"Good Heavens!" I jerked out. "What do you mean?"
"I don't exactly know myself. Things mayn't be as serious as the little girl thinks in her present remorseful mood, no doubt intensified by her late illness. 'When the devil was sick, the devil a monk would be,' you know—and the rest of it. Still, we're safe in finding out where the party has gone and taking steps accordingly."
"There's Joseph, mooning about with his hands in his pockets, like a lost soul," I exclaimed.
"Have lost souls pockets?"
"Shut up. I'm going to catechize him. He rather likes me, and has several times relieved his mind on the subject of his master, by spitting venom to his brother chauffeur until I refused to listen."
With this I stopped the car in front of the gaudy shop which had attracted the dismal little Joseph.
"Is your car mended already?" I asked him in French.
"It was not broken, Monsieur."
"Really. I understood the Prince to say it was."
"I know not what he said. Is there anything that His Highness would not say, if it pleased him? But so far from the car being injured, I was kept up most of the night by his command, putting it in the best order, looking to every nut, seeing that the grease-cups were filled, and everything as fine as though to try for first prize in a show. This morning did I get a moment's sleep? On the contrary, I must drive the automobile at eight o'clock, before any one was up, down to the harbour, and with much trouble put it on the yacht of the Conte Corramini, which had come into this port, the saints alone know why."