Chapter Thirty Two.
Through the Night.
A quarter of an hour passed, but the spy of Austria did not return.
Both Waldron and the detective stood in wonder near the door conversing in low whispers.
Nearly half an hour went by, and they could only hear Her Highness pacing the room in her mad despair. Yet Flobecq had not returned.
“Is it possible that he could have overheard my threat of vengeance!” exclaimed the Englishman to his companion. “Has he suspected that the conversation has been heard and left the hotel?”
“Madonna mia! He may have done, signore,” Pucci replied. “He is a most alert person.”
“Go out and make inquiry. I will remain here. He knows me.”
“He knows me also,” laughed the Italian. “I kept observation upon him once in Livorno, where he was conducting some negotiations regarding the purchase of plans of two of our battleships being built in Orlando’s yard. That is why I have recognised him. He scented danger on that occasion and fled.”
“Just as he has now done, I fear,” said Hubert. “Go quickly and make inquiries.”