“That is not of much importance, is it? Castellani already knows, for you’ve been to the Embassy.”
“But he will be silent. I’m here incognito,” the Marquis cried quickly, in a changed voice. “I have several matters with regard to Abyssinia and our foreign policy to settle with the British Government, but am procrastinating with an object. If they know yonder at the Foreign Office that I am in London, and have not called upon their Minister, it will be considered an insult, and may strain our relations with England. This we can’t afford to do. These English are useful to us. Italy has nothing to fear from the alliance of France and Russia, but nevertheless her only safe policy consists in a firm union with England. The Anglo-Italian naval alliance preserves the peace of Europe by throwing its weight into the scale against any disturber of tranquillity. We shall want English ships to fight and protect us in the Mediterranean when France invades us on the Tuscan shore.” Then, after a moment’s reflection, he glanced at the illuminated clock-face of Big Ben, and added, “No, I must leave London at once, for in this direction I see a pressing danger. It’s now nearly seven. I’ll dine and get away by the night-mail for Paris. I must be back in Rome again at the earliest possible moment.”
“Am I still to go to the Embassy?” she asked.
“Of course,” he answered quickly. “Don’t delay an instant. It is imperative that we should obtain that document, and you are the only person who can successfully accomplish the task. When you have done so bring it to me in Rome. Our safety lies in the expeditious way in which you effect this coup.”
“In Rome?” she echoed. “That’s impossible.”
“Why? With us everything is possible.”
“You forget that, owing to your absurd and foolish action a few months ago, I shall find myself arrested the moment I cross the frontier,” she answered.
“Ah, yes, I quite forgot,” he replied. “But that’s easily remedied.”
They were passing through the square of the Horse Guards at that moment, and halting beneath a lamp where stood a cavalry sentry motionless and statuesque, he took from his bulky wallet a visiting-card and scribbled a few words upon its back. Then, handing it to her, said—“This is your passport. If there is any difficulty in reaching me, present this.”
She took it, glanced at the scribbled words, and thrust it into her glove. Then, upon the wide pavement in Parliament Street, a few moments later, he lifted his hat politely, and they parted.