She kissed him again in fond farewell. Outside in the great hall, which was famous for its fine marble columns and statuary, the man helped him on with his coat, while Claudia stood above upon the terrace of the upper hall, laughing gaily and wishing him “good-bye” as was her wont. Then he went forth in a dazed condition, walking along Knightsbridge in search of a passing hansom to take him down to the House.
As the door closed behind him when he emerged from the great portico into the foggy night, the short, dark figure of a rather thin man in a soft deer-stalker hat and dark overcoat slunk quickly out of the shadow of a doorway almost opposite, crossed the road, and hurried after him with laboured breath.
Of a sudden as Dudley, having gone a hundred yards or so, turned to glance behind him for an approaching cab, he came face to face with the fellow who, if the truth were told, had for nearly two hours been patiently awaiting his appearance.
“Pardon, signore!” exclaimed the black-haired, sharp-featured man, speaking with a decided Italian accent. He was somewhat taken aback by the abrupt termination of his rather clumsy efforts at espionage. “I beg the signore a thousand pardons, but may I be permitted to have a parolina (little word) with him?”
Chapter Twenty Five.
In which the Stranger states his Mission.
“Well, what do you want?” Chisholm inquired sharply, glancing keenly at the foreigner, and not approving of his appearance.
“I want a word with the signore,” the man who had accosted him answered, with an air almost of authority.