ruined and blasted world. Fawley, sometimes the thought of another war and one’s responsibilities concerning it comes to me like a hideous nightmare. Twice I have suffered from what they called a nervous breakdown. It was from the fear that war might come again in my days. Think of being in your place!”
Fawley rose to his feet.
“I shall be no more than a cog in the wheels, sir,” he sighed. “I just had the idea. Directly it has been put on paper, the sheer simplicity of it will amaze every one. I am going to gamble on Rawson.”
“I will back you,” the Prime Minister declared. “I tell you I know for a certainty that he brings the President’s signature.”
Fawley glanced at the clock.
“Very good, sir,” he said. “Will you allow me to arrange with Malcolm for the most powerful government plane that can be spared? I shall want it ready at Heston to-morrow morning at six o’clock.”
“Where are you off to first?”
“I am afraid I shall have to go to Paris, where I am not very popular, and on to Rome, where they have sworn to have my blood. Something I saw in Germany, though, will help me there. If my scheme comes off, there will be no war.”
The Prime Minister held out both his hands. Afterwards he took his guest by the arm.
“We will go in to Malcolm together, Fawley,” he proposed. “Paris and Rome, eh? And Germany afterwards. Well, you are a brave man.”
CHAPTER XXV
Fawley, with his hands thrust into his overcoat pockets and a freshly lit cigarette in his mouth, walked briskly to the corner of Downing Street and paused, looking around for a taxicab, apparently unconscious that he was the cynosure of a dozen pairs of eyes. A private car was waiting by the side of the curbstone, to all appearance unoccupied. Suddenly he felt a grip upon his arm—not the sinister grip of an assailant but the friendly grasp of slender fingers.
“Do not hesitate for one moment, please,” the slim figure by his side insisted. “Step into that car.”
He looked down at her with a smile. He knew very well that he had nothing to fear, for there were shadowy figures hovering around close at hand.
“Am I to be abducted again, Princess?” he asked. “This time I warn you that I have protectors at my elbow.”
“It is nevertheless I,” she declared a little petulantly, “who have to be your protector-in-chief. You do such foolish things—you who are on the black list of two countries, both of whom are well known for the efficiency of their Secret Service, and you walk about these streets as though you were invisible!”
He smiled but he followed her obediently into the car. One of those shadowy figures stepped into the roadway and whispered a word to the driver. Elida gave the man the address of the Italian Embassy.
“Alas, I must get back to my rooms,” he told her. “Sorry, but it is really important.”
“You will come out from them on a stretcher, if you do,” she answered. “Honestly, I sometimes cannot decide whether you are wilfully stupid or whether you have that sort of courage which marches with luck.”
“What have I to fear at my rooms?” he asked. “I can assure you that there will be no strangers allowed in the building for a long time to come.”
“The man whom you have to fear is Pietro Patoni,” she replied firmly. “I tell you this seriously, not as a fashion of speech. He has gone mad! I am sure of it. He believes—oh, I cannot tell you all that he believes about us. He also looks upon you as a traitor to his country.”
Fawley was silent for a moment. He appeared to be watching the street through the window. In reality, he was thinking deeply enough. Elida was probably right. It was foolish in these days not to take every precaution with the end of his efforts so closely in sight.
“Whose car is this?” he asked abruptly.
“It belongs to my uncle, the Marchese di Vasena.”
“And your destination?”
“The Italian Embassy.”
“Sanctuary or prison?” he enquired, with a grim little quiver at the corners of his lips.
“I have thrown in my hand,” she told him. “I am no longer to be considered. It is sanctuary only which I offer you.”
“But the trouble is,” he explained, “that I must go to my rooms. I am leaving England early to-morrow morning and to say nothing of my kit, there are one or two necessary papers—my passport, for instance—which I must take with me.”
“I will fetch them for you,” she announced. “You yourself—you shall not go. Please be reasonable.”
She leaned towards him. Some little quiver in her tone, perhaps the eager flash of her eyes, the closeness of her obscure presence, reminded Fawley that after all he was quite a human person. He took her hand and held it in his.
“My dear Elida,” he said, “we have been on opposite sides all this time. How can I let you play around with my papers and learn my secrets?”
“There are no secrets to be learnt from any papers you leave around,” she declared. “Besides, you need not mind my seeing anything. I told you just now I have finished with the game. I have an idea in my mind that you are playing for greater stakes than any of us, that we must all seem like little pawns on the chessboard to you. I am content. I will help you if I can and, to begin with, let me convince you of this—Pietro is absolutely and seriously insane.”
“Of course, that might complicate matters,” Fawley reflected. “As just an angry man, I had no fear of him. You see, here in London a man cannot commit murder and get away with it. He cannot even manage an abduction. Patoni in his sane moments would realise that. If he is really mad, however, that is a different matter. The cleverest schemes in the world have been most often foiled by madmen.”
“What you will do is this,” she said decidedly. “You will come with me to my uncle’s. I shall establish you in my rooms. There is no reason to bring the Embassy into the matter at all. You will then telephone your servant what things you require and if there is anything he is unable to do, you can send me. What time do you start in the morning?”
“Now, you see, I prove that I am the worst Secret Service agent in the world, because I tell you the whole truth. I am leaving from Heston to-morrow morning at six o’clock.”
“Excellent,” she replied. “I shall not believe that you are an enemy and I shall not treat you as one. You shall have your short sleep at the Embassy, this car will take you to Heston in the morning, then you must find your adventure, whatever it may be. While you are in danger, I shall be unhappy. When it is all over, I hope that you will come back. I hope,” she added, with her fingers upon his shoulders, drawing him towards her, “that you will come back to me.”
