“Yes, the escort is here, certainly,” said Mr Wildsmith, in a voice of so much significance that Danaë looked round. Men and officers were gathered in little groups, talking eagerly, with no appearance of being on duty. “I would not trust them overmuch,” he added.
“But what has happened?” cried Danaë.
“Surely it is evident that there must have been a plot of some sort? The wretched man who attempted the Prince’s life is bound to have had accomplices——”
“Oh no, there was nothing of that kind. I knew him well. It was a private grudge. Please don’t let me keep you here. Really I would rather be left.”
“As you please. But remember that Lord Armitage and yourself, as British subjects, have a right to protection at the Consulate. If you find yourselves in danger, night or day, come or send to me at once.”
“You are very kind,” she repeated, in a bewildered voice, as he bowed and walked away. When the carriage had driven off, she became sensible of a great loneliness, for the surgeon departed also, to find a stretcher, as he said. The parade-ground seemed very large, the talking troopers incredibly distant, Armitage, still senseless at her feet, might have been in a different world. The sailor, who was still supporting him, growled something which she understood to be uncomplimentary to the escort, and the words seemed to clear her brain. Undoubtedly the cavalry were behaving scandalously, and must be recalled immediately to a sense of duty, and by her.
“Don’t leave him!” she said to the sailor, and receiving his gruff assurance, walked across the ravaged grass towards the troopers. As she neared them, she became aware that there were many more present than the twenty-five men who had accompanied her from the Palace—two hundred at least. They must have remained on the ground without orders when the review abruptly ended, and two or three officers of superior rank were haranguing group after group. It was too late to retreat now, and she marched boldly up to the nearest group.
“Have the goodness to detail four of your men to carry my husband to the Palace at once, Colonel, and a sufficient escort for his protection,” she said sharply.
The Colonel, a foreigner who in his day had served under many flags, looked at her with contemptuous amusement. “And who may the lady be who gives her orders so coolly?” he asked.
“The sister of your Prince,” she answered, the sonorous Greek flowing clearly from her lips. The soldiers were crowding round them now, and she had a feeling that events of importance depended upon the duel of words.