The wire was sent, they had some hot drinks and sandwiches at the buffet, and an hour later set off once more.
“It is a misfortune, this,” said Marie Lou. “We shall not now be able to meet our friends when they arrive in Warsaw.”
“That’s true,” Richard agreed, but he said no more. He had not told Marie Lou that there was no prospect of their meeting their friends anywhere in the immediate future.
Richard was dog tired. It was by far the longest flight he had ever made in one day, but his new ’plane was going splendidly. He thanked the Lord that he had run her in before he left England, and settled down gamely to the last lap. Marie Lou slept most of the way, and had to be awakened when they arrived at last at Vienna.
“Hullo, Dickybird? You’re a fine fellow, keeping a lad from his hard-earned rest till this hour in the morning,” came a voice from the darkness as Richard was helping Marie Lou to alight.
“Hallo, Gerry.” Richard heaved a sigh of relief at finding that his friend was there to meet them. “I’m glad they didn’t pull you out of bed,” he added, as he noticed that Bruce was still in evening dress.
“No, I’ve been to a party, my ancient auk — didn’t get your wire till I got in. What’s the trouble?”
Richard explained as briefly as possible.
The tall, gaunt diplomat loomed over him in the darkness.
“My giddy aunt — you are a lad. Can’t you find enough trouble among the young women in London without picking up bits in Bolsheville?”