“It must be hushed up,” he cried with positive indignation. “The Chancellor was fool enough to put in the official circular to the Press of the Crown Prince’s movements that he was present at a dance at the Domino Club last night.”
“That will be good news for Madame Bonnell,” the consultant observed dryly. “Is there any idea at the Embassy that the Prince’s life was aimed at?”
Captain Charles glanced round cautiously and lowered his voice.
“That’s the worst of it. The Bolsheviks are working their hardest to upset the monarchy in Slavonia, and it is believed that one of their agents in this country obtained admission to the club last night disguised as a woman.”
“Zenobia!” I could no more keep in the ejaculation than I could still the beating of my heart as I gave it vent.
My two companions turned sharply and looked at me, the Inspector with a certain grudging respect, my chief with a slight frown of something very like disdain. I bit my tongue too late.
“Zenobia seems to have made a bad guess at the Prince’s identity,” Tarleton said mercilessly. “Unless His Royal Highness wore an Inquisitor’s costume, too?”
The Captain’s face fell as he responded to the question.
“I didn’t inquire about that, Sir Frank,” he admitted. “I’ll go round again and find out.”
“Do, please. It will be time enough to consider Zenobia’s part in the mystery when we have heard from the theatrical costumiers. One moment——” Captain Charles had taken a step towards the exit—“I should like you to wait till I have put a question to Madame Bonnell.”