“As to my purpose in leaving in this way, I will tell it you, in order that if anything happens, you may know in what direction to make a search for me. I am going to Vienna, to the Chevalier Goldberg.”
“That old Jew?” murmured Paschics in dismay.
“Precisely. He is the only man who can help us at this pinch, and I rather think he will. He has a way of flinging his money about without expecting any return that is quite picturesque. Five or six years ago he paid King Otto Georg’s debts, and so enabled him to marry. That was a free gift, but I don’t propose to ask him to repeat it. A loan without interest for three months will meet our present difficulty.”
“But to put yourself in the power of a Jew, Excellency!”
“My good Paschics, who is not in their power? I own that I should have been glad if any other expedient had offered itself, but this crisis calls for desperate remedies. If the Chevalier listens to me at all, he will keep the secret a good deal more honourably than many Christians would; and if he refuses to make or meddle in the matter, at least I shall have done all I can. But in either case no one must know.”
“But how does your Excellency intend to leave Bellaviste? You are aware that a guard of police is now stationed outside the house for the purpose of ensuring your safety?”
“I am. The noise they make would alone keep me from being unconscious of their presence. Well, if the worst comes to the worst, they must be squared; but they are quite capable of being squared by both sides, so that we must do our best to find a more hopeful way of getting out. By the way, Sir Egerton Stratford has not yet called to inquire for me, has he?”
“No, your Excellency. Baron Natarin is the only one of the foreign representatives who has come as yet, and he happened to be riding past when he heard of the attack made on you. He proffered his most cordial felicitations on your escape.”
“Yes; trust Natarin to do the right thing promptly, however bitter the pill may be to swallow,” said Cyril, more to himself than to the secretary. “Well, Paschics, if the British Minister calls, ask him to come in and see me. If he should happen to send one of the gentlemen belonging to the Legation instead of coming himself, you may intimate that I should be much obliged if Sir Egerton would pay me a visit, as I wish to confide an important document to his keeping. Be careful not to let the message be overheard. We don’t want the British Legation burnt down in the night, that M. Drakovics may lay hands on the document. You may let it be understood that there is considerable anxiety felt as to my condition, and that I am inclined to take a despondent view of it myself. One more thing—when you bring Sir Egerton in, step very softly.”
“At your Excellency’s orders,” said Paschics, as he departed, considerably exercised in mind by the directions he had received. When he was gone, Cyril sat down at his writing-table and wrote a long letter to Caerleon, after finishing which he took a fresh sheet of paper, and began to draw up a document of more formal appearance. Before he had come to the end of this, footsteps on the stairs announced the arrival of some visitor; but it seemed that Cyril did not hear them, for when Paschics gave an almost inaudible knock at the door, and entered the room noiselessly, he sprang up with a violent start.