“Very well,” said Selden. “I will call for you at nine,” and he took his leave.
Once in his room, he got into robe and slippers, filled his pipe and threw himself on the chaise-longue. He must reason this thing out—he must find the key to what was in the minds of these two very subtle women.
Why had the countess looked at him so strangely? What was the reward she planned for him?
And what had Madame Ghita meant by “friend”? What was it she had said?
“I thought you were Jeneski’s friend.”
Why had that long white hand trembled so?
CHAPTER XV
THE LIONS ROAR
THE London Times does not reach Nice until five o’clock in the evening, but by the middle of the morning a crowd of newspaper men, diplomats and motley adventurers were besieging the gates of the Villa Gloria. As the baron had foreseen, Selden’s telegram had caused a considerable flutter at many London breakfast tables.
Lord Curzon, for example, who, heaven knows, is not easily moved from the prearranged and almost godlike tenor of his ways, reached his office ten minutes earlier than usual, wired Paris for a confirmation, and called in his Balkan expert and his financial adviser for a conference that lasted nearly an hour, at the end of which a long telegram of mingled advice and admonition was sent to Jeneski and another to the ambassador at Paris, informing him that the attitude of the British foreign office would be strictly neutral—which meant, of course, that if the king could get back his throne, pay off his debts to Britain and open up some trade, the Empire would have every reason to be gratified.
All the Balkan ambassadors proceeded to warm up the wires between London and their several capitals, most of them sending Selden’s article in full in order to avoid the bother of composing something out of their own heads, and then repaired to Lord Curzon’s ante-chamber to inquire what the British government was going to do about it. Lord Curzon, of course, hadn’t the slightest intention of telling any one what he was going to do about it, even if he knew himself, but he concealed this fact behind a cryptic manner and a Jove-like demeanour. He gave Jeneski’s ambassador an extra minute, on the strength of which that worthy sent a hopeful telegram to his master.