The Lost Ambassador Part 15

"I am sorry," I said, "but there is no doubt that up to the present, at any rate, your uncle has not been here. I am quite sure, though," I added, "that there is no cause for alarm. A hundred slight accidents might have happened to detain him for half an hour or so."

She glanced at the clock.

"It is more than that," she said softly.

"Tell me," I asked, "would you like me to communicate with the police?

They are in touch with the hospitals, and if any misfortune has happened to your uncle--which, after all, is scarcely likely--we should hear of it directly."

She shook her head vigorously. The idea, for some reason, seemed to displease her.

"No!" she said. "Why should we appeal to the police? What have they to do with my uncle? I am quite sure that he would not wish that."

"I presume," I said, "that nothing of this sort has ever happened before?--I mean that he has not left you without warning?"

"Not under the same circ.u.mstances," she admitted. "And yet, he has a very queer way of absenting himself every now and then."

"For long?" I asked.

"It depends," she answered. "Never for any length of time, though."

"After all," I remarked, "you cannot have seen such a great deal of him. He lives in South America, does he not, and you have never been out of France?"

"It is true," she murmured.

"I noticed," I continued thoughtfully, "that he seemed disturbed as we neared London."

She drew out the pins from her hat, and with a little gesture of relief threw it upon the table.

"Please sit down for a minute," she said. "I want to think."

She leaned forward upon the couch, her head buried in her hands. I felt that she desired silence, so I said nothing. Several moments pa.s.sed, then there came a sudden and unexpected interruption. The bell of the telephone instrument, which stood between us upon the table, commenced to ring. Her hands fell from before her face. She looked across at me with parted lips and wide-open eyes. I made a movement towards the instrument, but she checked me.

"Stop!" she said. "Wait a moment! Let me think!"

She had risen to her feet. We stood looking at one another across the table. Between us was the telephone instrument and the bell which had just rung out its summons.

"Are you not going to answer it?" I asked.

"I am afraid!" she answered. "I do not know what has come over me. I am afraid! Take up the receiver. Tell me who it is who speaks."

"You are sure that you wish it?" I asked.

"At once!" she insisted. "They will have gone away."

The bell rang again. I took the receiver into my hands.

"Who is there?" I asked.

"Is that the apartment of Mr. Delora?" was the reply.

"Yes!" I said.

"I wish to speak to Miss Felicia Delora," the voice said.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"It does not matter," was the answer. "Be so good as to tell her to come to the telephone--Miss Felicia Delora."

I held the receiver away from me and turned to her.

"Some one wishes to speak to you," I said.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"The person gave no name," I answered.

"Did you recognize the voice?" she asked.

I hesitated.

"I was not sure," I said. "It was like your uncle's."

She took the instrument into her hand. What pa.s.sed between her and the person at the other end I had, of course, no means of telling. All I know was that she said, at short intervals,--"Yes! No! Yes! I promise!" Then she laid the instrument down and looked at me.

"The mystery is solved," she said. "My uncle has met some friends, and stayed with them for a little time to discuss a matter of business. I am sorry to have been so troublesome to you. My anxieties, of course, are at an end now."

I bowed, and moved toward the door.

"If there is anything else that I can do--" I said.

"I shall ask you," she answered, looking at me earnestly. "I shall, indeed."

"My number is 128," I said. "I am two floors above you. Please do not forget to make use of me if you need a friend."

"I shall not forget," she answered softly.

Then, as though moved by a sudden impulse, she held out her hand,--a small white hand with rather long fingers, manicured to a perfection unusual in this country. She wore only one ring, in which was set a magnificent uncut emerald. I held her fingers for a moment, and raised them to my lips.

"I shall be always at your service," I answered quietly, "however much--or however little you may care to tell me. Goodnight!"

I went to my rooms and washed. Afterwards I descended and ordered some supper in the cafe.

"Louis is not back yet?" I remarked to the waiter who attended to me.

"Not yet, monsieur," the man answered. "We expect him some time to-morrow. Monsieur is also from Paris?"

I nodded, and did not pursue the subject. On my way back to my rooms half an hour later I stopped to speak for a few minutes with the hall-porter.

"Mr. Delora has not arrived yet, sir," he remarked.