Frina Mavrodin departed full of thanks and wreathed in gracious smiles. When she had gone, the King and the Ambassador looked inquiringly at each other.
"I think your suspicions were unfounded, my lord," the King said.
"I missed the centre of the target, your Majesty, but I believe I aimed at the right mark. She is a clever woman; I admire her more every day."
Lord Cloverton spoke the truth; he did admire her. Like all great men, he was quick to recognize the sterling worth of his adversaries, and it was borne in upon him more and more that in this crisis he had a clever and beautiful woman to deal with, and what antagonist could be more powerful? He began to rearrange his thoughts upon this basis, passed in review all the seemingly trivial incidents with which Frida Mavrodin had been connected, and found many new meanings in them. The possibility that her influence might be paramount in Sturatzberg dawned upon him. Such a subtle power at work would explain many things, and the Ambassador determined to watch her more closely than ever.
All that day search was made for Captain Ellerey throughout the city. Many places, known to be haunts of the dissatisfied, were entered, but were innocent of even the appearance of evil. There were too many ready to bear warning for such places to be taken unawares. But no other houses of such importance as the Countess Mavrodin's were disturbed. There was no result. No one had seen Captain Ellerey; indeed, few people appeared to know him, or to have heard of him. This Lord Cloverton did not believe. He thought he recognized Frina Mavrodin's influence at work in such ignorance.
It was on the following day that Monsieur De Froilette called at the
Embassy, and was shown into Lord Cloverton's room. With this new train
of thought in his mind, the Frenchman's importance in the politics of
Wallaria appeared to sink into insignificance.
"You are welcome, monsieur. Is this a friendly visit or—"
"Friendly, certainly, but something more," De Froilette answered. He had not come to the Embassy without due deliberation. He had had an audience with the Queen that morning, and there was something in her tone which decided him to make his own interests doubly secure by giving help to the British Ambassador—such help that might count for much when the time for settling accounts came, but which should not materially hasten that time.
"I had begun to think you had forgotten your promise," said Lord
Cloverton, "News of Captain Ellerey would be very useful to—to the
Government of this country. You had a servant watching him, I think."
There was something resembling the Queen's tone in the Ambassador's—a want of appreciation of his position and importance.