In such case what explanation could he give without telling absolute lies? Besides, did not His Majesty repose the utmost confidence in him, and that confidence must assuredly be shaken.
Absolutely helpless he stood gazing upon her prostrate figure and trying in vain to seek a solution of the difficulty.
If she would only regain consciousness in order that he could ring the bell and leave her. But, alas! she was insensible, and no amount of water upon her face would revive her. Of smelling-salts or other restoratives there were none. So he was compelled to remain there inactive and impatient.
What could be the nature of the message she had received from that man who, though a Frenchman, was posing in Brussels as Slavo Petrovitch, a Servian from Belgrade? It must have been a most disquieting one to have so upset her as to cause her to faint. A girl who knew no fear, who was naturally athletic and strong-minded, who drove her car through the night alone and unattended, and who, travelling to the north incognita, had won a motor-cycle race, was not the sort of person to faint at any news which did not gravely concern herself.
Was it possible, he wondered, that Henri Pujalet had written abandoning her?
That was the impression which forced itself upon him. The Frenchman certainly could not know her real title and position. Pujalet no doubt believed, as he himself had believed, that Lola was a poor dependent. Hence it was quite probable that he had met some other woman and in favour of her had abandoned Lola.
Yet, as he stood there wondering he recollected the love-scene that hot stifling night beneath the palms in the far-off Sudan, how her lover had held her so passionately to his breast and smothered her face with his kisses. And how she, too, had stroked his cheeks tenderly with both her soft hands.
Yes. They, no doubt, loved each other, and perhaps, after all, he was misjudging that man to whom she had given her affection.
Thoughts of Beatriz, too, flashed across his mind. How different was the pale recumbent figure in white to that dashing Andalusian dancer!
He dropped upon one knee at the side of the couch, looked intently upon the white unconscious countenance, and held his breath.