Part 14 (1/2)
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.