Her Royal Highness Part 14

The portrait was that of Lola!

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

STRICTLY INCOGNITA.

That afternoon at half-past three o'clock, the hour when in winter all Rome goes out for its airing on the Pincio, Hubert Waldron was idling along the terrace, gazing at the wonderful panorama of the Eternal City stretched away before him in the yellow sundown.

In Rome it is the correct thing to go to the Pincio, and there pay visits to the Roman ladies who sit in their smart carriages or automobiles as they slowly file up the historic hill and down on the other side. There, in those famous gardens of Lucullus, in which in ancient days Messalina, the wife of Claudius, celebrated her orgies, modern Rome daily holds its daily alfresco reception, for everybody who is anybody in the capital goes there to see and to be seen.

Hubert had been chatting with the Baroness Lanzenhofen, an Austrian hostess very popular in Rome, but her carriage had moved on, and now he stood alone near the kerb looking out upon the wonderful view, and about to descend to the city and drive back in a taxi to his rooms in the Via n.a.z.ionale.

Behind him a procession of smart equipages of all kinds filed slowly around the terrace, when of a sudden he heard an excited cry--his name:

"Signor Waldron! Signor Waldron!"

Turning in sudden surprise, he found himself face to face with Lola who, seated alone in one of the royal carriages--a splendid landau bearing the arms of Savoy upon its panels, a footman and coachman in the royal livery and powdered hair--was smiling at him mischievously.

He raised his hat and advancing eagerly took the little white-gloved hand outstretched to him, for the carriage had already pulled up, the fine pair of bays champing impatiently at their bits.

"Well!" he cried. "This is really a great surprise!"

"Yes. I heard that you had been transferred here from Madrid," she laughed, speaking in English. "But oh! I've got lots to explain. I want to see you, Mr Waldron--to see you very particularly. I came here this afternoon to find out if you were here. May I call on you this evening? I know where you live, in the Via n.a.z.ionale. When will you be at home?"

He was rather taken aback. Ever since his discovery of her portrait in the Emba.s.sy a couple of hours ago he had been plunged in thought, for did he not know her secret--the secret of this madcap Princess who had scandalised the Royal House of Savoy?

"This is really a great surprise to me, Mademoiselle Lola," he answered, scarce knowing what he said. "I, too, would like to have a chat with you. But is it really wise for you to come to my rooms?" he asked in English, glancing at the two royal servants sitting statuesque upon the box.

"n.o.body will know. These men do not know English. Shall we say at ten o'clock to-night? I can get away then--not before, I fear. We have a Court dinner."

"Very well," he said, looking into her splendid dark eyes. "At ten o'clock then."

"_Addio_--eh! Till ten o'clock?" she laughed.

"But are you sure it would not be an injudicious step--to visit a bachelor in his rooms?" he queried gravely.

"I don't care, Signor Waldron--if you don't. I always take every precaution. My maid, Renata, is as silent as the Sphinx we saw in Egypt. Do you remember? And how I fell off my camel?"

"Shall I ever forget those days?" he remarked as he took the outstretched hand and bowed over it. "Very well, mademoiselle--at ten o'clock."

"_Bene_. Then I will explain matters. You must be terribly puzzled. I see it in your face," she laughed.

He smiled and as he stood hat in hand the royal carriage moved off, the onlookers staring to note that the popular young Princess should have stopped and have spoken to a man, an ordinary foot-pa.s.senger on the Pincio.

For a second the diplomat glanced after her, then he turned upon his heel and began to descend the winding roadway, past those busts of all the distinguished Italians from Julius Caesar to Marin.

Before him lay that wonderful view of Rome, where beyond the Porta del Popolo and the new quarter with the Palazzo di Giustizia, on the opposite bank of the Tiber, rose the great dome of St Peter's from the grey mists of the sunset, while on the right stood the spire of the Church of Lourdes, the Vatican, and a portion of the Leontine wall.

Away on the right rose Monte Mario with its dark funereal cypresses, while to the left of St Peter's could be seen the round castle of Sant Angelo with the bronze angel that crowned it. The pines on the height of the castle were familiar to him, being those of the Villa Lante on the Janiculum with the Pa.s.seggiata Margherita on which the great statue of Garibaldi was the most conspicuous object.

And as he went along his mind was filled with thoughts of the strange situation, and of the amazing discovery he had that day made.

Lola, his charming little friend of the Nile, at whose side he had so often ridden over the desert, was actually a Princess of the blood-royal--the madcap Princess of the House of Savoy! And ere he had descended the hill her splendid carriage with its jingling harness flashed by him and she nodded merrily as he raised his hat, while two cavalry officers, recognising her, raised their hands in ceremonious salute.

He was reflecting upon those idle sunny days in the far-off Nile-land, those evenings when the western sky was diffused and glorified with gold and saffron, and the shades of night crept up from the silent bosom of the desert where the Bedouins and Bishareen halted their caravans to camp.

In that sunset hour he knew that the faces of the devout were now turned towards Mecca--away from that golden mystery and beauty that the sun had placed in the west--to recite their evening prayers. And up from the mists, as he gazed away across to the low purple hills of the Campagna rose that sweet, smiling, beautiful face--the face which he had once again gazed upon, though he had believed it had pa.s.sed out of his ken for ever.

Punctually at ten o'clock that evening Waldron's English valet, Peters-- the faithful, clean-shaven, but hunch-backed old Peters who had been with him over ten years--ushered Lola, a sweet-faced, girlish figure into his sitting-room where he stood ready to receive her.

"Really, Mr Waldron, what awfully jolly quarters you have here!" she exclaimed, glancing quickly around the well-furnished bachelor room.

The man he had succeeded at the Emba.s.sy believed in personal comfort, and had furnished his flat in English style. Therefore he had been fortunate in being able to purchase it cheaply, for its owner had been transferred to Tokio.

"Yes," her host agreed: "they're not half bad. But," he added, "do you really think it prudent to come and visit me at this hour?"

"Why not? I couldn't very well come in the daytime. Somebody might recognise me."

"But is not ten o'clock at night a rather unusual time for a young lady to visit a bachelor?" he queried.

"Well, I don't mind," she laughed gaily. "But there, you're such a dear, conventional old thing!"

He noted that, contrary to her appearance in the afternoon, when she had worn a smart costume and hat which was evidently the latest creation of the Rue de la Paix, she was now very neatly, almost shabbily dressed in a plain blue serge coat and skirt which had seen its best days, a small, close-fitting little hat which showed evident signs of wear, and sadly worn furs.

She noticed that he surveyed her as she took the armchair he offered her.

"Yes," she said, "it is very fortunate that my maid, Renata, is about the same figure as myself, and that her clothes fit me. I usually pa.s.s as her when I go out at night. The sentries change every week, so as long as I am dressed as a maid I have no difficulty--though I sometimes have trouble to avoid the other servants."

"I should think you run very great risks of recognition," he remarked.

"And if the truth leaked out would there not be some serious trouble?"

"Trouble! Oh, I dread to think of it!" she declared with a shrug of the shoulders. "I receive daily lectures about my non-observance of the social amenities, my lack of personal pride, and all that. But there-- Mr Waldron, you must, I know, have been greatly surprised at meeting me to-day. I know I deceived you. But it was imperative, as I was then travelling incognita. So I hope you will forgive me."

"You practised a very cruel deception upon me," he said with mock severity. "And I don't know if I really ought to forgive you."

"Oh yes, you will--you dear old thing," she cried persuasively, laughing in his face. He was double her age, therefore the endearing terms in which she addressed him were not exactly out of place. Yet, remembering the secret lover, he wondered what had become of him.

"Then old Gigleux was not your uncle, after all?" remarked Waldron, for he remembered how Jack Jerningham had recognised him on that New Year's night at Shepheard's.

"No. Listen and I'll tell you the truth," the Princess said in very good English. She was delightfully unconventional. "You see my aunt, the Queen, was very much annoyed because I motored to Florence alone, and some gossip got about regarding me--because I went to a fancy-dress ball with a gentleman I know. Well, I fear I was a little hot-tempered, with the result that I was unceremoniously packed off on a long tour to Egypt and given into the charge of Miss Lambert and old Ghelardi, who had been in the German Service, but who had just returned to Italy and was appointed by the King as Chief of our Secret Police. I was ordered by the King to a.s.sume the name of Duprez, while Ghelardi was to be known as Jules Gigleux. And I think we kept up the farce fairly well--didn't we?"

"Most excellently. n.o.body had the slightest suspicion of the truth, I feel sure."

"I know I told you some awful stories--about my poverty, and all that.

But you will forgive me--won't you?" she implored.

"Of course," replied the diplomat, charmed by her sweetness and frankness of manner. "It was necessary in order to preserve your incognita. I realise now the reason why your pseudo-uncle regarded me with such a decided antipathy. First he feared lest we might fall in love with each other--"

"And there was no fear of that, was there?" she laughed, interrupting.

"I don't know exactly," he answered half-dubiously. "You flirted with me outrageously sometimes."