Belgrade!" Rolfe cried.
"I'm not quite certain. I did not pay much attention to what she toldme. I was preoccupied with other things. But I will ask her, and letyou know. Or you might ask the wife of the British Minister. You knowher, of course?"
"Yes," Rolfe answered, excitedly. "I will call upon her this afternoon.I'm sure I'm very much indebted to your Excellency for thisinformation."
And his spirits rose again at the thought that his sweet-facedwell-beloved was safe and well, and that, in all probability, she wasactually in that city.
CHAPTER FORTY.
GIVES A CLUE.
That afternoon, at as early an hour as he decently could, he called atthe British Legation, the big white mansion in the centre of the town.Both Sir Charles Harrison, the Minister, and his charming wife werewell-known to him, for more than once he had been invited to dine onprevious visits to Belgrade.
The Minister was out, but Lady Harrison received him in the bigdrawing-room on the first floor, a handsome apartment filled withexquisite Japanese furniture and bric-a-brac, for, prior to hisappointment to Belgrade, the Minister had been Secretary of the BritishEmbassy in Tokio.
The first greetings over, Charlie explained the object of his call.Whereupon the Minister's wife replied:
"I think Mr Pashitch is mistaken, Mr Rolfe. I haven't seen MaudPetrovitch for quite a year. She was on a visit to her aunt, MadameConstantinovitch, about a year ago, and used to come here very often."
Charlie's hopes fell again.
"Perhaps the Minister-President has made a mistake. It may have been atsome other house Madame Pashitch met the Doctor's daughter," he said.
"Well, if she were in Belgrade she surely would come to see me. All herfriends come to me on Thursdays, as you know," replied the Minister'swife, as the man brought in tea--with lemon--in the Russian style.
He glanced around the handsome room, and recollected the brilliantreceptions at which he had been present. The British Legation was oneof the finest mansions in Belgrade, and Sir Charles gave weekly dinnersto the diplomatic corps and his personal friends. He and his wifeentertained largely, to keep up the prestige of Great Britain amid thatseething area of intrigue, political conspiracy, and general unrest.
Within a small room off the drawing-room, which was Sir Charles' privateden, many a diplomatic secret had been brewed, and many an importantmatter affecting the best interests of Servia had been decided. Surelythe post of Belgrade was one of the most difficult in the whole range ofBritish diplomacy abroad.
Before Charlie rose to go Sir Charles entered, a middle-aged, merry,easy-going man, who greeted him cheerily, saying:--
"Hullo, Rolfe! Who'd have thought of seeing you here? and how is MrStatham? When will he buy us all up to-day?"
Rolfe briefly explained the nature of his mission to the ex-President,and then, after a few minutes' chat, followed his host into the smallerroom for a cigarette and chat. Eventually Rolfe, lying back in aneasy-chair, said: "Do you know, Sir Charles, a very curious thing hashappened recently in London?"
"Oh, I see by the papers that lots of curious things have happened," wasthe diplomat's reply, as he smiled upon his guest.
"Oh, yes; I know. But this is a serious matter. Doctor Petrovitch andhis daughter Maud have disappeared."
Sir Charles raised his eyebrows, and was in a moment serious.
"Disappeared! There's been nothing about it in the papers."
"No; it is being kept dark. The police haven't been stirred about it.It was only a sudden removal from Cromwell Road, but both father,daughter, and household furniture disappeared."
"How? In what manner did the furniture disappear?"
Rolfe explained, while Sir Charles sat listening open-mouthed.
"Extraordinary!" he ejaculated, when the younger man concluded. "Whatcan be the reason of it. Petrovitch is an old and dear friend of mine.Why, I knew him years ago when I was attache here. He often wrote tome. The last letter I had was from London about four months ago."
"And he's my friend also."
"Yes; I know," was the other's reply. "It was whispered, Rolfe, thatyou were in love with the pretty Maud--eh?"
"I don't deny it?"
"Why should you, if you love her."
"But she's disappeared--without a word."
"And you are in search of her? Most natural. Well, I'll make inquiriesand ascertain if she's been in Belgrade. I don't believe she has, or weshould certainly have seen something of her. My wife is very fond ofher, you know."
"I fear there's been foul play?" Rolfe remarked.
The Minister shrugged his shoulders.
"It's curious, to say the least, isn't it?" he observed. There, inconfidence, Charlie told the Minister of Marion's friendship with Maud,of the strange and mysterious confession on the night of thedisappearance, and her steadfast refusal to betray the girl's secret.
Sir Charles paused and reflected.
"Political intrigue is at the bottom of this--depend upon it, Rolfe," hesaid at last. "Petrovitch has enemies here, unscrupulous enemies, whowould not hesitate to attempt his life. They fear that if he returns topower as the King had invited him, they will find themselves prisonersin the fortress--and that means death, as you know. When the Doctoracts, he acts boldly for the benefit of his country. He would make aclean sweep of his enemies once and for all."
"Then you think they've anticipated this, and killed him in secret?"cried Rolfe.
"It is, I fear, quite possible," was the diplomat's reply.
"What causes you to believe this?"
"I possess secret knowledge."
"Of a plot against him?"
"He was fully aware of it himself. That is why he lived in England,"the Minister replied.
"But, surely, if he knew this, he might have taken steps for hisself-protection!" Rolfe exclaimed. "The fact that his furniture wasspirited away to some unknown place makes it almost appear as though hewas in accord with the conspirators."
"No; I think not. The conspirators removed his furniture in order toprevent undue inquiries as to the Doctor's disappearance. The emptyingof the house may have been one to make it appear to the police that theDoctor had suddenly removed--perhaps to avoid his creditors."
Rolfe shook his head. His opinion hardly coincided with that of theBritish diplomat. Besides, Max Barclay's story of having seen a manthere closely resembling him wanted explanation. With what motive hadan unknown man represented him on the night in question?
"Maud Petrovitch has never written to you?" asked Harrison.
"Not a line."
The Minister pursed his lips.
"Well," he said, "I'm perfectly sure if she's been in Belgrade she wouldcertainly have come to see us.
My wife used to have frequent lettersfrom her in London."
"I have not told Lady Harrison the reason of my inquiry--or any of thefacts," Rolfe said. "I thought I would leave it to you to tell her ifyou think proper. Up to the present, the Doctor's disappearance hasbeen kept secret between my friend Max Barclay, who was the Doctor'smost intimate chum in London, and myself."
"At present I shall not tell my wife," declared the diplomat. He was aman of secrets, and knew how to keep one. "Who is Max Barclay?" askedthe Minister, after a pause. Rolfe explained, but said