Part 23 (1/2)

”I say, Charles--I have located her--have you?”

”No! By Jove!” said Paul's father. ”Hubert is away, you know, and I have just let the thing slide--”

”About the end of February did you notice the boy looking at all worried?”

Sir Charles thought a moment.

”Yes--I recollect--d--d worried and restless--and he is again now.”

”Ah! I thought so!” said Mark Grigsby, as though he could say a good deal more.

”Well, then--out with it, Grig,” Sir Charles said impatiently.

And Captain Grigsby proceeded in his own style to weave together a chain of coincidences which had struck him, until this final certainty. They were a clear set of arguments, and Paul's father was convinced, too.

”You see, Tompson told you in the beginning she was Russian,” Captain Grigsby said after talking for some time, ”and the rest was easy to find out. We're not here to judge the morals of the affair, Charles; you and I can only be thundering glad your grandson will sit on that throne all right.”

He had read in one paper--he proceeded to say--that a most difficult political situation had been avoided by the birth of this child, as there was no possible heir at all, and immense complications would ensue upon the death of the present ruler--the scurrilous rag even gave a _resume_ of this ruler's dissolute life, and a broad hint that the child could in no case be his; but, as they pithily remarked, this added to the little prince's welcome in Ministerial circles, where the lady was greatly beloved and revered, and the King had only been put upon his tottering throne, and kept there, by the fact of being her husband. The paper added, the King had taken the chief part in the rejoicings over the heir, so there was nothing to be said. There were hints also of his mad fits of debauchery and drunkenness, and a suppressed tale of how in one of them he had strangled a keeper, and had often threatened the Queen's life. Her brother, however, was with her now, and would see Russian supremacy was not upset.

”Husband seems a likely character to hobn.o.b with, don't he, Charles? No wonder she turned her eye on Paul, eh?” Mark Grigsby ended with.

But Sir Charles answered not, his thoughts were full of his son.

All the forces of nature and emotion seemed to be drawing him away from peaceful England towards a hornets' nest, and he--his father--would be powerless to prevent it.

CHAPTER XXVII

April's days were lengthening out in showers and suns.h.i.+ne and cold east wind. Easter and a huge party had come and gone at Verdayne Place, and the Lady Henrietta had had her hopes once more blighted by noticing Paul's indomitable indifference to all the pretty girls.

He was going to stand for Parliament in the autumn, when their very old member should retire, and he made that an excuse for his isolation; he was working too hard for social functions, he said. But in reality life was growing more than he could bear.

Captain Grigsby had sold the old _Blue Heather_ and bought a new steam yacht of seven hundred tons--large enough to take him round the world, he said--and he had had her put in commission for the Mediterranean, and she was waiting for him now at Ma.r.s.eilles. Would Paul join him for a trip? he asked, and Paul hesitated for a moment.

If no news came by Friday--this was a Monday--then he should go to London and deliberately find out his lady's name and kingdom. In that case to cruise in those waters might suit his book pa.s.sing well.

So he asked for a few days' grace, and Captain Grigsby gave a friendly growl in reply, and thus it was settled. By Sat.u.r.day he was to give his answer.

Tuesday pa.s.sed, and Wednesday, and on Thursday a telegram came for Paul which drove him mad with joy. It was short and to the point: ”Meet Dmitry in Paris,” Then followed an address. By rus.h.i.+ng things he could just catch the night boat.

He went to his father's room, where Sir Charles was discussing affairs with his land steward. The man retired.

”Father,” said Paul, ”I am going immediately to Paris. I have not even time to wait and see my mother--she is out driving, I hear. Will you understand, father, and make it all right with her?”

And Sir Charles said, as he wrung his son's hand:

”Take care of yourself, Paul--I understand, my boy--and remember, Grig and I are with you to the bone. Wire if you want us--and let me have your news.”

So they had parted without fuss, deep feeling in their hearts.