His Majesty was passing through the Sala Regia alone, and there was nobody in the vicinity to overhear.
“Nothing, sir—only—”
“Only what? Quick,” he said impatiently. “It is rumoured in Brussels that Austria is mobilising for attack!”
“In Brussels!” exclaimed the King as they walked together. “How do you know that?”
“I have to-night returned from there.”
“Curious—very curious,” repeated His Majesty reflectively. “Here, as far as I know, we have heard nothing. Ghelardi’s agents in Vienna report by telegraph several times daily, but they can obtain no definite information, though it is known that troops are massing in the south—for manoeuvres—the old story.”
“I am still inquiring into the affair,” said Waldron. “As soon as I have anything to report I will seek audience of Your Majesty.”
“Yes; at any hour. I have instructed Villanova.”
“I have not spoken about the matter to Ghelardi,” the Englishman said as they left the great salon and turned into one of the corridors. Several men and women had halted to bow as His Majesty passed.
“Ghelardi has discovered nothing,” was the King’s hasty response. “He has all sorts of wild theories regarding the theft of the plans, but as far as I can see he has no clue whatever to the thief.”