Part 39 (1/2)

”A large sum, certainly, but you can easily obtain it,” she quickly a.s.sured me. ”I have all the necessary preliminaries of the securities here;” and she pointed to the pile of papers at her side.

”I take it that the money is required for the Prince's private purse?”

”No; solely for defence--to purchase arms and ammunition; to pay the army the arrears due, so as to secure their support in case of an outbreak, and to pay certain heavy sums as secret-service money. All this is imperative in order to save the country from falling into the hands of Russia. But it must be done, of course, in strictest secrecy, His Highness, as I have already explained, hesitated to entrust the matter to his recognised minister here because the spies of Russia are everywhere, and if any knowledge of his intentions leaked out it would be fatal to his plans.”

”And so he trusts me!” I said, smiling.

”He does, absolutely.”

”And where does His Highness think that I am going to get half a million of money from at a moment's notice, pray?” I asked with a smile.

”With these in your possession there will be no difficulty,” she responded coolly, indicating the papers. ”There is not a financial agent in the City of London who would not be only too delighted to, without its intentions being known.”

”But you say it is all a secret,” I observed. ”How do you think it possible that I can raise such a loan without its intentions being known?”

She laughed outright.

”The money, you will find from the doc.u.ments here, is ostensibly for the construction of a new railway from Philippopolis, by the s.h.i.+pka to Rustchuk. The plans are here, properly prepared, so that you need have no hesitation in showing them to any railway engineer.”

I saw that she had been trained in a school of clever diplomacy.

”And you say that security will be given?”

”Certainly. The proposal is to give the customs receipts. They would be ample. Failing that, it is probable that the Princess's jewels, which, as you know, include some of the finest pearls in Europe, might be available. Of the latter, however, I am not sure.”

I remained silent, turning over the papers she had pa.s.sed across to me.

They were mostly in French, and, therefore, easily understood. The doc.u.ments related to ”the long projected scheme of constructing a railway from Philippopolis to Eski Saghra, thence across the s.h.i.+pka to Rasgrad, joining the line already in operation between Varna and Rustchuk.” Appended were official declarations from the Bulgarian Minister of Finance, countersigned by the Prince himself.

The doc.u.ments were certainly very ingeniously contrived so as to conceal the real purpose of the loan. I remarked this, and my companion, laughing lightly, said--

”Deception, to some extent, is always necessary in delicate diplomacy.”

The discovery that the mysterious woman--whose name she had withheld from me--was actually a secret agent of the autonomous Princ.i.p.ality created by the Berlin Treaty--that turbulent State mostly notable for the a.s.sa.s.sination of its Ministers--was entirely unlooked for. On the night when accident had thrown us together, and she had smoothed my brow with her cool hand, I had believed her to be a young girl who had taken pity upon me in my helplessness; but the revelations she had made during that half-hour showed that there had been some firm purpose underlying it all.

She alone knew the truth of that tragic occurrence at The Boltons, and I saw that in this matter I had to deal with a very clever and ingenious woman.

I had now a double purpose in life--to discover Mabel, and to elucidate the mystery of the crime. Towards that end I intended to strive, and as I sat with my glance fixed upon those mysterious grey eyes, I endeavoured to form some plan of action.

”Madam,” I said gravely, at last, ”as you appear not to place sufficient confidence in me to tell me your name, I regret that I can place no confidence in these doc.u.ments.”

”My name!” she laughed. ”Ah, of course; I had quite forgotten. There is no secret about it;” and from her purse she drew forth a folded, much-worn blue paper, which she handed to me.

It was an English pa.s.sport, bearing the name of ”Lucy Edna Grainger.”

”Grainger?” I repeated. ”Then you are English?”

”Yes, I am legally a British subject, because my father was English. I was, however, born abroad.”

A silence fell between us. The roar of the traffic in Piccadilly came up from below; the summer night was warm, and the window stood open. At last I determined upon a bold course.