“Do you know where he is?”
“No; but I can trace him,” I replied.
So I could. I bought a paper, and found that Prince and Princess Ferdinand had, the day before, proceeded from Paris en route for Glottenberg. Of course Daynesborough had followed them.
“We must go on,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because your husband has gone on.”
She obeyed me like a lamb; but there was a look about her pretty mouth that made me doubt if Daynesborough would find her like a lamb.
We went to the principal hotel in Glottenberg. I introduced Lady Daynesborough as my sister, Miss Jacynth Jason, and stated that she was in weak health, and would keep her room for the present. Then I sallied forth, intent on discovering Dumergue; he would be able to post me up in the state of affairs.
On my way, I met the king taking his daily drive. He was a dour, sour-looking, pasty-faced creature, and I quite understood that he would fail to appreciate many of my prince’s characteristics. A priest sat by him, and a bystander told me it was the king’s confessor (the Glottenberg family are all of the old church), and added that the king’s confessor was no mean power in the state. I asked him where M. Dumergue was lodged, and he directed me to Prince Ferdinand’s palace, which stood in a pleasant park in the suburbs of the town.