The Pauper of Park Lane

“Hullo, Rolfe! Who’d have thought of seeing you here? and how is Mr Statham? When will he buy us all up to-day?”

Rolfe briefly explained the nature of his mission to the ex-President, and then, after a few minutes’ chat, followed his host into the smaller room for a cigarette and chat. Eventually Rolfe, lying back in an easy-chair, said: “Do you know, Sir Charles, a very curious thing has happened recently in London?”

“Oh, I see by the papers that lots of curious things have happened,” was the diplomat’s reply, as he smiled upon his guest.

“Oh, yes; I know. But this is a serious matter. Doctor Petrovitch and his daughter Maud have disappeared.”

Sir Charles raised his eyebrows, and was in a moment serious.

“Disappeared! There’s been nothing about it in the papers.”

“No; it is being kept dark. The police haven’t been stirred about it. It was only a sudden removal from Cromwell Road, but both father, daughter, and household furniture disappeared.”

“How? In what manner did the furniture disappear?”

Rolfe explained, while Sir Charles sat listening open-mouthed.

“Extraordinary!” he ejaculated, when the younger man concluded. “What can be the reason of it. Petrovitch is an old and dear friend of mine. Why, I knew him years ago when I was attaché here. He often wrote to me. The last letter I had was from London about four months ago.”

“And he’s my friend also.”

“Yes; I know,” was the other’s reply. “It was whispered, Rolfe, that you were in love with the pretty Maud – eh?”

“I don’t deny it?”

“Why should you, if you love her.”

“But she’s disappeared – without a word.”

“And you are in search of her? Most natural. Well, I’ll make inquiries and ascertain if she’s been in Belgrade. I don’t believe she has, or we should certainly have seen something of her. My wife is very fond of her, you know.”

“I fear there’s been foul play?” Rolfe remarked.

The Minister shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s curious, to say the least, isn’t it?” he observed. There, in confidence, Charlie told the Minister of Marion’s friendship with Maud, of the strange and mysterious confession on the night of the disappearance, and her steadfast refusal to betray the girl’s secret.

Sir Charles paused and reflected.

“Political intrigue is at the bottom of this – depend upon it, Rolfe,” he said at last. “Petrovitch has enemies here, unscrupulous enemies, who would not hesitate to attempt his life. They fear that if he returns to power as the King had invited him, they will find themselves prisoners in the fortress – and that means death, as you know. When the Doctor acts, he acts boldly for the benefit of his country. He would make a clean sweep of his enemies once and for all.”

“Then you think they’ve anticipated this, and killed him in secret?” cried Rolfe.

“It is, I fear, quite possible,” was the diplomat’s reply.

“What causes you to believe this?”

“I possess secret knowledge.”

“Of a plot against him?”

“He was fully aware of it himself. That is why he lived in England,” the Minister replied.

“But, surely, if he knew this, he might have taken steps for his self-protection!” Rolfe exclaimed. “The fact that his furniture was spirited away to some unknown place makes it almost appear as though he was in accord with the conspirators.”

“No; I think not. The conspirators removed his furniture in order to prevent undue inquiries as to the Doctor’s disappearance. The emptying of the house may have been one to make it appear to the police that the Doctor had suddenly removed – perhaps to avoid his creditors.”

Rolfe shook his head. His opinion hardly coincided with that of the British diplomat. Besides, Max Barclay’s story of having seen a man there closely resembling him wanted explanation. With what motive had an unknown man represented him on the night in question?

“Maud Petrovitch has never written to you?” asked Harrison.

“Not a line.”

The Minister pursed his lips.

“Well,” he said, “I’m perfectly sure if she’s been in Belgrade she would certainly have come to see us. My wife used to have frequent letters from her in London.”

“I have not told Lady Harrison the reason of my inquiry – or any of the facts,” Rolfe said. “I thought I would leave it to you to tell her if you think proper. Up to the present, the Doctor’s disappearance has been kept secret between my friend Max Barclay, who was the Doctor’s most intimate chum in London, and myself.”

“At present I shall not tell my wife,” declared the diplomat. He was a man of secrets, and knew how to keep one. “Who is Max Barclay?” asked the Minister, after a pause. Rolfe explained, but said nothing regarding his engagement to his sister Marion. To it all Sir Charles listened attentively, without comment.

At last, after a long silence, he said:

“Well, look here, Rolfe. A sudden thought has occurred to me. I think it possible that to-morrow, in a certain quarter, I shall be able to make a confidential inquiry regarding the whereabouts of the Doctor. All that you’ve told me interests me exceedingly, because I have all along believed that very shortly Petrovitch was returning to power and join forces with Pashitch.”

“But didn’t they quarrel a short time ago?” Rolfe remarked.

“Oh, a mere trifle. It was nothing. The Austrian press made a great stir about it, as they always do. All news from Servia emanates from the factory across the river yonder, at Semlin. If the journalists dared to put foot on, Servian soil they’d soon find themselves under arrest, I can tell you. No, the broad lines of policy of both Petrovitch and Pashitch are identical. They intend to develop the country by the introduction of foreign capital. The king himself told me so at an audience I had a month ago. He then told me, in confidence, that he had invited the Doctor to return and rejoin the Ministry. That is why I firmly believe that the poor Doctor, one of the best and most straightforward statesmen in Europe, has fallen a victim to his enemies.”

“Then you will set to work to discover what is known among the Opposition?” urged the young man.

“I promise you I will. But, of course, in strictest confidence,” was the Minister’s reply. “Petrovitch is my friend, as well as yours. I know only too well of the bitter enmity towards him in some quarters, especially among the partisans of the late king and a certain section of the Opposition in the Skuptchina. Mention of his name there causes cheers from the Government benches, but howls from the enemies of law and order. There was, some three years ago, a dastardly plot against his life, as you know.”

“No, I don’t know it. I have never heard about it,” was Rolfe’s reply.

“Ah! he never speaks about it, of course,” Sir Charles said, reflectively. “While driving out at Topschieder with his little orphan niece, of whom he was very fond, a bomb was thrown at the carriage. The poor child was blown to atoms, the horses were maimed, the carriage smashed to matchwood, and the coachman so injure that he died within an hour. The Doctor alone escaped with nothing more serious than a cut across the cheek. But that terrible death of his dead sister’s child was a terrible blow to him, and he has not been since in Belgrade. Because of that, I expect, he has hesitated to obey the king’s command to return to office.”

“Awful! I never knew of that. Maud has never told me,” said Rolfe. “What blackguards to kill an innocent child! Was the man who threw the bomb caught?”

“Yes. And the conspiracy was revealed by me activity of the secret police. They made a report to the Minister of Justice, who showed it to me in confidence.”

“Then you actually know who threw the explosive?”

“I know also who was responsible for the dastardly conspiracy – who aided and abetted it, and who furnished the assassins with money and promised a big reward if they encompassed the Doctor’s death!” said the Minister, slowly and seriously.

“You do! Who?” cried Rolfe.

“It was someone well-known to you,” was his reply. “The inquiries made by the Servian secret police led them far afield from Belgrade. They traced the conspiracy to its source – a source which would amaze you, as it would stagger the world. And if I am not much mistaken, Rolfe, this second plot has been formed and carried out by the same person whose first plot failed!”