"This is Mr Macbean, father. He wishes to salute you. He was here
yesterday playing tennis, but you were not visible."
"Very glad to meet you, sir," exclaimed Camillo Morini, rising, grasping
the young man's hand, and raising his grey felt hat. "You know," he
explained, as he reseated himself, "I am a busy man, and so I have but
little opportunity of meeting my wife's English friends. But," he
added, in very good English, after a slight pause, as he readjusted his
gold-rimmed glasses and looked harder at the young man, "if I am not
mistaken, we have met before, have we not? I seem to recognise your
face."
"Yes, your Excellency," laughed Macbean, whereupon both Mary and her
father started in surprise, for it was apparent that their visitor was
aware of Morini's true position. "I had the honour of having an
audience of your Excellency in Rome. I am secretary to Mr
Morgan-Mason, and accompanied him to Rome on the deputation which waited
upon you regarding the concession of supplying army stores in
Abyssinia."
"Of course, of course!" exclaimed the Minister, suddenly interested. "I
recollect quite well. You introduced the deputation, and I remember
remarking how well you spoke Italian for an Englishman. Ah yes. I
could not give the concession, as it had already been given to a German
firm," he added, omitting, however, the real reason, namely, because the
English company had offered no secret commission. "And you are
secretary to Morgan-Mason? He is a deputy, I believe."
Macbean explained that his employer sat for South-West Norfolk, and in
response to other inquiries gave certain information concerning his
politics and his social influence, facts of which the clever Minister
made a note; for an idea had occurred to him that the monied
provision-dealer whose pompousness had struck him as he had sat in his
private cabinet at the Ministry of War might be one day of service to
him.
All through his career it had been part of Camillo Morini's creed to
note persons who might be of assistance to him, and to afterwards use
their influence, or their weaknesses, to his advantage. A keen judge of
character, he read men's minds as he would an open book. He had
recognised the weakness of that white-waistcoated Englishman who was
struggling into society, and he resolved that one day both the Member of
Parliament and his secretary should be put to their proper uses.
"Mr Macbean called to see Count Dubard, who is a friend of his," his
daughter explained.
"Oh, you are acquainted! How curious!" exclaimed His Excellency.
"Dubard unfortunately left this morning--because he received a letter
which recalled him at once to Paris. But as my valet tells me that no
letters arrived for the count this morning, I can only surmise that he
was tired of us here, and found country life in England too dull," he
laughed knowingly. "I've received the same fictitious letter myself
before now, when I've been tired of a host and hostess."
And they all three laughed in chorus. His Excellency was of course
unaware of the real reason of Jules Dubard's flight, and the young
Englishman smiled within himself as he reflected upon the staggering
surprise it would cause that calm, astute man who was such a power in
the south of Europe if he knew the actual truth.
"Of course," added Signor Morini, turning to the young man, "you will do
me one kind favour? You will not mention to anyone here my true
position. I come to England each year for rest and quiet, and if I am
unknown no political significance can be attached to my summer visits--
you understand?"
"Certainly, your Excellency, I shall respect your wishes," was Macbean's
reply, and a few minutes later he took leave of the great statesman and
his daughter, and, full of strange conflicting reflections, rode out
upon the broad highway back to Thornby.