Jessie could feel rather than see that the signal was flashing out again. She looked about her for some assistance. In the distance a man came from the direction of the house. In the semi-darkness he paused to light a cigarette, and the reflection of the match shone on his face. Jessie started, and her face flushed. It seemed as if the stars were fighting for her to-night. She recognized the dark, irregular features behind the glow of the match. She had made up her mind what to do. Surely the queen would understand that there was cause for delay, that some unforeseen danger threatened.
The man with the cigarette strolled close by the fountain. He had his hands behind him, and appeared to be plunged in thought. He would have passed the fountain altogether without seeing the two standing there, only Jessie called to him to stop in a clear gay voice.
"Have you lost anything, Captain Hope?" she asked. "Won't you come and tell us what it is?"
Jessie's voice was perfectly steady, but her heart was beating to suffocation now. For Vera's cousin, Captain Ronald Hope, was perfectly well known to her in her own private capacity as Jessie Harcourt. Hope had been a frequent visitor at her father's house in the old days, and Jessie had had her dreams.Had he not inspired Vera's daring scheme! Hope had not forgotten her, though she had elected to disappear and leave no sign, the girl knew full well; for had not Hope told Vera Galloway of the marvellous likeness between herself and Jessie Harcourt?
It was a critical moment. That Hope had cared for her Jessie well knew, though she sternly told her heart that it was not to be. Would he recognize her and penetrate her disguise? If the eyes of love are blind in some ways they make up for it in others. Jessie's heart seemed to stand still as Hope raised his crushed hat and came leisurely up the steps of the fountain.
"I was looking for my lost and wasted youth, Miss Galloway," he said. "How are you, Prince? What a night!"
"A night for lovers," Mazaroff said, though Jessie could see that he was terribly annoyed at the interruption of their conversation. "Reminds one of birds and nightingales and rose bowers. Positively, I think of the days when I used to send valentines and love tokens to my many sweethearts."
"And what does it remind you of, Captain Hope?" Jessie asked.
"Youalways remind me of my friend Jessie Harcourt," Hope said. "The more I see of you, the more I see the likeness."
"The little shop-girl in Bond Street," Mazaroff burst out. "I have met her. Ah, yes."
"We are waiting for Captain Hope to tell us what the evening reminds him of," Jessie said hurriedly.
"Certainly," Captain Hope said. "Afterwards I may want to ask Prince Mazaroff a question. This reminds me of a night three years ago—a night ina lovely lane, with the moon rising at the end of it. Of course, there was a man and a woman in the lane, and they talked of the future. They picked some flowers, so as to be in tune with the picture. They picked dog roses——"
"'Your heart and mine' played out with the petals," Jessie laughed. "Do you know the other form of blowing the seed from a dandelion, only you use rose petals instead?"
There was a swift change on the face of Captain Hope. His face paled under the healthy tan as he looked quickly at Jessie. Their eyes met just for a moment—there was a flash of understanding between them. Mazaroff saw nothing, for he was lighting a cigar by the lip of the fountain. Jessie broke into some nonsense, only it was quite uncertain if she knew what she was saying. She appealed to Mazaroff, and as she did so she knocked the cigar that he had laid on the edge of the fountain so that it rolled down the steps on to the grass.
"How excessively clumsy of me!" Jessie cried. "Let me get it back for you, Prince Boris."
With a smile Prince Mazaroff proceeded to regain his cigar. Quick as a flash Ronald Hope turned to Jessie.
"What is it you want?" he asked. "What am I to do to help you? Only say the word."
"Get rid of that man," Jessie panted. "I can't explain now. Only get rid of that man and see that he is kept out of the way for at least ten minutes. Then you can return to me if you like."
Hope nodded. He appeared to have grasped the situation. With some commonplace on his lips he passed leisurely towards the house. Before Mazaroff could take up the broken threads of thesubject a young man, who might have been in the diplomatic service, came hurrying to the spot.
"I have been looking everywhere for you, Prince Boris," he said. "Lord Merehaven would like to say a few words to you. I am very sorry to detain you, but this is a matter of importance."
Mazaroff's teeth flashed in a grin which was not a grin of pleasure. He had no suspicion that this had been all arranged in the brief moment that he was looking for his cigar, the thing seemed genuine and spontaneous. With one word to the effect that he would be back again in a moment, he followed the secretary.
Jessie had a little time to breathe at last. She looked round her eagerly, but the signal was not given again. Ought she not to fly up the steps of the corridor? the girl asked herself. As she looked up again at the now darkened window the light came up for a moment, and the figure of a man, recognizable as that of General Maxgregor, stood out in high relief. The head of the figure was shaken twice, and the light vanished again. Jessie could make nothing of it except that she was not to hurry. Whilst she was still waiting and wondering what to do, Captain Ronald Hope returned. His face was stern, but at the same time there was a tender light in his eyes that told Jessie not to fear.
"What is the meaning of it all?" he asked. "I never had such a surprise in my life. When you spoke about our old sweetheart pastime of your heart and mine played with the petals of the wild rose, I recognized you for Jessie Harcourt at once, because we invented that game, and the understanding was that we were never to tell anybodyelse. Oh, yes, I see that you are my dear little Jessie now."
The tender words thrilled Jessie. She spoke with an unsteady smile on her lips.
"But you did not recognize me till I gave you a clue," she said. "Are you very angry with me, Ronald?"
"I meant to be if ever I found you," Hope said. "I am going to be stern. I was going to ask you why you had——"
"Dear Ronald, you had no right to speak like that. Great friends as we used to be——"
"Oh, yes, I know what you are going to say. Great friends as we were, I had never told you that I loved you. But you knew it perfectly well, without any mere words of mine; your heart told you so. Though I have never kissed you—never so much as had my arm about your waist—we knew all the time. And I meant to wait till after my long stay in Ireland. Then your father died, and you were penniless, and you disappeared. My dearest girl, why did you not tell me?"
"Because you were poor, Ronald. Because I did not want to stand between you and your career. Ada and myself were as proud as we were penniless. And I thought that you would soon forget."
"Forget! Impossible to forget you, Jessie. I am not that kind of man. I came here frequently because I was trying to get a diplomatic appointment, through my friend General Maxgregor, in the Asturian service, where there is both trouble and danger and the chance of a future. And every time that I saw Vera Galloway my heart seemed to ache for the sight of you. I told her about you often. Now tell me, why did your pride break downso suddenly to-night? You might have passed for Vera had you not spoken about the roses."
"I had the most pressing need of your assistance," Jessie said hoarsely. "I did not want to disclose myself, but conscience called me imperatively. I dare say you are wondering why I am masquerading here as Miss Galloway, and where she is gone. I cannot tell you. She only found me out to-day, and implored me to come to her and take her place. My decision to do so was not free from sordid consideration. I have played my part with success till that scoundrel Mazaroff came along. At present I am in attendance on the Queen of Asturia, who is in one of the rooms overhead with General Maxgregor and a helpless paralytic creature who is no less than the King of Asturia. If you ask me about this mystery I cannot tell you. The whole thing was fixed up in a desperate hurry, and here I am. It was necessary to get Prince Mazaroff out of the way so that the queen could return without being seen. I should not be surprised to find that Mazaroff was no more than a vulgar Russian spy after all."
"I feel pretty well convinced of it," Hope said. "But how long is this to go on, Jessie?"
"Till Miss Galloway comes back dressed in the fashion of the Bond Street shop-girl. Then we shall change dresses, and I shall be free to depart."
Hope whispered something sweet, and the colour came to Jessie's cheeks. She was feeling resolute and brave enough now. As she turned and glanced at the upstairs window she saw the light spring up and the blind pulled aside. Then a man, stripped to his shirt and trousers, threw up the window and stood upon the parapet waving his arms wildly and gesticulating the while.A stifled cry came from Jessie's lips.If the man fell to the ground he would fall on the stone terrace and be killed on the spot.
"A stifled cry came from Jessie's lips.""A stifled cry came from Jessie's lips."
But he did not fall; somebody gripped him from behind, the window was shut, and the blind fell. There was darkness for a few seconds, and then the two flashes of the signal came once more, sharp and imperative.
Puzzled, vaguely alarmed, and nervous as she was, Jessie had been still more deeply thrilled could she have seen into the room from whence the signal came. She had escorted the Queen of Asturia there, and subsequently the man known as General Maxgregor, but why they came and why that secret meeting Jessie did not know.
In some vague way Jessie connected the mystery with the hapless creature whom she knew now to be the King of Asturia. Nor was she far wrong. In the dressing-room beyond the larger room where that strange interview was to take place, the hapless man lay on a bed. He might have been dead, so silent was he and so still his breathing. He lay there in his evening dress, but there was nothing about him to speak of his exalted rank. He wore no collar or star or any decoration; he might have been no more than a drunken waiter tossed contemptuously out of the way to lie in a sodden sleep till the effects of his potations passed.
The sleeper was small of size and mean of face, the weak lips hidden with a ragged red moustache; a thin crop of the same flame-coloured hair was on his head. In fine contrast stood the Queen of Asturia, regally beautiful, perfectly dressed and flashing with diamonds. There was every inch of a queen. But her face was bitter and hard, her dark eyes flashed.
"And to think that I am passing my life in peril, ruining my health and shattering my nerves for a creature likethat!" she whispered vehemently. "A cowardly, dishonest, drunken hog—a man who is prepared to sacrifice his crown for money to spend on wine and cards. Nay, the crown may be sold by this time for all I know."
The figure on the bed stirred just a little. With a look of intense loathing the queen bent down and laid her head on the sleeper's breast. It seemed to her that the heart was not moving.
"He must not die," she said passionately. "He must not die—yet. And yet, God help me, I should be the happier for his release. The weary struggle would be over, and I could sleep without the fear of his being murdered before my eyes. Oh, why does not Paul come!"
The words came as if in protest against the speaker's helplessness. Almost immediately there came a gentle tap at the door, and General Maxgregor entered. A low, fierce cry of delight came from the queen; she held out a pair of hands that trembled to the newcomer. There was a flush on her beautiful face now, a look of pleasure in the splendid eyes. She was more like a girl welcoming her lover than a queen awaiting the arrival of a servant.
"I began to be afraid, Paul," she said. "You are so very late, that I——"
Paul Maxgregor held the trembling hands in a strong grasp. There was something in his glance that caused the queen to lower her eyes and her face to flush hotly. It was not the first time that a soldier has aspired to share a throne. There was more than one tradition in the berserker Scotch family to bear out the truth of it. The Maxgregorsof Glen had helped to make European history before now, and Paul Maxgregor was not the softest of his race.
Generally he passed for an Asturian, for he spoke the language perfectly, having been in the service of that turbulent State for the last twenty odd years. There was always fighting in the Balkans, and the pay had attracted Paul Maxgregor in his earliest days. But though his loyalty had never been called in question, he was still a Briton to the backbone.
"I could not come before, Margaret," he said. "There were other matters. But why did you bring him here? Surely Lord Merehaven does not know that our beloved ruler——"
"He doesn't, Paul. But I had to be here and play my part. And there came news that the king was in some gambling house with a troupe of that archfiend's spies. The police helped me, and I dragged him out and I brought him here by way of the garden. Vera Galloway did the rest. I dared not leave that man behind me, I dared not trust a single servant I possess. So I smuggled the king here and I sent for you. He is very near to death to-night."
"Let him die!" Paul Maxgregor cried. "Let the carrion perish! Then you can seat yourself on the throne of Asturia, and I will see that you don't want for a following."
The queen looked up with a mournful smile on her face. There was one friend here whom she could trust, and she knew it well. Her hands were still held by those of Maxgregor.
"You are too impetuous, Paul," she said softly. "I know that you are devoted to me, that yo—you love me——"
"I love you with my whole heart and soul, sweetheart," Maxgregor whispered. "I have loved you since the day you came down from your father's castle in the hills to wed the drunken rascal who lies there heedless of his peril. The Maxgregors have ever been rash where their affections were concerned. And even before you became Erno's bride, I warned you what to expect. I would have taken you off then and there and married you, even though I had lost my career and all Europe would have talked of the scandal. But your mind was fixed upon saving Asturia from Russia, and you refused. Not because you did not love me——"
The queen smiled faintly. This handsome, impetuous, headstrong soldier spoke no more than the truth. And she was only a friendless, desperate woman after all.
"I must go on, Paul," she said. "My duty lies plainly before me. Suppose Erno ... dies? He may die to-night. And if he does, what will happen? As sure as you and I stand at this moment here, Russia will produce some document purporting to be signed by the king. The forgery will be a clever one, but it will be a forgery all the same. It will be proved that Erno has sold his country, the money will be traced to him, and Russia will take possession of those Southern passes. This information comes from a sure hand. And if Russia can make out a case like this, Europe will not interfere. Spies everywhere will make out that I had a hand in the business, and all my work will be in vain. Think of it, Paul—put your own feelings aside for a moment. Erno must not die."
Maxgregor paced up and down the room with long, impatient strides. The pleading voice of the queenhad touched him. When he spoke again his tone was calmer.
"You are right," he said. "Your sense of duty and honour make me ashamed. Mind you, were the king to die I should be glad. I would take you out of the turmoil of all this, and you would be happy for the first time in your life. We are wasting valuable time. See here."
As Maxgregor spoke he took a white package from his pocket and tore off the paper. Two small bottles were disclosed. The general drew the cork from one of them.
"I got this from Dr. Salerno—I could not find Dr. Varney," he explained—"and is for our distinguished drunkard—he takes one. The other is to be administered drop by drop every ten minutes. Salerno told me that the next orgie like this was pretty sure to be fatal. He said he had made the remedy strong."
The smaller bottle was opened, and Maxgregor proceeded to raise the head of the sleeping figure. He tilted up the phial and poured the contents down the sleeper's throat. He coughed and gurgled, but he managed to swallow it down. Then there was a faint pulsation of the rigid limbs, the white, mean face took on a tinge as if the blood were flowing again. Presently a pair of bloodshot eyes were opened and looked dully round the room. The king sat up and shuddered.
"What have you given me?" he asked fretfully. "My mouth is on fire. Fetch me champagne, brandy, anything that tastes of drink. What are you staring at, fool? Don't you see him over there? He's got a knife in his hand—he's all dressed in red. He's after me!"
With a yell the unhappy man sprang from the bed and flew to the window. The spring blind shot up and the casement was forced back before Maxgregor could interfere. Another moment and the madman would have been smashed on the flagstones below. With something that sounded like an oath Maxgregor dashed forward only just in time. His strong hands reached the drink-soddened maniac back, the casement was shut down, but in the heat and excitement of the moment the blind remained up, so that it was just possible from the terrace at the end of the garden to see into the room.
But this Maxgregor had not time to notice. He had the ruler of Asturia back on the bed now, weak and helpless and almost collapsed after his outburst of violence. The delusion of the red figure with the knife had passed for a moment, and the king's eyes were closed. Yet his heart was beating now, and he bore something like the semblance of a man.
"And to think that on a wretch like that the fate of a kingdom hangs," Maxgregor said sadly. "You can leave him to me, Margaret, for the time being. Your absence will be noticed by Mazaroff and the rest. Give the signal.... Why doesn't that girl come?"
But the signal was repeated twice with no sign of the sham Miss Galloway.
The two conspirators exchanged uneasy glances. The king seemed to have dropped off again into a heavy sleep, for his chest was rising steadily. Evidently the powerful drug had done its work. Maxgregor had opened the second phial, and had already begun to drop the spots at intervals on the sleeping man's lips.
"There must be something wrong," the queen said anxiously. "I am sure Miss Galloway is quite to be relied upon. She knew that she had to wait. They—why does she not come?"
"Watched, probably," Maxgregor said between his teeth. "There are many spies about. This delay may cause serious trouble, but you must not return back by yourself.... Try again."
Once more the signal was tried, and after the lapse of an anxious moment a knock came at the door. The queen crossed rapidly and opened it. Jessie stood there a little flushed and out of breath.
"I could not come before," she explained. "A man found me by the fountain. I can hardly tell you why, but I am quite sure that he is your enemy. If you knew Prince Boris Mazaroff——"
"You did wisely," the queen said. "I know Mazaroff quite well, and certainly he is no friend of mine or of my adopted country. You did not let him see you come?"
"No; I had to wait till there was a chance to get rid of him, madame. A friend came to my assistance, and Lord Merehaven was impressed into the service. Mazaroff will not trouble us for some little time; he will not be free before you regain the salon. And this gentleman——"
"Will have to stay here. He has to look after the king. Lock the door, Paul."
Maxgregor locked the door behind the queen and Jessie. They made their way quickly into the garden again without being seen. It was well that no time was lost, for the concert in the salon was just over, and the guests were beginning to troop out into the open air. The night was so calm and warm that it was possible to sit outside. Already a small army of footmen were coming with refreshments. The queen slipped away and joined a small party of the diplomatic circle, but the warm pressure of her hand and the radiancy of her smile testified to her appreciation of Jessie's services.
The girl was feeling uneasy and nervous now. She was wondering what was going to happen next. She slipped away from the rest and sauntered down a side path that led to a garden grove. Her head was in a maze of confusion. She had practically eaten nothing all day; she was feeling the want of food now. She sat down on a rustic seat and laid her aching head back.
Presently two men passed her, one old and grey and distinguished-looking, whom she had no difficulty in recognizing as Lord Merehaven. Nor was Jessie in the least surprised to see that his companion was Prince Mazaroff. The two men were talking earnestly together.
"I assure you, my lord, I am speaking no morethan the truth," Mazaroff said eagerly. "The secret treaty between Russia and Asturia over those passes is ready for signature. It was handed to King Erno only to-day, and he promised to read it and return it signed in the morning."
"Provided that he is in a position to sign," Lord Merehaven said drily.
"Just so, my lord. Under that treaty Russia gets the Southern passes. Once that is a fact, the fate of Asturia is sealed. You can see that, of course?"
"Yes, I can see that, Prince. It is a question of absorbing Asturia. I would give a great deal for a few words now with the King of Asturia."
"I dare say," Mazaroff muttered. "So would I for that matter. But nobody knows where he is. He has a knack of mysteriously disappearing when on one of his orgies. The last time he was discovered in Paris in a drinking den, herding with some of the worst characters in Europe. At the present moment his suite are looking for him everywhere. You see, he has that treaty in his pocket——"
Lord Merehaven turned in his stride and muttered that he must see to something immediately. Mazaroff refrained from following, saying that he would smoke a cigarette in the seclusion of the garden. The light from a lantern fell on the face of the Russian, and Jessie could plainly see the evil triumph there.
"The seed has fallen on fruitful ground," Mazaroff laughed. "That pompous old ass will—— Igon! What is it?"
Another figure appeared out of the gloom and stood before Mazaroff. The new-comer might have been an actor from his shaven face and alert air. He was in evening dress, and wore a collar of some order.
"I followed you," the man addressed as Igon said. "What am I looking so annoyed about? Well, you will look quite as much annoyed, my friend, when you hear the news. We've lost the king."
Something like an oath rose to Mazaroff's lips. He glanced angrily at his companion.
"The thing is impossible," he said. "Why, I saw the king myself at four o'clock this afternoon in a state of hopeless intoxication. It was I who lured him from his hotel with the story of some wonderful dancing he was going to see, with a prospect of some gambling to follow. I spoke in glowing terms of the marvellous excellency of the champagne. I said he would have to be careful, as the police have their eyes on the place. Disguised as a waiter the king left his hotel and joined me. I saw him helplessly drunk, and I came away with instructions that the king was to be carefully watched, and that he was not to be allowed to leave. Don't stand there and tell me that my carefully planned coup of so many weeks has failed."
"I do tell you that, and the sooner you realize it the better," the other man said. "We put the king to bed and locked the door on the outside. Just before dusk the police raided the place——"
"By what right? It is a private house. Nothing has ever taken place there that the police object to. Of course, it was quite a fairy tale that I pitched to the King of Asturia."
"Well, there it is!" the other said gloomily. "The police raided the place. Possibly somebody put them up to it. That Maxgregor is a devil of a fellow who finds out everything. They found nothing, and went off professing to be satisfied. And when I unlocked the door to see that we hadn't gone toofar with the king, he had vanished. I only found them out a little time ago, and I came to you at once. Not being an invited guest, I did not run the risk of coming to the house, but I got over the garden wall from the stables beyond, and here I am. It's no use blaming me, Mazaroff; I could not have helped it—nobody could have helped it."
Mazaroff paced up and down the gravel walk anxiously. His gloomy brows were knitted into a frown. A little while later and his face cleared again.
"I begin to see my way," he said. "We have people here to deal with cleverer than I anticipated. There is no time to be lost, Igon. Come this way."
The two rascals disappeared, leaving Jessie more mystified than ever. Then she rose to her feet in her turn and made her way towards the house. At any rate, she had made a discovery worth knowing. It seemed to be her duty to tell the queen what she had discovered. But the queen seemed to have vanished, for Jessie could not find her in the grounds of the house. As she came out of the hall she saw Ronald Hope, who appeared to be looking for somebody.
"I wanted you," he said in an undertone. "An explanation is due to me. You were going to tell me everything. I have never come across a more maddening mystery than this, Jessie."
"Don't even whisper my name," the girl said. "I will tell you everything presently. Meanwhile, I shall be very glad if you will tell me where I can find the Queen of Asturia."
"She has gone," was the unexpected reply. "She was talking to Lady Merehaven when a messenger came with a big letter. The queen glanced at itand ordered her carriage at once. She went quite suddenly. I hope there is nothing wrong, but from the expression of your face——"
"I hope my face is not as eloquent as all that," Jessie said. "What I have to say to the queen will keep, or the girl I am impersonating can carry the information. Let us go out into the garden, where we can talk freely. I am doing a bold thing, Ronald, and—— What is it?"
A footman was handing a letter for Jessie on a tray. The letter was addressed to Miss Galloway, and just for an instant Jessie hesitated. The letter might be quite private.
"Delivered by the young person from Bond Street, miss," the footman said. "The young person informed me that she hoped to come back with all that you required in an hour, miss. Meanwhile she seemed to be anxious for you to get this letter."
"What a complication it all is," Jessie said as she tore open the envelope and read the contents under the big electrics in the hall. "This is another mystery, Ronald. Read it."
Ronald Hope leaned over Jessie's shoulder and read as follows:—
"At all hazards go up to the bedroom where the king is, and warn the general he is watched. Implore him for Heaven's sake and his own topull down the blind!"
Jessie crushed the paper carelessly in the palm of her hand. Her impulse was, of course, to destroy the letter, seeing that the possession of it was not unattended with danger, but there was no chance at present. The thing would have to be burnt to make everything safe.
"How long since the note came?" she asked the footman with an assumption of displeasure. "Really, these tradespeople are most annoying."
The footman was understood to say that the note had only just arrived, that it had been left by the young person herself with an intimation that she would return presently. To all of this Jessie listened with a well-acted impatience.
"I suppose I shall have to put up with it," she said. "You know where to ask the girl if she comes. That will do. What were we talking about, Captain Hope?"
It was all admirably done, as Ronald Hope was fain to admit. But he did not like it, and he did not hesitate to say so. He wanted to know what it all meant. And he spoke as one who had every right to know.
"I can hardly tell you," Jessie said unsteadily. "Events are moving so fast to-night that they are getting on my nerves. Meanwhile, you seem to know General Maxgregor very well—you say that you are anxious to obtain a post in the Asturian service.That means, of course, that you know something of the history of the country. The character of the king, for instance——"
"Bad," Hope said tersely, "very bad indeed. A drunkard, aroué, and a traitor. It is for the queen's sake that I turn to Asturia."
"I can quite understand that. Queen Margaret of Asturia seems very fortunate in her friends. Look at this. Then put it in your pocket, and take the first opportunity of destroying it."
And Jessie handed the mysterious note to Ronald, who read it again with a puzzled air.
"That came from Vera Galloway," the girl explained. "She is close by, but she does not seem to have finished her task yet. Why I am here playing her part I cannot say. But there it is. This letter alludes to General Maxgregor, who is upstairs in one of the rooms in close attendance on the King of Asturia, who is suffering from one of his alcoholic attacks. Do you think that it is possible for anybody to see into the room?"
"Certainly," Ronald replied. "For instance, there are terraces at the end of the garden made to hide the mews at the back from overlooking the grounds. An unseen foe hidden there in the trees, with a good glass, may discover a good deal.VeraGalloway knows that, or she would not have sent you that note. You had better see to it at once."
Jessie hurried away, having first asked Hope to destroy the note. The door of the room containing the king was locked, and Jessie had to rap upon it more than once before it was opened. A voice inside demanded her business.
"I come with a message from the queen," she whispered. She was in a hurry, and there wasalways the chance of the servants coming along. "Please let me in."
Very cautiously the door was opened. General Maxgregor stood there with a bottle in his hand. His face was deadly pale, and his hand shook as if he had a great fear of something. The fear was physical, or Jessie was greatly mistaken.
"What has happened?" she asked. "Tell me, what has frightened you so terribly?"
"Frightened!" Maxgregor stammered. It seemed odd at the moment to think of this man as one of the bravest and most dashing cavalry officers in Europe. "I don't understand what you mean?"
With just a gesture of scorn Jessie indicated the cheval glass opposite. As Maxgregor glanced at the polished mirror he saw a white, ghastly face, wet with sweat, and with a furtive, shrinking look in the eyes. He passed the back of his hand over his moist forehead.
"You are quite right," he said. "I had not known—I could not tell. And I have been passing through one of the fiercest temptations that ever lured a man to the edge of the Pit. You are brave and strong, Miss Galloway, and already you have given evidences of your devotion to the queen. Look there!"
With loathing and contempt Maxgregor indicated the bed on which the King of Asturia was lying. The pitiful, mean, low face and its frame of shock red hair did not appeal to Jessie.
"Not like one's recognized notion of royalty," she said.
"Royalty! The meanest beggar that haunts the gutter is a prince compared to him. He drinks, he gambles, he is preparing to barter his crown for amess of pottage. And the fellow's heart is hopelessly weak. At any moment he may die, and the heart of the queen will be broken. Not for him, but for the sake of her people. You see this bottle in my hand?"
"Yes," Jessie whispered. "It might be a poison and you—and you——"
"Might be a poisoner," Maxgregor laughed uneasily. "The reverse is the case. I have to administer the bottle drop by drop till it is exhausted, and if I fail the king dies. Miss Galloway, when you came into the room you were face to face with a murderer."
"You mean to say," Jessie stammered, "that you were going to refrain from—from——"
"That was it, though you hesitate to say the word. I had only to get rid of the contents of that bottle and let it be tacitly understood that the patient had taken his medicine. In an hour he would be dead—his heart would have given way under the strain. The world would have been well rid of a scoundrel, and I should never have been found out. The queen would have regained her freedom at the loss of Asturia. And I would have consoled her—I could have healed her wound."
The last words came with a fierce indrawing of the speaker's breath. One glance at his face, and Jessie knew everything. She could feel for the long-drawn agony of the strong man's temptation. She loved herself, and she could realize it all. There was nothing but pity in her heart.
"I understand," she said. "Oh, I understand perfectly. I came in time to save you. General Maxgregor, this matter must never be alluded to between us again. The temptation is past now, I am certain. A brave and good soldier like you—— But I am forgetting. I did not come to you fromthe queen as I said, because the queen has already departed. I had an urgent message from some unknown friend who desires me to say that you have left the blind up."
"Bless me! and is that really a fact?" Maxgregor exclaimed. "And it is quite possible for any one to see into this room from the terrace at the end of the garden. I used to play here as a boy. There are many spies about to-night. I am glad you reminded me."
Maxgregor crossed over to the window and laid his hand on the blind. As he stood there with the light behind him his figure was picked out clear and sharp. The blind came down with a rush, there was a little tinkle of glass, and the general staggered back with his hand to his shoulder. A moan of pain escaped him as he collapsed into a chair.
"What is it?" Jessie asked anxiously."Pray tell me, what is the matter? That broken glass——"
"'What is it?' Jessie asked anxiously.""'What is it?' Jessie asked anxiously."
"A bullet," Maxgregor whispered between his teeth, that were clenched in pain. "As I stood in the window somebody fired at me from the garden. It must have been a watcher hidden amongst the trees on the terrace. A little more to the left and my career had been ended."
The man had obtained a grip of himself now, but he was evidently suffering intense pain. A dark stain of red broke out on the left side of his coat.
"I have been hit in the shoulder," he said. "I have no doubt that it is little more than a flesh wound, but it is bleeding, and I feel faint. I once lay on the battlefield all night with such a wound, so that I can put up with it. Please leave me alone for a moment; do not think of me at all. It is just the time for the king to have another dose of those drops. Thereis no help for it now, Miss Galloway. You must stay and give the king his medicine until it is all gone. Meanwhile, I can only sit here and suffer. For Heaven's sake never mind me."
Jessie took the bottle from the hand of the stricken man and walked to the bed. She marvelled at the steadiness of her own hand. The drops fell on the lips of the sleeping man, who was now breathing regularly. Half an hour passed, and then the bottle was empty.
"I have done my task," Jessie said. "What next? Shall I call Lord Merehaven——"
"Not for worlds," Maxgregor whispered fiercely. "He must not know. We must wait till the house is quiet. There is no occasion ... how faint and giddy I am! If there was only one man whom I could trust at this critical moment!"
Jessie thought for a moment, then a brilliant inspiration came to her. She touched Maxgregor on the arm.
"I have the very man," she said. "You know him; he is a good and efficient soldier. Moreover, he is anxious to obtain a post in the Asturian army. He is a great friend of mine—Captain Ronald Hope."
"You are a veritable angel of mercy and courage," Maxgregor cried. "There is no man I would sooner trust in a crisis like this than Captain Hope. Will you take long to find him?"
Jessie engaged to have Ronald in the room in five minutes. She crept down the stairs as if listless and bored with everything, but her heart was beating thick and fast. There was no trouble in finding Ronald, who advanced towards the stairs at Jessie's signal. She wasted no words in idle explanation, but led him directly to the room where Maxgregor was waiting.
"We seem to have dropped into a murderous gang," he said, when the hurried explanation was finished. "Do you think those fellows know everything, General?"
"I fancy they know a great deal," Maxgregor muttered. "They know that they will be more safe if I am out of the way, and they have a pretty good notion of the identity of the poor fool lying on the bed yonder. If we could only get him away!He had no business to come here at all, and yet the queen could not do anything else. If we could only get him away!"
"Wouldn't it come to the same thing if those murderous ruffians merely thought that the king had gone?" Jessie asked. "Then in the dead of the night I could manage the real removal. If I could show you a way of throwing dust in the eyes of those people——"
"You have a plan?" Maxgregor said. "A clever woman against the world! Say on."
"My plan is a very simple one," Jessie said. "Before long the grounds will be deserted for supper. There will be nobody in the garden at all. Supper is at midnight. Change clothes with the king, though it will be a tight fit for you, General. Then you can descend by the balcony to the garden. Go to the gate that leads into the lane beyond, walk as if you were under the influence of recent potations. At the end of the lane are cabs. Take one and go to your chambers and send for a doctor. Doubtless you will be followed in another cab by whoever was, or ratheris, in the garden, but I will see that the murderer is delayed. Later on Captain Hope and myself will decide what is to be done with the king."
The plan was simple, but quite sufficient for the circumstances. Jessie retired into the dressing-room whilst the change was being made. She was not sorry for a little time to collect her thoughts. It seemed to her that she had lived for a century since the few hours before when Madame Malmaison had given her a curt dismissal. A lifetime had been crushed into minutes. The girl was being taxed now to the utmost limit of her strength. She longed for Vera Galloway's return.
Still, she had achieved her object; she was likely to be free from anxiety for some time to come, and best of all, she had found Ronald Hope again. It was good to know that he had loved her all along, and that he had not once faltered in his allegiance. It was worth a great deal to know that.
A whisper behind the door of the dressing-room, and Jessie was herself again. The change had been made, and the king had fallen into his stupor once more. General Maxgregor looked pinched and confined in the dress of his king, but that would pass in the dark. His face was deadly white too, which was all in his favour. The wound had ceased to bleed, but the pain was still there.
"I am quite ready," he whispered, "when you think that the coast is clear."
The house was growing noisy again as the guests filed in to supper. Jessie ventured into the corridor presently and looked out into the grounds. So far as she could see the place was empty. She would go and take her place by the door leading into the lane, and the general was to follow a little later. Would Ronald lend her half a sovereign? Jessie shuddered and turned a little pale as she pushed through the belt of trees behind the terrace, for the would-be murderer might have been lurking there at that moment.
From where she stood she could see Maxgregor coming in her direction. He walked unsteadily; there was no reason to sham intoxication, for his wound did that for him. It was only the iron nerve of the man that kept him going at all. Jessie was thankful at length to see that Maxgregor had reached the door. At the end of the lane two hansoms were standing. The general stumbled into one of themand was driven rapidly away. Then, as Jessie had confidently anticipated, another figure emerged as if from the door of the garden and hailed the other hansom. Doubtless the idea was to keep the general's cab in sight and track him to his destination, under the impression that the King of Asturia was in the first hansom.
But Jessie was resolved to frustrate that. She stepped quickly forward and hailed the other cab. Then for the first time she saw that the newcomer was not, as she expected, a man, but a woman. She was tall and fair, and exceedingly good looking.
"I particularly want that cab," she said coolly. "I put up my hand first."
The speaker used good English, Jessie noticed, though with a lisp. Without waiting to combat the point, Jessie jumped into the cab.
"There is another a little way down the lane," she said. "I am in a hurry, or I would wait. Please drive me to 14, Albert Mansions, Hyde Park."
With a sort of smothered exclamation, the other hurried down the lane. The cabman again asked where he was to go. He had not caught the direction, he said.
"I don't want to go anywhere," Jessie said coolly, as she came to the ground again. "Take this half sovereign, and drive some distance, say a mile, at a good pace. And if you can possibly prevent that woman behind catching the first cab so much the better. Now bang your doors to and be off."
With a grin the cabman touched his cap, the door banged, and the hansom set off as if the fare were in a breakneck hurry. Standing well back in the doorway Jessie had the satisfaction of seeing the fair woman flash by her presently on her futileerrand. She had saved the situation for the present. Nobody guessed where the King of Asturia was, and the spy had gone off on a false errand altogether. No doubt the would-be assassin had departed by this time.
In a fever of impatience Ronald Hope awaited Jessie at the steps of the balcony. The gardens were quite deserted by this time, so that it was possible to talk in safety.
"He got clear off," Jessie said, not without a little pardonable pride. "As I expected, an attempt was made to follow him, only fortunately there were only two hansoms in the lane, and I took the second one and pretended to drive away whilst the spy was hurrying elsewhere in search of a conveyance. That was what I wanted your half sovereign for, Ronald."
"And the spy?" Ronald asked. "What sort of a fellow was he?"
"It was not a fellow at all. The spy was a woman, and a very nice looking one, too. Tall and fair, with rather a patrician cast of features. But I should know her again."
"And now you are going to tell me everything, dearest?" Ronald said.
"Indeed I am not going to do anything of the sort just at present," Jessie said. "I don't want anybody to see me talking to you in this fashion when everybody is at supper. Recollect that I am Miss Vera Galloway, and that I am supposed to be fond of a certain Charles Maxwell, whose friends may make mischief for him. I shall go into supper; and indeed, Ronald, a little food and a glass of wine are absolute necessities, for my legs are trembling as if I had walked too far. Have patience."
Ronald bent and kissed the speaker, with a fervent hope that everything would end well. Jessie slipped into the supper-room presently and took her seat at a table with three other people, who welcomed her heartily. She had not the least idea who they were, but they evidently knew Vera Galloway very well indeed. Some of the questions were very awkward ones for the girl to reply to.
"My dear friends," she said, "I am ravenously hungry. Positively, I have a country appetite. A little of the chicken and salad and just a glass of champagne. I am not going to answer any questions till I have had my supper. Go on with your gossip."
In spite of her anxiety Jessie made a hearty supper. She was glad presently when a footman came up to her with a message. She hoped that Vera Galloway, in the guise of a shop-girl, had come back. But it was not the real Vera, it was only an intimation to the effect that a district messenger boy was waiting to see Miss Vera Galloway in the hall. Hurriedly Jessie passed out.
"Charing Cross 'Ospital, miss," the lad said as he touched his cap. "Young person from a shop. Had a nasty accident; run over by a cab. Said as they was to let you know as how she could not come to-night and see to your hat as arranged."
Jessie checked a wild burst of hysterical laughter. She was in a pretty predicament indeed.
She was not even aware of Vera's maid's name. She would write a letter to Vera asking for definite instructions. The note was despatched at length, and Jessie came into the hall with a feeling of wonder as to what was going to happen next. She was glad to find Ronald Hope awaiting her.
"There are lines of anxiety on your face," he said. "I shall be very glad when the real Vera Galloway comes back and enables that 'young person' Jessie Harcourt to depart in peace. Let me know when the time comes, so that I can escort you back to your lodgings and talk matters over with you and Ada."
"There is not the slightest chance of your doing that to-night, Ronald," Jessie said, repressing a wild desire to laugh. "My dear boy, this thing is developing from one adventure to a hideous nightmare. Of course, I haven't the remotest idea what Miss Galloway had in her mind when she brought me here, but I have just heard that she has met with an accident which will detain her in Charing Cross Hospital till the end of the week."
"Which means that you must carry on the masquerade till then?"
"Which means that I must try, which is a very different thing altogether. I can only clear myself by confessing the truth, and thereby getting Miss Galloway into serious trouble. She is a good girl, and I am certain that she is up to no wrong. She is making a great sacrifice for the sake of somebody else. If I tell the truth, that sacrifice will be in vain. Ronald, tell me what I am to do for the best."
But Ronald Hope had no advice to offer. The situation was beyond the wildest dreams of fiction. He could only shrug his shoulders and hope for the best. There was nothing for it now but to sit down and watch the progress of events.
"Let us go and enjoy ourselves," Ronald said. "I feel horribly guilty over the whole thing, especially as Lady Merehaven is such a dear good friend of mine. Is that a band I can hear in the garden?Let us walk about, and pretend that we are perfectly gay and happy."
Supper was over by this time, and the guests all over the house and grounds. Jessie thought of that white, silent form sleeping in the room where she had conducted the Queen of Asturia and General Maxgregor. A sudden thought had come to her.
"I can't do it, Ronald," she said. "Practically, I am left guardian of a king. I, who was only this morning quite content to try on bonnets in a Bond Street shop! It seems almost incredible, but the fact remains. If his majesty comes to his senses——"
"By Jove!" Ronald said thoughtfully. "I have never thought of that. What are you going to do?"
"Run upstairs again and see that the king is all right. Then there is another matter that has entirely escaped my attention in the new complication—General Maxgregor. He went away from here badly hurt and in great pain. He may have fainted in the cab—he may be dead, perhaps. Ronald, you must be guided by me. You have the run of the house—you seem to come and go as you like."
"I have had the run of the house since I was a kid in knickerbockers, Jessie."
"Very good. Then you are to go at once to the general's lodgings and see that everything is being done for him. Then come back and report progress. Go at once, please."
Ronald departed obediently. As Jessie crossed the room in the direction of the house, three girls stood in her way. She would have passed them for strangers, but they held on to her in a manner so familiar that Jessie realized they were friends of Vera Galloway's.
"What is the matter with the girl to-night?" one of them cried gaily. "There is a frown on her brow, there are lines on her cheeks. Is it Tommy or Larry that causes the trouble?"
Jessie laughed in affected good humour, wondering all the while who Tommy and Larry might be. The question was pressed again, and there was nothing but to answer it.
"Oh, they are all right," she said in an offhand way. "Haven't you seen them to-night?"
"To-night!" one of the girls cried. "When? On one of the tables after the sugar? Positively, I am jealous of your Larry. But he would not have done so well at Brighton if Lionel had been there."
"Possibly not," Jessie admitted. "As Tommy said to me——"
"Tommy said to you!" laughed another of the girls. "Oh, you people are absurd over your pets. Cats are all very well in their way, but whilst there are dogs and horses——"
Jessie felt an inclination to embrace the speaker who had quite innocently helped her out of the hole. It was quite evident that Tommy and Larry were two pet cats belonging to Miss Galloway. The Lionel in question, whose absence from Brighton—presumedly at a show—was evidently a pet of the tall girl with the very nice blue eyes. The incident was farcical enough, but the incidents came so fast that they were beginning to get on Jessie's nerves.
"I'll come and see Lionel soon, if I may," she said. "Is that Lady Longmarsh over there? I have been looking for her all the evening."
And Jessie managed to slip away into the house. Here and there someone or another smiled at her and asked her questions that she found it difficult toparry, chaff and badinage that would have been easy to Vera Galloway, though they were as Greek to her double.
"I can positively feel my hair turning grey," Jessie said to herself as she crept up the stairs. The thought of carrying on this imposition till the end of the week was appalling. "I shall have to invent a bad turn of neuralgia, and stay in my bedroom till Saturday. Vera is a society girl, and surely has many social engagements, and I don't even know what her programme for to-morrow is."
Jessie slipped into the room where the king lay. He looked grotesque enough in Maxgregor's uniform, and not in the least like a ruler. So far as Jessie could see, the poor creature looked like sleeping a long time yet. The danger of collapse was past for the present, but the deep sleep of utter intoxication still clung to the ruler of Asturia. For some time, at any rate, there was no expectation of danger in that quarter. And there was always Ronald Hope to fall back upon. When everybody had gone, which was not likely to be very soon, the king would be smuggled out of the house. The Queen of Asturia had gone off in a hurry, but she was pretty certain to send instructions by somebody. The man on the bed turned and muttered something in his sleep.
"Don't let anybody know," he said. "He's at Charleston Street, No. 15. Always manage it that way. Give me some more of it. Out of the other bottle."
The voice trailed off in a murmur, and the deep sleep fell again. Jessie crept away and locked the door. Down in the hall a great throng of guests passed from the room into the garden and back again. At the back of the press Jessie caught sightof a tall, stately figure, with the light falling on her glorious hair and sparkling on her diamond tiara. Jessie's heart gave a great leap; she felt that the needed aid was close at hand.
"Heaven be praised!" she said. "The queen has returned again. What does she know, I wonder?"
The Queen of Asturia was back again surely enough, smiling as if she had not a trouble in the world. Lady Merehaven was listening to what she had to say.
"I found that I had to return," she was murmuring. "I am searching for a will-o'-the-wisp. I was told that I should find him at the Duchess of Norton's, but he had been called away from there. There was a case needing his urgent attention at Charing Cross Hospital. I was told that subsequent to that matter my will-o'-the-wisp was coming on here positively. Have you seen Dr. Varney?"
Lady Merehaven had not seen the distinguished physician, but he had certainly promised to look in at Merehaven House in the course of the evening. Despite his position and his many affairs, Dr. Varney was a man who prided himself upon keeping his social engagements, and he was certain to appear. It seemed to Jessie that the queen seemed to be relieved about something. She had never ceased to smile, but there was an expression of sudden fierce gladness in her eyes. As she looked up her glance took in Jessie. There was a quick signal, the uplifting of a bouquet, and that was all.
But Jessie understood that the queen wanted to speak to her without delay. The opportunity came presently, for Lady Merehaven was called away, leaving a pompous old diplomat to wait on thequeen. It was an easy matter to send him in quest of lemonade, and then as the bouquet was lifted again, Jessie crossed over rapidly to the side of the queen.
"Tell me all that has happened," she commanded swiftly, fiercely almost, though the smile never left her face. She might have been discussing the most trivial of topics. "I was called away; I had to go. I am at the beck and call of people like a footman."
"You have not seen or heard anything, madame?" Jessie asked.
"Did I not tell you so? Forgive my temper, but I am harassed and worried to death. Is everything going all right?"
"Up to the present, madame," Jessie proceeded to explain. "It was unfortunate that the blind in the room upstairs was not pulled down. I had a warning about that, so I proceeded to the bedroom. General Maxgregor was giving those drops to the king, out of the little bottle——"
"Yes, yes. And were they all administered? Heaven forgive me for asking the question, but I think that had I been in General Maxgregor's place, I——but I talk nonsense. Were they all——?"
"Every one of them. I administered the last few drops myself. I had to, for the simple reason that General Maxgregor was wounded. The blind was up, and somebody shot at the general from the garden, from the high terrace at the end of the garden."
"Ah! Well, it is only what I expected, after all. The general—was he badly hit?"
"In the shoulder. He said it was only a flesh wound, but evidently he was in great pain. You see, after that the general had to go away at once. At my suggestion he changed clothes with the king,and I managed to get him away, all staggering and ill as he was, by way of the garden."
"You are a brave and true friend—God bless you! But there was the danger of being followed, Vera."
"I thought of that. There were two hansoms in the lane, and I put the supposed king into one of them and gave the cabman the address of the general's lodgings. As I expected, somebody appeared and attempted to obtain the use of the other cab, but I was too quick for the foe. I gave the cabman money and told him to drive on as if he carried a fare, and the spy was baffled."
"Wonderful! I shall never forget your service to me and to Asturia. What was the man like who——"
"It was not a man at all, madame," Jessie proceeded to explain. "It was a woman. She was tall and fair, and exceedingly beautiful. I should not have any difficulty in recognizing her again."
The queen expressed her satisfaction, nor did she seem in the least surprised to find that the spy was a woman.
"I am very sorry about the accident to the general," she said thoughtfully. "But it only tends to show you what we have to guard against. I must go to the general as soon as possible. He may be very ill."
"I have already sent," Jessie said. "To a great extent I had to confide in somebody. I told my friend Captain Ronald Hope all that was necessary, and he is on his way to the general's now. Captain Hope is also a great friend of General Maxgregor, and is, I know, very anxious to find a post in the Asturian army. Perhaps your majesty may know him?"
The queen smiled and nodded. Evidently the name of Ronald was quite familiar to her. Then she went on to ask after the health of the king. Her face changed to a bitter smile as Jessie proceeded to say what she had done in that direction.
"I shall know how to act in the future," the queen said, "once the crisis is over. But there are people waiting to talk to me, and who are wondering why I am wasting my time on a mere girl like you when I have the privilege of their society. If they only knew!"
Jessie passed on, feeling that she was dismissed for the present. She wandered aimlessly into the garden; there was a good deal of noise and laughter going on behind the terrace. The little door leading to the lane was open, and from the far side came the hiss of a motor.
"Have you come to join the fun, Vera?" a girl who was a total stranger to Jessie asked. "We are having larks on Pongo's motor-car. But now that you have come Pongo will have eyes for nobody else."
Jessie wondered who Pongo was, and whether any tender passages had passed between him and Miss Galloway. Possibly not, for Vera was not the class of girl who made herself a familiar footing with the type of young man who allows himself to be christened by so characteristic a name.
"Doin' it for a charity," a typical Johnny drawled as the car pulled up. Jessie recognized the Bond Street type of rich fool who is flattered for his money. "Get in, Miss Vera. Take you as far as Piccadilly and back for a shilling. Society for Lost Dogs, you know."
Jessie promptly accepted the offer, for a wild,brilliant scheme had come into her head. The motor flashed along before there was time for anybody else to get in.
"Not as far as Piccadilly," Jessie said. "Only to the end of the lane and back. I can't stay at present, Pongo. But if I come back presently, do you think you could get rid of the others and take me as far as Charing Cross Hospital? It's for the sake of a bet, you know."
Pongo, whose other name Jessie had not the slightest idea of, grinned with pleasure. The more ridiculous the thing, the more it appealed to his peculiar nature. He would keep his car at the end of the lane and wait for Miss Galloway an hour if necessary. The mention of his pet name and the flash from Jessie's eyes had utterly overcome him.
"Anything you like," he said. "Streets quiet, and all that; take you to Charing Cross and back before you could say Jack Robinson, don't you know. Only I'd like to make the journey slow, don't you know."
Jessie laughed a response to the meaningless chatter of her companion. She was going to do a foolish and most certainly a desperate thing, but there was no help for it. Back in the house again she could see a little man with a fine head and a grey beard talking to the queen. There was no need to tell Jessie that this was Doctor Varney, for she knew the great physician well by sight. She was going to speak to him presently and get an order, late as it was, for her to see a patient in the hospital. She knew quite well that it was no use her trying to get into the big establishment at that hour without a special permit, and it would be no fault of hers if that permit did not emanate from Dr. Varney.
The little man's powerful voice boomed out, but ever and again it was dropped at some quiet question from the queen. Presently the doctor moved on in the direction of Jessie. She assumed that he would probably know Miss Vera Galloway quite well, and she made up her mind to address him as a friend of the family. But there were other people first who claimed the doctor's attention—a Cabinet Minister, who had a question or two to put on the score of his personal health, so that it was some little time before Jessie obtained her chance. Even then the appearance of Lady Merehaven delayed the operation.
"Positively, my dear lady, I must apologize for being so late," the doctor said. "But there was a little matter claiming my attention at Charing Cross Hospital, an operation that one does not get every day, and one that would brook no delay. But I got here as soon as possible. Sad thing about your niece."
"Why, what is the matter with my niece?" Lady Merehaven demanded. "My niece!"
The doctor looked as surprised as his hostess. There was a grave expression on his fine face.
"Miss Vera Galloway," he said. "Managed to get run over by a cab. But you must know all about that. Nothing serious, really; but the loss of her pleasant face here, and the knowledge that she takes no part in the festivities of the evening, is rather distressing. But she seems quite cheerful."
"Dr. Varney," Lady Merehaven cried, "positively, I know nothing of what you are talking about."
Jessie crept away and hid herself discreetly behind one of the big palms in the hall. What was coming now?