“In this room,” the diplomat replied quickly, opening a door which led to his small dining-room. He switched on the light, and she passed within, closing the door noiselessly. It was all done in a few seconds, and then Hubert said in his natural voice:
“Oh, show him in.”
Next moment a tall, good-looking, dark-moustached officer, wearing his grey military cloak, entered jauntily, saying in Italian with a merry twinkle in his eyes as he grasped the other’s hand:
“Sorry to disturb you at this hour, friend Waldron—especially when you have a lady visitor.”
“Lady visitor! What do you mean?” he asked, for Count Guicciolo was an old friend of many years.
“Well, your man told me that you could not be disturbed, so I naturally formed my own conclusions,” replied the aide-de-camp airily, pointing to the muff. “But I apologise. Here is a message for you from His Majesty. I was to deliver it into your hands,” and from beneath his cloak he produced a letter which upon the flap bore the neat royal cipher of the House of Savoy.
In surprise the diplomat broke the seal and read the following formal words:
“His Majesty the King commands to private audience the Honourable Hubert Waldron, M.V.O., this evening and immediately,” followed by the date.
Hubert noticed the neat handwriting. It had been penned by His Majesty King Umberto himself.
“Well!” he asked the Count.