"Perhaps you exaggerate the danger."
"I fear not," he answered, as he stepped from the carriage. "I foresee evil days for Sturatzberg. Good-day, Countess; if I can save the situation, it must be by the sacrifice of my countryman, I fear. It is a pity."
He stood bareheaded until the carriage had driven away, and then went quickly toward the Embassy. If Frina Mavrodin knew where Captain Ellerey was, as Lord Cloverton was convinced she did, she would warn him. Whatever interests Ellerey had at heart, he would not chance disaster by attempting to leave the city until the watch upon the gates was relaxed to some extent. There must, therefore, be delay in whatever plot was in hand, and a few days now were of priceless value.
Politics had little place in Frina Mavrodin's thoughts as she drove homeward through the city. She had denied that Desmond Ellerey had drawn sword in her cause, and yet might he not have done so after all? What she had seen might only have been the end of a quarrel. Baron Petrescu may have spoken some light word concerning her which Ellerey had resented. If Lord Cloverton had spoken the truth, Ellerey's last thought had been of her. She was quite content that her fair fame should rest in his keeping. Now he was in danger. Whatever Lord Cloverton's aims might be, one thing was certain—the city gates were closed against Ellerey's departure. Without warning he would almost certainly be taken. How could she help him?
There was confusion at her door when the carriage stopped. Servants were in the hall expectantly awaiting her.
"What is it?" she asked.
"In your absence, Countess, we were powerless," answered her major-domo, pale even now with indignation. "The order was imperative."
"What order?"
"The order to search the house."
The Countess started, but was self-possessed again in a moment. Not all her servants knew of the identity of the Princess.