“I see,” she said, slowly, and her voice lost its fine resonances, and became almost sharp. “You gentlemen will wish to refresh yourselves. You should probably also see a doctor, for I fear my overzealous guards have not been as careful of your well-being as I could wish. Meanwhile I have one small favor to ask of you. You brought to Herrovosca a man hidden in the back of your car. He came up to the Palace during the trouble at the gate. I wish that you should say nothing of this man to anyone. You will give me your word?”
“Certainly,” I said.
“And who,” Maria Lalena asked, her eyes turned wide and frightened toward her mother, “was the man they brought here? Was that who was locked in here with you when I came to tell you about these gentlemen?”
“That,” said Yolanda, drily, “is just what I do not wish discussed.”
“But surely I may know?” the girl persisted. I saw that her hands were trembling. She had had a bad fright with the bomb.
“You? Certainly.” Yolanda’s voice was honeyed. “The man is a monk who has left his monastery to bring me consolation in my sorrow.” But her voice sounded triumphant. A monk, and with manicured finger nails? The sleeve was a monk’s sleeve, but he had a mustache and not more than three days’ beard.
“A monk?” asked Maria Lalena, uneasily. “Then why not speak of his coming?”
“That,” Yolanda answered, firmly, “we can easily discuss later. These gentlemen are exhausted, and we must not keep them any longer. Some other time, perhaps.”
“There is still the matter of Countess Waldek,” John protested. “I should like to know that you will send a rescue expedition to her.”
Queen Yolanda answered coldly, “You can surely leave that to us, Countess Waldek is our affair.”