“I was sent to bring you at once to the Palace, my friend,” replied the other.
“What is amiss? Surely it is strange that I should receive a command at this hour!”
“Yes. But His Majesty works very late sometimes.”
“Is anything seriously wrong?”
“Not that I am aware of. I was simply summoned to the private cabinet, and His Majesty gave me that letter, and ordered me to find you at once,” and he took a cigarette from the silver box which Waldron handed him, and holding it in his white-gloved hand slowly lit it.
“Will you come with me now?” he asked as he cast away the match. “I’m awfully sorry to disturb you,” he added with a laugh. “But it is His Majesty’s orders.”
“Oh, don’t apologise,” was the diplomat’s reply. He was annoyed, for he knew what a sad gossip was Guicciolo, and that on the morrow half Rome would know that a young lady had been found in his rooms. At all hazards her identity must be concealed. Therefore, making an excuse to obtain his coat, Waldron passed into the dining-room where the Princess was standing in anxiety, whispered to her an explanation how he would have to leave unceremoniously and urging her to leave five minutes later.
“We will resume our conversation to-morrow,” he added. “But not here. It is far too dangerous.”
“Where then?” she asked eagerly in a low whisper. “I will meet you anywhere after dark.” He reflected a second. Then said:
“Do you know Bucci’s little restaurant in the Piazza delle Coppelle?”