Ralph looked surprised, but not displeased, and was away twenty minutes.
"Miss Beechy wants us to find out where Dalmar-Kalm has taken her mother and Miss Destrey," said he, when he returned from the interview.
The order was welcome. Nothing was known at the hotel concerning the destination of the Prince and his companions in the cab, so I hurried to get the car, and Ralph and I drove off together, meaning to make inquiries in the town.
"Did Miss Beechy's mysterious communication have anything to do with her cousin? "I couldn't resist asking Ralph, who sat beside me, in that blessed seat sacred so long to the One Woman.
"Yes, it had," he replied discreetly.
"And with Dalmar-Kalm?"
"Distinctly with Dalmar-Kalm."
That sent some blood up behind my eyes, and I saw Ragusa red, instead of pink.
"By Jove, you've got to tell me what she did say, now!" I exclaimed.
"Can't, my dear chap. It's a promise—after a confidence. But I don't mind letting out this much. It seems Miss Beechy has been playing dolls with us, as she calls it, on this trip, without any of us suspecting it—or at least seeing the game in its full extent. Owing to her manipulation of her puppets, there's the dickens to pay, and she thinks she has reason to know that Dalmar-Kalm had better not be allowed to take a long excursion with Miss Destrey, even chaperoned by our dear, wise Countess."