“Nobody, signore. I will swear that as a soldier of Italy, before His Majesty my King—if necessary.”
Chapter Fifteen.
Behind the Throne.
After Hubert Waldron had left the corporal of Bersiglieri he entertained a distinct feeling that His Excellency the General knew more of the theft than he had admitted.
On his return to the Minister’s private cabinet he found His Excellency in consultation with his secretary, Pironti, a tall, thin-faced, black-haired man, with whom he presently held a long discussion regarding the theft. The secretary of the Council of Defence was also called, and the quartette sat for nearly an hour putting forward various theories as to how the documents could have been extracted. Up to the present it was a dead secret. But how long it would remain so was a question.
“Secrecy is all-important,” Waldron declared at last. “We must allow no word of this to leak out. It is His Majesty’s express command.”
“That sentry may possibly gossip,” remarked His Excellency, drawing slowly at his cigar stump, for he smoked perpetually.
“I have already impressed upon him the necessity for silence,” replied Waldron.