The Lady in the Car

“Well, what do you know?”

“Boncini, her father is, of course, Minister of the Interior, and a pretty slick customer. Made pots of money, they say, and only keeps in office by bribery. Half the money subscribed by charitable people on behalf of the sufferers from the recent earthquake down in Calabria went into his pocket. He bought a big villa, and fine estate, close to Vallombrosa a month or so afterwards.”

His lordship grunted.

“Picks up what he can?” he remarked. “One of us – it seems!”

“Exactly. And to do any business, we’ll have to be pretty cute. He’s already seen and heard a lot of you, and he knows that you’ve met his pretty daughter. Perhaps he fancies you’ll marry her.”

“The only use of marriage to a man, my dear Clayton,” exclaimed the devil-may-care adventurer blowing a cloud of cigarette smoke from his lips, “is to enable him to make a settlement upon his wife, and so wriggle from the clutches of his creditors.” The Parson laughed. Regarding the marriage tie his Highness, or “his lordship” rather as he was at that moment called, was always sarcastic.

“Really, old chap, you spread your fame wherever you go. Why, all Rome is talking about this wonderful coup of yours at Monte.”

“It was Garrett’s idea. He told them down in the garage, and Charles told a lady’s maid or two, I think. Such things are quite easy when one starts out upon a big bluff. But if what you’ve discovered about his Excellency the Minister Boncini is really true, then I shall alter my tactics somewhat. I mean that I must make the dark-haired daughter a stepping-stone to her father.”

“With care – my dear fellow,” exclaimed the Parson in that calm, clerical drawl habitual to him. “The girl’s cousin, Miss Ethel Thorold, is English. The sister of the Signora Boncini married a man on the London Stock Exchange, named Thorold.”

“That’s awkward,” exclaimed his lordship thoughtfully, “upsets my plans.”

“But he’s dead,” the Parson declared. His companion nodded satisfaction.

“Now Miss Ethel is, I’ve found, a rather religiously inclined young person – all praise to her. So I shall succeed very soon in getting to know her. Indeed, as you’ve already made her acquaintance you might introduce me as the vicar of some living within your gift.”

“Excellent – I will.”

“And what’s your plans?”

“They’re my own secrets at present, Tommy,” was the other’s quick answer. “You’re at the Grand, aren’t you? Well, for the present, we must be strangers – till I approach you. Understand?”

“Of course. Give me five hundred francs will you. I’m short?”

His lordship unlocked his heavy steel despatch-box and gave his friend five one-hundred franc notes without a word.

Then they reseated themselves, and with Charles, the faithful valet, leaning against the edge of the table smoking a cigarette with them, their conversation was both interesting and confidential.

A fortnight went by, and Rome was in the middle of her Pasqua fêtes. The night was perfect, bright and star-lit.

The great gilded ballroom of the huge old Peruzzi Palace, in the Via Nazionale, the residence of his Excellency the Minister Boncini, was thronged by a brilliant crowd, among whom Lord Nassington made his way, ever and anon bowing over some woman’s hand.

The bright uniforms, the glittering stars and coloured ribbons worn by the men, and the magnificent toilettes of the women combined to form a perfect phantasmagoria of colour beneath the huge crystal electroliers.

The political and social world of Rome had gathered there at the monthly reception of his Excellency, the rather stout grey-bearded man with the broad cerise-and-white ribbon of the Order of the Crown of Italy across his shirt-front, and the diamond star upon his coat. His Lordship strode through the huge painted salons with their heavy gilt mirrors and giant palms, and approached the man of power in that complex nation, modern Italy.

At that moment his Excellency was chatting with the French Ambassador, but on the Englishman’s approach he turned to him exclaiming in French:

“Ah! Lord Nassington! I am so pleased you could come. Velia told me of the slight accident to your car yesterday. I hope you were not hurt at all?”

“Oh! no,” laughed the debonair young man. “I had perhaps a close shave. My car is a rather fast one, and I was driving recklessly on the Maremma Road – a sharp turn – and I ran down a bank, that’s all. The car will be all right by to-morrow.”

“Ah, milord. The automobile is an invention of the future, without a doubt.”

“Most certainly. Indeed, as a matter of fact, I thought of making a suggestion to your Excellency – one which I believe would be most acceptable to the Italian nation. But, of course, here it’s quite impossible to talk.”

“Then come to-morrow morning to my private cabinet at the Ministry – or better still, here to luncheon, and we can chat.”

His Lordship expressed his thanks, and then moved off in search of the pretty Velia.

For the greater part of the evening he dangled at the side of the good-looking girl in turquoise chiffon, having several waltzes with her and afterwards strolling out upon the balcony and sitting there beneath the starlight.

“What a charming man your friend Mr Clayton is!” exclaimed the girl in English, as they were sitting together apart from the others. “Papa is delighted with him.”

“Oh, yes – a most excellent fellow for a parson,” his Lordship laughed, and then their conversation turned upon motors and motoring.

“How is your shoulder this evening?” she inquired.

“Not at all painful,” he declared. “It’s nearly all right again. The car will be ready for the road to-morrow afternoon. I’m lunching with you here, and I wonder if you and your cousin will come with me for a run out to Tivoli afterwards?”

“I should be delighted,” she said. “Our car is only a sixteen ‘Fiat’ you know, and we never travel faster than a cab. It would be such fun to have a run in your beautiful ‘sixty’! I don’t suppose papa would object.”

“I’ll ask him to come, too,” laughed the man by whom she had become so attracted, and then they returned for another dance. Her ears were open, and so were those of the shrewd old man who controlled the internal affairs of the kingdom. There were whisperings everywhere, regarding the young man’s wealth, his good fortune, and his aristocratic family.

His Excellency had not failed to notice the attraction which the young English peer held for his daughter, and also that he paid her marked attention. Therefore the old man was extremely self-satisfied.

Next day after the little family luncheon at the Peruzzi Palace at which only the Signora Boncini, Velia, and her cousin Ethel were present, his Excellency took his guest aside in his small private room for their coffee and cigarettes.

Nassington offered the Minister one of his “Petroffs” which was pronounced excellent.

Then, after a brief chat, his Lordship came to the point.

“The fact is, your Excellency,” he said, “a suggestion has occurred to me by which the Italian Government could, while benefiting the country to an enormous extent, at the same time secure a very handsome sum annually towards the exchequer.”

“How?” inquired the shrewd old statesman.

“By granting to a group of substantial English financiers a monopoly for the whole of the motor-transport of Italy,” his Lordship replied, blowing a cloud of smoke from his lips. “You have, in every part of the kingdom, great tracts of productive country without railways or communications. At the same time you have excellent roads everywhere. The concession, if granted, would be taken up by a great firm who handle motor-traction, and certain districts, approved by your government, would be opened up as an experiment. Would not that be of national benefit?”

“I see,” replied the statesman stroking his beard thoughtfully. “And you propose that the earnings of the syndicate should be taxed by our Department of Finance?”

“Exactly.”

A keen, eager look was in the old man’s eyes, and did not pass unrecognised by the man lounging in the armchair in picturesque indolence.

“And suppose we were to go into the matter,” the Minister said. “What attitude would your Lordship adopt?”

“Well – my attitude would be this,” Nassington replied. “You give me the proper concession, signed by the Ministers, and I guarantee to find the capital among my personal friends in financial circles in London. But on one condition,” he added. “That the whole matter is kept secret. Afterwards, I venture to think the whole country, and especially the rural population will be grateful to your Excellency.”

Boncini instantly saw that such a move would increase his popularity immensely in the country. The idea appealed to him. If Lord Nassington’s friends were ready with capital, they would also be ready, he foresaw, with a very substantial sum for bribery. Personally he cared not a rap for the progress of Italy. While in office, he intended to amass as much as he could. He was the all-powerful man in Italy at the moment. But next year he might be – well where more than one Minister as powerful as he, had found himself – in prison!

“There are difficulties,” his Excellency said with some hesitation. “My colleagues in the Cabinet may raise objections. They may not see matters in the light that I do. And the Senate, too – they – ”