A Cabinet Secret Part 13

"DISAPPEARANCE OF THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF!

DISAPPEARANCE OF THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF!"

That evening a new sensation was added to the already long list when it was known that the notorious anarchist, Luigi Ferreira, had managed to escape from prison some days before, and was supposed to have crossed the Channel and to be in London. Had I only known then that he was the man I had seen talking so excitedly to the Countess in the Park, a few mornings before, and that at that very moment he was occupying a room at Wiltshire House, as a supposed invalid, how speedily might retribution have descended upon him.

Unfortunately, however, I did not know!

CHAPTER VII

The state of mind into which England was plunged by the news of the disappearance of the Commander-in-Chief cannot be fittingly described by a pen so weak as mine. It was not that we had lost anything of our former courage, or that we had resigned all hope of coming out victors in the struggle. We were as resolved as ever to carry this war through to the bitter end, yet the news clanged like a death knell upon a thousand hearts. Of my own feelings I will not speak. That expressed by the nation voices my own. I was sad, how sad few can guess, but despite my sorrow I declared that the war must go on--that the end should be reached. And now to turn to a brighter subject.

On the Tuesday before the day I was due to dine at Wiltshire House, I had the good fortune to receive a visit from an old friend. He was none other than the Duke of Rotherhithe, the gentleman who had been obliging enough to convey the Countess de Venetza and her father from Constantinople to Naples on a certain memorable occasion, and who was known to entertain a great admiration for her. Having had a somewhat busy morning, I did not reach home until after two o'clock. I had scarcely sat down to lunch, before Thompson, my butler, informed me that the Duke of Rotherhithe was anxious to see me.

"My dear fellow, this is friendly of you," I said, as we shook hands a few moments later. "You are just in time for lunch. I have only this minute commenced."

"You couldn't offer me anything better," he replied. "I have eaten nothing all the morning. By Jove! how good it is to see your face again, old man, and what a swell you have become, to be sure, since I saw you last--Cabinet Minister, and I don't know what else besides. You'll be Premier before you've done."

"Not quite so high as that," I answered. "I have my ambitions, I will admit, but I am afraid that the Premiership is scarcely the one that will be likely to be realised."

One thing was quite certain: Rotherhithe was in the most excellent spirits. His honest, manly face was wreathed in smiles, and had an artist been present he might have used it for the personification of Happiness. Throughout the meal he laughed and joked continually, recalled old days, old escapades, long since forgotten on my side, and vowed that we were both of us growing younger instead of older. That there was something unusual about it all I could plainly see, but what that something was I had not then the least idea. My suspicions, however, were aroused very soon.

"By the way," I said, when we had finished lunch, "let me tell you that I have lately had the pleasure to be of some service to an old friend of yours."

"An old friend of mine?" he said, with what I could not help thinking was pretended surprise. "Who is the friend?"

"The Countess de Venetza," I replied. "The lady whose wealth and beauty have made her such a prominent figure in London Society of late. She told me that she had been yachting with you in the Mediterranean, and spoke quite feelingly of your kindness to herself and her father. Do you mean to tell me that you don't recollect her?"

"Recollect her? of course I do," he said, still with the same sheepish look upon his face. "Oh yes, I remember her well enough. And so you've been kind to her, have you?"

Here he laughed in a foolish fashion to himself.

"Umph!" I said to myself, "surely he cannot have been idiotic enough to have----"

I stopped myself abruptly. I knew very well that I should hear all the news he had to tell quite soon enough.

At last Thompson and the men left the room, and an expression of great solemnity took possession of my friend's countenance. What was more, he drew his chair a little closer to mine.

"My dear old fellow," he said, laying his hand on my arm, "we have been friends many years. In point of fact I don't know of a man whose good wishes I should so thoroughly appreciate. By Jove, old fellow, I am the happiest being in the world! So happy, in fact, that I'm dashed if I know whether I am standing on my head or my heels!"

"Let me rea.s.sure you then," I said dryly. "You are standing on your heels at the present moment."

"Confound your silly jokes," he said angrily. "Any one but a Cabinet Minister would have seen that I was speaking metaphorically. Now I want to tell you that----"

"If you are going to be confidential," I replied, "let us adjourn to the smoking-room. I shall give you much better attention over a cigar, and you will doubtless prove more eloquent."

We accordingly adjourned to the room in question, where I produced a box of cigars, furnished the Duke with a light, and then, when we had seated ourselves, bade him commence his tale. I have often noticed that when a man who is anxious to be communicative is invited to begin his confidences, he finds that his stream of loquacity has dried up. It was so in Rotherhithe's case. He hummed and hawed, gazed very steadily at the ceiling for some seconds, and finally rose from his chair and began to pace the room.

"You may remember," he began in the tone of a man addressing a public meeting, "that you and several other of my friends have continually endeavoured to impress upon me that it is my bounden duty, not only to myself, but to the name I bear, to marry and settle down. You can't grumble, therefore, if I take you at your word."

"You couldn't do better," I said reflectively, examining the ash of my cigar as I spoke. "There is only one objection to the scheme so far as I can see."

"Objection?" he cried, firing up as usual. "What sort of objection can there be to such a thing?"

"It is just possible you may marry the wrong girl," I said quietly. "You must admit that _that_ would be a very decided one."

"I am not likely to be such an idiot," he returned. "What is more, I am not about to marry a girl."

I was becoming more and more convinced that my suspicions were correct.

"In that case, the objection is removed," I said. "And now let me offer you my heartiest congratulations. I sincerely hope you may be happy."

"But hang it all, you haven't asked me yet who the lady is! You might have done that."

"If I wanted to waste time I might very well have done it," I replied.

"There is no need, however, seeing that I already know who she is."

"The deuce you do! Then who is she?"

"The Countess de Venetza," I answered, shaking the ash of my cigar into the tray beside me. "I had my suspicions at lunch, and you afterwards confirmed them. I presume I am correct?"

"Quite correct," he said in a tone of relief. "And, by Jove, don't you think I am a lucky man? Isn't she simply beautiful?"

I offered no reply to the first question. On the second point, however, I was fortunate enough to be in a position to rea.s.sure him. Whatever else she might be, or might not be, the Countess was certainly very beautiful.

"I shall have her painted by Collier," he continued, "or another of those artist fellows. She will be in black velvet, holding the folds of a curtain in her hand, and I'll hang it in the gallery at the old place, with all the other family pictures round her. There'll not be another there to equal her."

In my own heart I wondered what those stately old ladies in frills and brocades would say to the new-comer. I did not mention the fact, however, to Rotherhithe. In his present condition he was ready to take offence at anything, at least where she was concerned.

"And when will the wedding take place?" I enquired. "And where?"

"I can't quite say," he replied; "there's such a lot to be settled first, you see. I want her to let it be in London, but, so far, she hasn't given me a definite answer."

"And her respected father? What has he to say upon the subject?"

"Oh, he's pleased enough. I had a telegram from him this morning.

Between ourselves, I think foreigners overdo it a bit, don't you?"

"They certainly express their feelings somewhat more warmly than we usually do," I said, as if in explanation of my own conduct; "but in this case one feels justified in launching out a little. Might I ask how long you have known the lady?"

I put the question listlessly, seeing that the chance of my learning a little of her past history was a poor one.

"Oh, I have known her a long time," he answered vaguely. "We were together in Cairo and Algiers, and other places. What a fellow you are, to be sure, to ask questions! Does it mean that you think----"

He stopped and glared at me, but I soothed him down.