Her Royal Highness: A Romance of the Chancelleries of Europe

by William Le Queux

werestolen! He must have neglected his duty in some way--without a shadowof a doubt."

  "Yes," replied his secretary, "I quite agree with Your Excellency thatif he were continuously on duty, as he alleges that he was, then he musthave seen the thief."

  "Probably bribed to remain silent," His Excellency grunted suspiciously.

  Waldron uttered no word. He watched the General's face keenly and kepthis own counsel.

  "The affair is a complete mystery," remarked Lambarini, who had spokenbut little. "I, too, incline towards the opinion that the man, Tonini,knows the identity of the thief, but will not speak."

  "If I have him arrested then we might get him to open his lips," HisExcellency exclaimed. Waldron at once said:

  "No. His arrest would betray the secret of Your Excellency's loss.Besides, such an injudicious action would place a very serious obstaclein the channel of my present inquiries."

  "Then you are against his arrest. Why?"

  "Because that man has told me the truth."

  The three high officials stared at the Englishman in surprise.

  "Yes," Waldron went on boldly, "I do not believe the man knows anythingmore than what he has already stated."

  "But what has he told you?" inquired Pironti, whose attitude showed thathe was full of resentment that a foreigner should be employed by HisMajesty to investigate the scandal.

  "That, signore, is my own affair," was Waldron's cool reply as he rosefrom his chair.

  "Pironti, have the corporal placed under arrest, and see that nobodyspeaks with him," His Excellency ordered, a trifle pale with suppressedanger at Hubert's words.

  The latter, however, turned towards the Minister and said in a hardvoice:

  "I wish Your Excellency to remember that His Majesty the King has vestedme with full powers on his behalf--as you will see by this decree," andhe drew a letter from his pocket. "Corporal Tonini is not to bearrested, nor is he to be threatened--or even approached. This inquiryis now in my hands, General Cataldi, not in yours. Please recollectthat this is His Majesty's orders, and that I am the King's agent inthis matter. Good morning." And he turned and left the trio staring ateach other in silence.

  As he turned the corner under the high walls of the Palazzo Albani andwalked up the narrow Via Quattro Fontane in the direction of his roomsin the Via Nazionale, he felt convinced that by His Excellency's mannerhe had some knowledge of that package of documents.

  Back in his own sitting-room he threw himself into a chair before theEnglish coal fire--a luxury in Rome--lit his old briar pipe, andcomposed himself to reflect.

  Ghelardi was one of the most renowned spies in Europe and would, withouta doubt, know every secret agent of Austria who had recently been or wasin Rome at that moment. Should he consult him? That was a verydifficult problem, for from the outset he knew the old man would beantagonistic and would feel that the Englishman was usurping hisposition and power.

  The Italian police official is remarkable for his cunning shrewdness andresourcefulness. In the Secret Police of Italy are men of remarkable,even astounding, tact and ability as investigators of crime. Even theordinary plain-clothes policeman in Italy is, as a rule, a much moreastute officer than those of the same grade in London, Paris, or Berlin.Indeed the Italian with his suave politeness, his natural shrewdness,his keen intelligence, and his suspicious nature makes a most excellentdetective, and many of the cleverest officers of the Paris Surete andthe detective departments of Berlin and New York have graduated throughthe Secret Police of Italy.

  Old Ghelardi had all his life been brought up in that school, risingfrom an obscure clerk in the Questura in Naples to be a plain-clothesofficer, and such distinction did he win in the capture of criminalsthat he quickly obtained promotion to Rome. As a young man it was hewho, single-handed, captured the renowned Calabrian bandit, Bodrero, thefiend who at his trial boasted of having tortured and killed with hisown hand over one hundred men, women, and children.

  The anarchists, Palmera and Spineti, of Forli, he captured red-handedwith their bombs, which they were about to throw at the carriage of theKing's father, and again, after a whole year's diligent work, he had atlast laid hands upon the two _souteneurs_, Civardi and Tedesco who, asprobably will be remembered, murdered the young and pretty CountessRinaldi in the Palazzo Rinaldi in Cremona and stole her jewels.

  None could deny that Ghelardi was a very remarkable man. The GermanGovernment knew that, or they would not have seduced him from his officein Italy and given him the position of Chief of the Secret Service. AGerman appointment such as that is not given to a foreigner withoutconsiderable merit.

  In a sense, Hubert admired him for his tact, courage, and untiringenergy, and now, as he sat smoking and reflecting he remembered how, inhis ignorance, he had up the Nile met the greatest secret agent of thepresent century and believed him to be a prosperous and ratherantagonistic Frenchman!

  It showed Ghelardi's resourcefulness, for Waldron, keen, shrewd,cosmopolitan man of the world that he was, was not a person easily takenin.

  Time was pressing. From one hour to another the Ministry of ForeignAffairs might receive a cipher dispatch from Vienna indicating that theobjectionable documents had passed into the hands of the War Departmentthere.

  He knew quite well that His Majesty--who had that morning gone to thegreat review, a brilliant figure in uniform and sparkling decorations--had ridden there and was standing at the saluting point with a quicklybeating heart. Peril, a grave and imminent peril, existed for thenation, for Austria, who for so long had desired some excuse for pickinga quarrel with her neighbour, was now in a position to declare immediatewar.

  And with the great armies of Austria-Hungary against her, poor Italymust be ground beneath the iron heel of the invaders!

  To-day it is the fashion for the public, gulled by the Press, to talkglibly of the Triple Entente and the Triple Alliance. The Man in theStreet, be he in Plymouth or in Petersburg, Margate or Madrid, Rochesteror Rome, believes that treaties duly translated and made in duplicate ortriplicate, signed by the Sovereign, sealed with the Great Seal, anddelivered with all the pomp and ceremony which diplomacy demands, are asafeguard against war. But your modern diplomat smiles, for he knowsthey are not.

  Truly the situation in Europe would be comic, if it were not so terriblytragic--also if it were not so full of the smell of the lyddite shell.Yet the beguiled Man in the Street is content to read and believe hishalfpenny newspaper--to feed upon the daily diet which the unscrupulousjournalists, bent upon money-making, provide for him, and actually givecredit to the daily "story," as it is termed in newspaper parlance, asthe real gospel truth.

  Ten times within our present twentieth century has Europe been upon theverge of a great and bloody war. Orders have been given to mobilise,and armies have stood ready to come to grips. Yet only the Embassieshave known, and there, most happily, secrets can be kept, even in theseget-rich-quick days of bribery and dishonesty.

  Europe has slept in her bed in calm, blissful ignorance that at any hourthe terrible weapons of modern warfare might provide a cruel awakening,or perhaps a long and fatal sleep!

  Such were the thoughts which floated through Hubert's mind as Peterscame in one morning after five days of uncertainty and vain inquiry, andplaced the letters at his master's elbow.

  Among them was one bearing a Spanish stamp--a long and regretful letterfrom Beatriz.

  He read it through twice, and then tore it into little fragments andcast it upon the fire with a brief sigh.

  The telephone bell rang, and he rose and answered it.

  A girl's voice spoke. It was the Princess Luisa.

  "I say, Signor Waldron," she exclaimed in English, when he had told herthat it was he who spoke, "the appointment is all right. To-night ateight-thirty--eh? I want to see you most urgently."

  "I shall be there," he replied. He did not address her as "Highness,"as he feared lest the telephone girl should be curious.

  "_Benissimo. Addio_!" w
as her reply, and then she rang off.

  Again he threw himself into his chair, his brow dark and thoughtful.The appointment they had made when she had visited him she had beenunable to keep, as she had had to accompany the Queen to Naples; and shehad only just returned, she explained.

  How strange was it all. If by good chance he were successful in hisinquiries he might, after all, save Italy and her Sovereign.

  But could he? Was the dastardly conspiracy too clever and wellsustained? Ay, that was the question.

  Those very men--those Ministers who depended upon the King's goodgraces, and would lick His Majesty's boots, were the same men who werenow betraying him and the country into the hands of their hereditaryenemy. And for gold--always for gold--that most necessary commodityupon which the devil has for ever set his curse.

  That afternoon he spent at the