“What is it? Is she hurt? Has anything happened to her?” Cleek jumbled the three questions into one unbroken breath as he came running down the steps and caught at the superintendent’s arm. “Speak up! Don’t stand looking at me like a dumb thing! Is anything wrong with Miss Lorne?”
“Nothing—nothing at all.”
“Thank God! Then why? Why? For what reason has she sent for me? Where is she? Speak up!”
“In town. Waiting for you. At the Mauravanian embassy.”
“At the—Good God! How comes she to be there?”
“I took her. You told me if anything happened to you that I thought she ought to know—Please get in and let us be off, sir—Sire—whichever it ought to be. I don’t know the proper form of address. I’ve never had any personal dealings with royalty before.”
The hand that rested on his arm tightened its grip the very instant that word royalty passed his lips. Now it relaxed suddenly, dropped away, and he scarcely recognized the voice that spoke next, so unlike to Cleek’s it was, so thick was the tremulous note that pulsated through it.
“Royalty?” it repeated. “Speak up, please. What have you found out? What do you know of me that you make use of that term?”
“What everybody in the world will know by to-morrow. Count Irma has told! Count Irma has come, as the special envoy of the people, for Queen Karma’s son! For the King they want! For you!” flung out Narkom, getting excited as he proceeded. “It’s all out at last and—I know now. Everybody does. I’m to lose you. Mauravania is to take you from me after all. A palace is to have you—not the Yard. Get in, please, sir—Sire—your Majesty. Get in. They’re waiting for you at the embassy. Get in and go! Good luck to you! God bless you! I mean that. It’s just about going to break my heart, Cleek, but I mean it every word! Mind the step, Sire. Make room for me on the seat there, you two; and then off to the embassy as fast as you can streak it, Lennard. His Majesty is all ready to start.”
“Not yet, please,” a voice said quietly; then a hand reached out from the interior of the limousine, dropped upon Mr. Narkom’s shoulder and, tightening there, drew him over the step and into the car. “Your old seat, my friend. Here beside me. My memory is not a short one and my affections not fickle. All right now, Lennard. Let her go!”