Free Wallace Intervenes by Alexander Wilson

that that obvious reason was the very one which most caused her to wish he would stay in London was significant. At all events, she, of course, failed entirely to persuade him to let her go alone. His refusal, it must be confessed, gave her a great deal of frank pleasure even though she was honestly worried at the thought of leading him into peril. She declined to give himany indication of the direction in which danger lay and of what it consisted, despite several attempts on his part to find out.
    ‘It is best that you should know nothing at all,’ she told him; ‘at least not until I am certain the danger really exists and is imminently menacing us. It will be time enough to tell you everything then.’
    ‘It may be too late,’ he warned her.
    How prophetic words can sometimes be! He remembered his remark afterwards. So did she, at probably the most terrible moment of her life.
    It was a glorious morning when they left London. Quite a large crowd collected to bid the baroness farewell at Victoria, and there were many significant smiles and whispers when it was seen that Foster was accompanying her.
    Two attachés at the German embassy regarded the young Englishman with haughty, disapproving stares – much to his secret amusement.
    Crossing over on the boat Foster caught sight of the man Carl sitting on a seat near the stern between two elderly ladies. He saw him again on the train. For a member of the German Espionage Department he did not seem particularly astute, but Foster reflected that the man had no reason to fear that he was known or suspected. The Englishman also remembered with a grin the opinion of him expressed by the maid, Hanni, which shows that one can never judge by appearances. In any case he considered Carl a fool. A man like that would not last in the British Secret Service a day. Sir Leonard Wallace would not tolerate carelessness. One of his invariable rules was that no matter whether an agent was certain or not that his identity was unknown to a party he was watching he must not expose himself under any consideration whatever, unless, of course, he was in disguise.
    The journey to Budapest was almost a dream of delight to Foster. There is nothing, as a rule, either dreamlike or particularly delightful about train travelling even in the luxury expresses of the Continent, but he felt thoroughly happy. Except at night he spent practically the whole of the time with Sophie and perhaps during the trip they learnt to know each other completely. It is certain that, on several occasions, he was on the point of revealing to her the secret of his heart which really was no secret at all, at least to others, but then there is a trite, though very true, saying that lookers-on see most of the game. Rosemary Meredith and Dora Reinwald certainly did. With infinite tact they effaced themselves, and little was seen of them. The woman, Hanni, also took care to appear only on rare occasions to discover if her mistress had need of her.
    A suite of rooms had been engaged for the baroness and her companions at the Hungaria Hotel in Budapest. Foster obtained a bedroom on the floor above which faced upon the Danube and the hills of Buda immediately beyond. It was an amazing apartment, very large and furnished luxuriously in the finest Empire style. Napoleon, it was apparent, had left his influence on the Hungarian mind. The high double doors ornamented with gilt relief, the walls covered with silken panels, the enormous chandelier hanging from the centre of the ceiling, the mahogany furniture upholstered in green brocade, the heavily draped windows, magnificent mirror, and deeply panelled, floriated ceiling gave the young Englishman the feeling that he was lodged in a palace. He had never been in Budapest before, and he decided he was going to enjoy the experience immensely.
    Before dressing for dinner he and Sophie walked for a while on the Corso. There is something of the colour of the East aboutHungary, even the