“I have not told him that I intended to consult you.”
“But he may resent it—most naturally he will.”
“Probably. But surely you, as my personal and private agent, will take no heed. Remember that you are working on my behalf alone.”
“But I fear, sir, that he may endeavour to place obstacles in my way,” Waldron remarked.
“And if he does then report instantly to me. I will warn him at once that you are to be given every assistance. Indeed, if you require his services, he shall himself act under your instructions, for am I not Sovereign—and I tell you I intend at all hazards to know the truth regarding this dastardly theft!” cried His Majesty with some warmth.
“I will promise to do my very utmost towards that end,” was Hubert’s reply. “Your Majesty trusts me, and I will in return carry out the mission to the very best of my ability.”
“Those words of yours are all-sufficient for me,” replied the King, rising and gripping his visitor’s hand. “Do your best. Leave no stone unturned, Waldron, and spare no expense on my behalf. Report to me frequently, as I shall be full of anxiety until this matter is cleared up. Count del Grillo will admit you to private audience at any hour. I will give him instructions. Go,” the monarch added. “Do your best on my behalf, and may every good fortune attend you. Upon your efforts will mean the averting of a long and disastrous war. Addio!”
And he again pressed the diplomat’s hand.
The latter bowed low, and with a repeated promise backed out of the royal presence, closing the door after him.
And carrying with him the secret of Italy’s peril, he descended the great marble staircase, where at the foot stood the two gorgeous flunkeys in the royal livery who bowed low as he passed out.