“Oh yes, yes; let us come this moment. Usk or Mr Mansfield will help us.”
But Usk was the centre of a group of laughing Greek girls, who were teaching him to pronounce their language properly, and Mansfield, having failed to get a word with Philippa all evening, had wandered away disconsolately with Mr Judson. Even Mr Hicks, engrossed in subjecting a Latin bishop to an informal interview, was so busy that Philippa could not catch his eye.
“There is only that elderly officer who belongs to your suite, madame, that I can see,” she said, hurrying back to the Queen.
“Banics? Oh, fetch him—he can be trusted.”
Philippa obeyed, and Ernestine addressed the astonished General with feverish eagerness. “Find us a carriage, Banics. I must go at once to Count Mortimer’s lodgings—at once, at once.”
“At this hour, madame? Allow me to request his Excellency to wait upon you instead,” was the sole protest General Banics permitted himself, but his mistress waved it aside wildly.
“You will kill me with all this delay! Find a carriage quickly. I tell you we must go at once.”
He hurried out, and Philippa wrapped the Queen in a dark cloak, drawing the hood over her head. They stood waiting breathlessly until General Banics reappeared, having taken forcible possession of the first carriage he came across. It belonged to a private individual, but a bakhshish to the servants, added to the awe-inspiring effect of the General’s uniform and his manner, enabled him to hire it for a short time, and he helped the ladies in and took his seat upon the box in disapproving silence. A short drive, during which the Queen and Philippa held each other’s hands in an agony of fear, brought them to the Hebrew quarter. To Philippa’s intense relief, although she could hardly have told why she felt relieved, the door of Cyril’s Jewish host stood open, and the porter was lounging on the threshold talking to a friend, so that the commotion usually needed before entrance could be obtained was not called for. Earlier in the day, Philippa and her parents had partaken of coffee with the family, in a scene that might have come straight from the pages of ‘Tancred,’ but now every one was away at the consuls’ entertainment, with the exception of the aged grandfather, who was roused from his slumbers by the servants, and came forth blinking and bewildered. Fortunately he recognised Philippa, but precious time passed while he lamented the unfitness of his poor house to receive the exalted young lady, wringing his hands the while. She cut him short at last in desperation.
“I must see my uncle at once, please. It is most important that this lady should speak to him. No, no; you are not to say that we are here!”
Fairly dashing past the servants, who were already starting off to announce her presence, she dragged the Queen in the direction of the staircase which led to Cyril’s rooms on the upper floor, leaving the old man still wringing his hands and murmuring feebly something about coffee. No one guessed who the elder woman was who followed Philippa so closely as she crossed the courtyard, although General Banics thought it well to station himself at the foot of the staircase, in case curiosity should be roused as to her identity. Entering the passage from which the rooms opened, the two ladies were confronted by the valet Dietrich, who appeared to have been placidly smoking a huge pipe in the dark.