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The Lost Ambassador written by E. Phillips Oppenheim

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"No answer, sir," he announced presently. "I believe that they are
out."

Almost as he spoke I saw through the windows of the hair-dresser's
shop a familiar figure entering the hotel. I left Ashley hurriedly,
and in a moment I was face to face with Felicia. She gave a little cry
when she saw me, and it was a joy to me to realize that it was a cry
of pleasure.

"Capitaine Rotherby!" she exclaimed. "You!"

She gave me her hands with an impetuous little movement. I held them
tightly in mine.

"I want to speak to you at once," I said. "Where can we go?"

"Madame is out for an hour," she said. "We could go in the little
smoking-room. But have you forgotten your promise?"

"Never mind about that, Felicia," I whispered. "Something has
happened. I went first to see your uncle, but I could not find him. I
must talk with you. Come!"

We walked together across the hall, through the end of the cafe, down
which she threw one long, anxious glance, and entered the little
smoking-room. It was empty except for one man writing letters. I led
the way into the most remote corner, and wheeled out an easy-chair.

"Felicia," I said, "if I can get a special license, will you marry me
to-morrow?"




CHAPTER XXXIII

FELICIA HESITATES


Felicia looked at me for a moment with wide-open eyes. Then a little
stream of color rushed into her cheeks, her lips slowly parted, and
she laughed, not altogether without embarrassment.

"Capitaine Rotherby," she said, "you must not say such things--so
suddenly!"

"Last time we met," I reminded her, "you called me Austen."

"Austen, then, if I must," she said. "You know very well that you
should not be here. You are breaking a promise. It is very, very nice
to see you," she continued. "Indeed, I do feel that. But I am
afraid!"

"I have sufficient reasons for breaking my promise, dear," I said,
taking her hand in mine. "I will explain them to you by and by. In the
meantime, please answer my question."

"You are serious, then?" she asked, looking at me with wide-open eyes,
and lips which quivered a little--whether with laughter or emotion I
could not tell.

"I am serious," I answered. "You want taking care of, Felicia, and I
am quite sure that I should be the best person in the world to do it."

Her eyes fell before mine. She seemed to be studying the point of her
long patent shoe. As usual she was dressed delightfully, in a light
fawn-colored tailor-made gown and a large black hat. Nevertheless she
seemed to me to be thinner and frailer than when I had first seen
her--too girlish, almost, for her fashionable clothes.

"Do you think that you would take care of me?" she said softly. "I am
afraid I am a very ignorant little person. I do not know much about
England or English ways, and every one says that things are so
different here."

"There is one thing," I declared, "which is the same all the world
over, and that is that when two people care for one another, the world
becomes not such a very difficult place to live in, Felicia. I wonder
if you could not try and care a little for me?"

"I do," she murmured, without looking up.

"Enough?" I asked.

She sighed. Suddenly she raised her eyes, and I saw things there which
amazed me. They were no longer the eyes of a frightened child. I was
thrilled with the passion which seemed somehow or other to have been
born in their deep blue depths.

"Dear Austen," she said, "I think that I care quite enough. But
listen. How can I say, 'Yes,' to you? Always my uncle has been kind,
in his way. I know now that he is worried, harassed to death, afraid,
even, of what may happen hour by hour. I could not leave him. He would
think that I had lost faith, that I had gone over to his enemies."

"Felicia dear," I said, "I do not wish to be the enemy of any one who
is your friend. Indeed, your uncle and his doings mean so little to
me. If they are honest, I might be able to help him. If he is engaged
in transactions of which he is ashamed, then it is time that you were
taken away."

"I will never believe that," she declared.

"Felicia," I said, "I will tell you why I have broken my promise and
come to London. I believe I told you that I had a brother out in
Brazil?"

"Yes!" she answered,--"Dicky, you called him."

"He wrote, you know, and said that he had been staying with the
Deloras on their estate, and he begged that I should call upon your
uncle here. Now I have had a cable from him. Felicia, there is
something wrong. You shall read the cable for yourself."

I gave it to her. She read it word by word. Then she read it again,
aloud, very softly to herself, and finally gave it back to me.

"I do not understand," she whispered. "I do not know why my uncle has
not communicated with his brother."

"I am beginning to believe, Felicia," I said, "that I know more than
you. I tell you frankly I believe that your uncle has kept silence
because he is not honestly carrying out the business on which he was
sent to England. Tell me exactly, will you? When did he arrive from
America?"

She shook her head.

"Austen," she said, "you know there were some things which I promised
to keep silent about, and this is one."

"At any rate," I said, half to myself, "he could not have been in
Paris more than three weeks. I do not understand how in that three
weeks he could have obtained such a hold upon you that you should come
here and do his bidding blindly, although you must know that some of
the things he does are extraordinary and mysterious."

She was obviously distressed.

"There is something," she said, "of course, which I am not telling
you,--something which I promised to keep secret. But, Austen," she
went on, laying her fingers upon my coat sleeve, "let me tell you
this. I am getting more and more worried every day. I understand
nothing. The explanations which I have had from my uncle grow more and
more extraordinary. Why we are here, why he is still in hiding, why he
lives in the shadow of such fear day by day, I cannot imagine. I am
beginning to lose heart. Through the telephone last night I told him
that I must see him. He has half promised that I shall, to-day or
to-morrow. I shall tell him, Austen, that I must know more about the
reasons for all this mystery, or I will go back to Madame
Quintaine's. I wrote to her soon after I came here, when I was
frightened, and she told me that she would gladly have me back. My
uncles have always paid her a good deal of money," she went on, "for
taking care of me."

I drew a long breath of relief.

"Felicia," I said, "you are talking like a dear, sensible little
woman. But," I added, "you have not answered my question!"

She looked away, laughing.

"Of course you are not in earnest!" she exclaimed.

"Of course I am!" I persisted.

"You must know," she said softly, "that I could not do a thing like
that. My uncle has always been so kind to me--"

"But you have only seen him three weeks," I interrupted. "Before that
he was in Brazil!"

She was silent for several moments.

"Well," she said, "even if it were so, he could be very kind to me,
couldn't he, even if he was in Brazil and I was in Paris? You see, my
father was the poor one of the family, who died without any money at
all, yet I have always had everything in the world I want, and when I
come of age they are going to give me a great sum of money. It is not
that I think about," she went on, "but they write to me always, and
they treat me as though I were their own daughter. Often they have
said how they would love to have had me out in Brazil. I think that it
is really their own kindness that they let me stay in Paris."

"Felicia," I said, "tell me really how much you do know of your
uncle--the one who is with you now?"

She shook her head.

"No!" she said. "I cannot do that. I made a promise and I must keep
it. But I will promise you this, if you like. If I find that it is not
the truth which I have been told I will come to you if you want me."

I held her hands tightly in mine.

"You are beginning to have doubts, are you not?" I asked.

"Oh, I don't know!" she answered. "I don't know! There are times when
I am frightened. Austen, I must go now."

I looked at the clock. It was almost two o'clock.

"We couldn't have lunch together, I suppose?" I asked.

She shook her head, laughing.

"I had lunch more than an hour ago," she said, "and I have to meet
madame at a dress-maker's. I must go, really, Austen."

"Can't I see you again, dear?"

"I will come into this room, if I can, about five," she said. "Don't
come out with me now. It is the luncheon time in the cafe, and I am
afraid of Louis."

She flitted away, leaving behind a faint odor of violets shaken from
the skirts she had lifted so daintily as she had hurried down the few
steps. I watched her out of sight. Then I opened the door myself and
passed out into the cafe....

Louis, for the first few minutes, was not visible, but one of the
other _maitres d'hotel_ procured for me a table in a somewhat
retired corner of the room. My luncheon was already served before
Louis appeared before me. For the second time his impassive
countenance seemed to be disturbed.

"Back in London, Captain Rotherby," he remarked, with the ghost of his
usual welcoming smile.

"Back again, Louis," I answered cheerfully.

Louis bent over my table.

"I thought," he said, "that an English gentleman never broke his
promise!"

"Nor does he, Louis," I answered, "unless the circumstances under
which it was given themselves change. I came up from the country this
morning."

"Upon private business?" Louis asked.

"No!" I answered. "Upon the business in which you and Mr. Delora are
both interested. Did you know, Louis, that I had a brother in Brazil?"

"What of it, monsieur?" Louis asked sharply.

For once I had the best of matters. Louis was evidently in a highly
nervous state, from which I imagined that things connected with their
undertaking, whatever it might be, had reached a critical stage. There
were lines underneath his eyes, and he looked about him every now and
then nervously.

"My brother," I remarked, "first wrote to me to be sure and look up
Mr. Delora, and to be civil to him. I have done this to the best of my
ability!"

Louis frowned.

"Go on," he said.

"Last night," I continued, speaking very deliberately, "my brother who
is in London rang me up in Norfolk. He told me that he had just
received a cable from Dicky concerning Mr. Delora. It was at his
earnest request that I came to London this morning. By the bye,
Louis," I added, "I think that I should like some _Riz Diane_."

Louis looked for a moment as though he were about to consign my
innocent desire for _Riz Diane_ to the bottommost depths. The
effort with which he recovered himself was really magnificent. He drew
a long breath, and bowed his acquiescence.

"By all means, monsieur!"

He called to a waiter, and was particular in his instructions as to my
order. Then he turned back to me.

"Monsieur," he said, "you will tell me what was in that cable?"

"I think not, Louis," I answered. "You see I really cannot recognize
you in this matter at all. I must find Mr. Delora at once. It is
important."

"But if he cannot be found?" Louis asked quickly.

"Then I think that the best thing I can do," I continued, after a
moment's pause, "is to call at the Brazilian embassy."

I had a feeling, the feeling for a moment that, notwithstanding the
crowded room and Louis' attitude of polite attention, my life was in
danger. There flashed something in his eyes indescribably venomous. I
seemed to see there his intense and passionate desire to sweep me from
the face of the earth.

"Of course," I continued, "if I can find Mr. Delora, that is what I
would really prefer. There is a certain matter upon which I must have
an explanation from him."

"Monsieur will not have finished his luncheon for twenty minutes or
so," Louis said calmly. "At the end of that time I will return."

"Always glad to have a chat with you, Louis," I declared.

"You will not leave," he asked, "before I come back?"

"Not if you return in a reasonable time," I answered.

Louis bowed and hurried off. I saw him disappear for a moment into the
service room. When he came out into the restaurant he was once more
discharging his duties, moving about amongst his clients, supervising,
suggesting, bidding farewell to departing guests, and welcoming new
arrivals. A very busy man, Louis, for the cafe was crowded that day. I
wondered, as I saw him pass backwards and forwards, with that eternal
and yet not displeasing smile upon his lips, what lay at the back of
his head concerning me!




CHAPTER XXXIV

AN APPOINTMENT WITH DELORA


My _Riz Diane_ duly arrived, but was served, I noticed, by a
different waiter. It looked very tempting, and it was indeed a dish of
which I was particularly fond, but I realized that it had been
specially ordered by Louis, and with a sigh I pushed it on one side. I
finished my luncheon with rolls and butter, and took care to procure
my coffee before Louis returned.

"Well," I asked, as he stopped once more before me, "what is it to be?
Are you going to give me Delora's address?"

"That is not the trouble, monsieur," Louis declared. "Mr. Delora is
away from London."

"I think you will find that he is back again, Louis," I answered. "It
was a very interesting trip to Newcastle, but it was soon over. He
arrived in London with his illustrious companion last night."

This time I had really astonished Louis! He looked at me with a
genuine expression of profound surprise.

"You are under the impression," he said slowly, "that Mr. Delora has
been to Newcastle!"

"That is scarcely the way I look at it, Louis," I answered. "You see I
was in Newcastle myself and saw him."

I fancy that Louis' manner toward me, from this time onward, acquired
a new respect, but I recognized the fact that there was danger greater
than ever before under his increasing suaveness.

"Captain Rotherby," he said, "you were not meant to be an idle
man. You have gifts of which you should make use!"

"In the meantime," I said, "when can I see Mr. Delora?"

"This afternoon, if you like," Louis answered. "Here is his address."

He scribbled a few words down on a piece of paper and passed it to
me. When I had received it I did not like it. It was an
out-of-the-way street in Bermondsey, in a quarter of which I was
absolutely ignorant except by repute.

"Couldn't we arrange, don't you think, Louis," I asked, "to have
Mr. Delora come up here?"

"You could send down a note and ask him," Louis answered. "He is
staying at that address under the name of Hoffmeyer."

"I will write him a letter," I decided, signing my bill.

"You will let me know the result?" Louis asked, looking at me
anxiously.

"Certainly," I answered.

I rose to my feet, but Louis did not immediately stand aside.

"Captain Rotherby," he said, "there is one thing I should like to ask
you. How did you know of Mr. Delora's projected visit to Newcastle?"

I smiled.

"Why should I give away my methods, Louis?" I said. "You know very
well that the movements of Mr. Delora have become very interesting to
me. You and I are on opposite sides. I certainly do not feel called
upon to disclose my sources of information."

I passed out of the restaurant, and ascended to my own room. There I
drew a sheet of paper toward me and wrote.

DEAR SIR,

I trust you will recognize the fact that although I am writing to
you from London, and from the Milan Hotel, I have not
intentionally broken the compact I made with you. The fact is, a
somewhat singular thing has occurred. My brother--Mr. Richard
Rotherby--whom you will doubtless remember, and who speaks most
gratefully of your hospitality in Brazil, has sent me a cable on
behalf of your brother--Mr. Nicholas Delora. It seems that you
have not kept him acquainted with your doings here, and that you
have failed to make use of a certain cipher that was agreed
upon. He is, therefore, exceedingly anxious to know of your
doings, and has begged me to see you at once and report. Will you,
for that purpose, be good enough to grant me a five minutes'
interview?

Sincerely yours,

AUSTEN ROTHERBY.

I sealed this letter, and addressed it to the very obscure street in
Bermondsey which Louis had designated. Then I procured a messenger boy
and sent it off, with instructions that the bearer must wait for an
answer. Afterwards there was little for me to do but wait. I tried to
see Felicia, but I only succeeded in having the door of her rooms
practically slammed in my face by Madame Muller. I was too anxious
for a reply to my letter to go round to the club, so I simply hung
about the place, smoking and waiting. When at last the messenger boy
came back, however, it was only to report a certain amount of failure.
He had found the right address and delivered the note, but the
gentleman was out, and not expected in till the evening. After this, I
went round to my club, leaving an order that any note or message was
to be sent after me. I cut into a rubber of bridge, but I had
scarcely finished my second game before a telegram was brought in for
me, sent on from the Milan. I tore it open. It was from Delora.

Have received your note. Will see you at this address ten o'clock
this evening.

I thrust the telegram into my waistcoat pocket and finished the
rubber. Soon afterwards I cut out and took a hansom round to
Claridge's Hotel. I found my brother in and expecting to hear from me.

"Ralph," I said, "I can't bring you any news just now. If you must
cable Dicky, you had better just cable that we are making inquiries. I
have an appointment to see Delora at ten o'clock to-night."

"Where is he?" Ralph asked, with interest.

"The address he has sent me is some low street in Bermondsey," I
answered. "It is absolutely impossible that he should have chosen such
a place to stop in except as a hiding-place. I don't like the look of
it, Ralph."

"Then don't go," Ralph said quickly. "There is no need for you to run
into danger for nothing at all."

"I am not afraid of that," I answered. "What really bothers me is that
I am up against a problem which seems insoluble. Frankly, I don't
believe a snap of the fingers in Delora. No man, however secret or
important his business might be, would descend to such subterfuges.
The only point in his favor is that this dodging about may be all due
to political reasons. I cannot understand his friendship with the
Chinese ambassador."

"Can't you?" Ralph answered. "I have been thinking over what you told
me, Austen, and I fancy, perhaps, I can give you a hint. Do you know
that at the present moment the two most powerful battleships in the
world are being built on the Tyne for Brazil?"

"I know that," I admitted. "Go on."

"What does Brazil want with battleships of that class?" my brother
continued. "Obviously they would be useless to her. She could not man
them. It would be a severe strain to her finances even to put them
into commission. I am of opinion that the order to build them was
given as a speculation by a few shrewd men in the Brazilian Government
who foresaw unsettled times ahead, and they are there to be disposed
of to the highest European or Asiatic bidder!"

I saw Ralph's point at once.

"By Jove!" I exclaimed. "You think, then, that Delora is over here to
arrange for the sale of them to some other Government--presumably to
China?"

"Why not?" Ralph asked. "It is feasible, and to some extent it
explains a good deal of what has seemed to you so mysterious. There
could be no more possible purchaser of the battleships than China,
except, perhaps, Russia, and transactions of that sort are always
attended with a large amount of secrecy."

"Of course, if you are on the right track," I admitted, "everything is
explained, and Delora is justified. There is just one thing which I do
not understand, and that is why he should have associated with such a
pack of thieves as the people at the Cafe des Deux Epingles, and why
he should be forced to make an ally--I had almost said accomplice--of
Louis."

"Well, you can't understand everything all at once," Ralph
answered. "At the same time, if I were you, I would try and see if the
hint I have given you fits in with the rest of the puzzle."

"I'll get the truth out of Delora to-night!" I declared. "And, Ralph!"

"Well?" he asked.

"I have asked Felicia Delora to marry me," I continued.

Ralph looked at me for a moment, doubtfully.

"Wouldn't it have been better to have had this matter cleared up
first?" he asked.

"I couldn't help it," I answered. "The child is all alone, and it
makes my heart ache to think what a poor little pawn she is in the
game these men are playing. I'd like to take her right away from it,
Ralph, but she is staunch. She fancies that she is indebted to her
uncle, and she will obey his orders."

"You can't think any the worse of her for that," Ralph remarked.

"I don't," I answered, sighing, "but it makes the position a little
difficult."

"Come and see me to-morrow morning," Ralph said, "and tell me exactly
what passes between you and Delora. We must cable Dicky some time
soon."

"I will," I promised, taking up my hat. "Good-day, Ralph!"




CHAPTER XXXV

A NARROW ESCAPE


I felt that night an unusual desire to take all possible precautions
before leaving the Milan for Bermondsey. I wrote a letter explaining
my visit and my suspicions, and placed it in Ashley's hands.

"Look here, Ashley," I said, "I am going off on an errand which I
don't feel quite comfortable about. Between you and me, it is
connected with the disappearance of Miss Delora's uncle. I feel that
it is likely, even probable, that I shall get into trouble, and I want
you to promise me this. If I am not back here by half-past eleven, I
want you to take this letter, which contains a full statement of
everything, to Scotland Yard. Either take it yourself," I continued,
"or send some one absolutely trustworthy with it."

The man looked a little serious.

"Very good, sir," he said. "I'll attend to it. At the same time, if I
might make the suggestion, I should take a couple of plain-clothes
policemen with me. It's a pretty low part where you are going, and one
hears of queer doings, nowadays."

"I am bound to go, Ashley," I answered, "but I am not likely to come
to much grief. I have a revolver in my pocket, and I have not studied
boxing with Baxter for nothing. I don't fancy there's anything in
Bermondsey going to hurt me."

"I hope not, sir," Ashley answered civilly. "At half-past eleven, if I
do not hear from you, I shall go myself to Scotland Yard."

I nodded.

"And in the meantime," I said, "a taxicab, if you please."

I drove to the address given me on the paper. It was an odd,
half-forgotten street, terminating in a _cul-de-sac,_ and not far
from the river. The few houses it contained were larger than the
majority of those in the neighborhood, but were in a shocking state of
repair. The one at which I eventually stopped had a timber yard
adjoining, or rather attached to it. I left the taxicab outside, and
made my somewhat uncertain way up to the front door. Only a few yards
from me a great black dog was straining at his collar and barking
furiously. I was somewhat relieved when the door was opened
immediately at my knock.

"Is Mr. Hoffmeyer staying here?" I asked.

A little old man carrying a tallow candle stuck into a cheap
candlestick nodded assent, and closed the door after me. I noticed,
without any particular pleasure, that he also drew the bolts.

"What do you do that for?" I asked sharply. "I shall only be here a
few minutes. It is not worth while locking up."

The man looked at me but said nothing. He seemed to show neither any
desire nor any ability for speech. Only as I repeated my question he
nodded slowly as one who barely understands.

"Mr. Hoffmeyer is in his room," he said. "He will be glad to see you."

I followed him along as miserable a passage as ever I saw in my
life. The walls were damp, and the paper hung down here and there in
long, untidy patches. The ceiling was barely whitewashed; the stairs
by which we passed were uncarpeted. The whole place had a most
dejected and weary appearance. Then he showed me into a small
sitting-room, in which one man sat writing at a table. He looked up as
I entered. It was Delora.

"Well," he said, "so this is how you keep your promise!"

"Something has happened since then," I answered. "I have received a
cable from my brother which we do not understand."

"A cable from your brother in Brazil?" he asked slowly.

"Yes!" I answered.

Delora turned slowly in his chair and rose to his feet. He was tall
and gaunt. His face was lined. He had somehow or other the appearance
of a man who is driven to bay. Yet there was something splendid about
the way he nerved himself to listen to me with indifference.

"What does he say--your brother?"

"The cable is inspired by Nicholas Delora," I answered. "Listen, and
I will read it to you."

I read it to him word by word. When I had finished he simply nodded.

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