Great Britain -- Fiction; Political fiction; Science fiction
"Only too late for supper," was the dry answer of the old banker, but
the tone was pleasant.
Through the hall, where those in waiting stood respectfully as she
passed, the banker led her to a small, luxuriously furnished parlor on
the ground floor. As she threw aside her wraps and sank into a soft
chair, old Bugbee opened the door of an inner room, and turned to her:
"These are your apartments," said he.
The Beauty looked around, but said nothing, only nodding her head.
"You are very tired?" questioned old Bugbee.
"No; not very. But I should like some supper--and a glass of wine."
Mr. Bugbee touched a bell and gave an order.
"It is almost midnight?" she asked.
"It is after twelve--ten minutes. The morning of the great day has
come."
And the old banker looked into the eyes of the young Beauty, and almost
smiled in response to her low, derisive laugh.
"He came to-day, then?" she asked.
"Yesterday," corrected Mr. Bugbee; "at noon, he landed from my
steam-yacht, in the very heart of London. So much for the international
police."
"Do they know?" said Mrs. Oswald Carey. "Does Sir John Dacre know?"
"Sir John Dacre helped the King into his carriage when he landed. He
knows that he is here, and expects to meet him at Aldershot to-morrow."
While pretending to move and speak as if quite at ease, Mr. Bugbee was
obviously nervous and unsettled. Mrs. Carey observed this, but without
appearing to do so.
"Where is your husband?" Mr. Bugbee asked quietly, with his face turned
from Mrs. Carey, whose side view he had before him in a low mirror. He
saw her move in her chair, and slowly look him all over, and then glance
down as if considering her answer.
"He is on the Continent--at Nice, I think."
She had dined with him that day, but did not know that from the dinner
Oswald Carey had come straight to Mr. Bugbee's house to keep an
appointment with the wily "King's Banker," who wished to know how the
Beauty had spent the day, and whom she had seen.
"What a liar she is!" muttered old Bugbee, but he smiled at himself in
the mirror, as if approving his superior astuteness.
"Then there is no danger of his making a noise about your absence from
home to-night. Some husbands would be alarmed, and might apply to the
police."
Mrs. Carey looked up to see if Bugbee were serious; and then she laughed
heartily and rather loudly, while he held up his hands with an alarmed
expression.
"Hush!" and the frown of the old man was something to remember. "They
observe as much formality as if he were in Windsor Palace."
"Well--he will be there to-day, will he not?" and Mrs. Carey looked
innocently at the banker.
He came closer and bent his broad, bare poll to her as he spoke:
"No! He will never see Windsor again."
"But the Royalists--will they not raise the King's flag to-day?" Still
the guileless surprise in her face, which had its effect on old Bugbee.
"Yes; they will strike to-day at Aldershot--and they will be defeated."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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