"The king is going," she said between her teeth. "You may be quite sure about that. If he declines, or shews the least infirmity of purpose, he will be drugged and taken home that way. He will shew himself in the capital. A manifesto will be issued directly he gets there. There is one thing yet to be done."
The queen paused and looked significantly at Lechmere. He smiled and shook his head.
"I know exactly what your majesty means," he said. "It is useless for us to take all this trouble if we are to be confronted with a mystery which will enable certain people to say that the King of Asturia is still in London. I have taken a step to entirely obviate that business. If your majesty has a few minutes to spare I shall be able to render your mind easy on that score."
The queen expressed her willingness to stay, and Lechmere left the room. He paused to light a cigar in the corridor and don his overcoat again. Then he walked casually to the outer door of the next suite of rooms and strolled calmly in. The second door of the suite was locked and Lechmere gently tried the handle.
"So far so good," he muttered. "There is another door into the corridor leading to the back stairs. I need not worry about the back stairs as my ferret is there. If the thing were not so serious, what a fine comedy it would make! Now for it!"
Lechmere tapped smartly on the door, a murmur of voices within ceased and the door was opened and shewed the face of Prince Mazaroff himself. He turned a little pale as he saw Lechmere and stammeringly asked what the latter wanted. Lechmere laughed in an irritating kind of way.
"Well, that's pretty cool," he said. "I come to the suite of rooms of my friend Bevis to smoke a cigar and I find you here demanding why I come. Is Bevis here?"
"No, he isn't," Mazaroff said curtly as he came into the front room and closed the door behind him. "And, what is more, he is not likely to be in. I have a friend in there if you must know."
Mazaroff grinned with an assumption that Lechmere could understand that the situation was rather a delicate one. But Lechmere knew better than that for the voice in the inner room had been unmistakably that of a man. But it served the purpose of the old diplomat to let the thing pass.
"Very well," he said. "I will take your word for it. But where is my friend Bevis?"