Chapter Forty.
Gives a Clue.
That afternoon, at as early an hour as he decently could, he called at the British Legation, the big white mansion in the centre of the town. Both Sir Charles Harrison, the Minister, and his charming wife were well-known to him, for more than once he had been invited to dine on previous visits to Belgrade.
The Minister was out, but Lady Harrison received him in the big drawing-room on the first floor, a handsome apartment filled with exquisite Japanese furniture and bric-à-brac, for, prior to his appointment to Belgrade, the Minister had been Secretary of the British Embassy in Tokio.
The first greetings over, Charlie explained the object of his call. Whereupon the Minister’s wife replied:
“I think Mr Pashitch is mistaken, Mr Rolfe. I haven’t seen Maud Petrovitch for quite a year. She was on a visit to her aunt, Madame Constantinovitch, about a year ago, and used to come here very often.”
Charlie’s hopes fell again.
“Perhaps the Minister-President has made a mistake. It may have been at some other house Madame Pashitch met the Doctor’s daughter,” he said.
“Well, if she were in Belgrade she surely would come to see me. All her friends come to me on Thursdays, as you know,” replied the Minister’s wife, as the man brought in tea—with lemon—in the Russian style.
He glanced around the handsome room, and recollected the brilliant receptions at which he had been present. The British Legation was one of the finest mansions in Belgrade, and Sir Charles gave weekly dinners to the diplomatic corps and his personal friends. He and his wife entertained largely, to keep up the prestige of Great Britain amid that seething area of intrigue, political conspiracy, and general unrest.