“I represent her mother,” said Reggie.
A wave of emotion shook the deputation. Hilda flushed and looked at Alice, who laughed. His Highness stood very stiff.
“I have not desired that her mother should be represented,” he announced.
“I cannot defend the conduct of your Highness,” said Reggie blandly.
“I do not admit your right to be here, sir,” the Prince cried.
“That makes your conduct still more suspicious,” said Reggie.
“Suspicious!” The Prince gasped and turned upon the others. “He says suspicious!” Horror overwhelmed them all. The Prince was the first to recover his self-control. “Be pleased to follow me, sir,” he said, with awful courtesy. “Hilda, my dear child.” He gave her his arm. “Spoleto!”
The family party and Reggie went down to His Highness’s cabin. Only Hilda was asked to sit, and in perfect calm she sat. Nothing but a shade more colour in her cheeks, a brighter gleam in her eye, confessed that her stately head deigned to take any interest in her strange situation.
The Prince of Ragusa turned to Reggie. “I do not yet know your name, sir.” So Reggie gave him a card. “Mr. Reginald Fortune—a lawyer, sir?”
“I am a surgeon. But let’s hope we shan’t need my professional qualifications.”
“It is very well. You are here to represent my wife. I do not allow that my wife has any right to share my plans for my daughter. But since you have intruded, sir, I do not choose to conceal my intentions. I have resumed my control of my daughter because she is now of an age to take her proper place at my side, to perform her duty to her family, and to carry out the plans which I have formed for her.”
“Admirable. And shall we hear Miss Crowland’s intentions in the matter?” Reggie looked at the girl.
“Be pleased to speak of my daughter as the Duchesse de Zara.”
A throb passed through the yacht. Reggie looked out of the porthole and saw the water sliding by. “So we’re off,” he smiled.
“The yacht sails immediately for Ragusa. I shall not be able to put you ashore, sir. For any discomfort you undergo be pleased to blame yourself and your employer. I see a rashness in your actions which I should have expected from my wife.”
Reggie chuckled. “Well, well. And, of course, you don’t like being rash!”
“On our arrival at Ragusa you may, if you choose, remain and be present at my daughter’s marriage.”
“Oh. Shall I be present, sir?” said Hilda, with a dangerous meekness.
“My dear child!” His Highness said affectionately. “Mr. Fortune—you have the happiness to be present at the betrothal of my daughter, the Duchesse de Zara, to my nephew, the Comte de Spoleto.”
It was Reggie who preserved an appropriate calm. He only gave one chuckle.
“How? But—but it is incredible!” Spoleto cried in French, and recoiled, gesticulating.
The Prince flushed and glared at him.
Hilda stood up. “This is ridiculous, sir,” she said, and was pale.
“Ridiculous, that is the word,” Spoleto cried.
“Be silent, Spoleto. My dear child, you do not understand.”
“I understand enough. You say you are my father. I think I ought to know my father. I—I do not mind knowing you. But this—it is absurd and insulting. I will not hear any more about it. This gentleman—I know nothing about him.” She surveyed Spoleto with disdain. “I do not wish to make his acquaintance.”
“Thank you very much,” Spoleto cried.
“Hilda! Be pleased to remember that you are now to do your duty as my daughter. I do not permit disobedience.”
“It’s no use to talk so,” said Miss Crowland. “I am not a baby.”
His Highness, whose grey hair was becoming dishevelled, made a violent gesture. “English! She is as English as her mother.”
“Oh. If you are going to say things against my mother I will go,” said Miss Crowland. “You came from my mother, sir. I should like to speak to you.”
Reggie bowed and opened the door for her. As they went out he heard Spoleto say in French, “Do you see, my uncle, this does not do,” and then a storm. The house of Ragusa was divided against itself in throes.
On deck, Miss Crowland seemed to have some difficulty in making up her mind what to say. “Does my mother know about this?” she broke out at last.
“That’s between you and your conscience, isn’t it?” Reggie smiled.
“I haven’t told her anything, but she has never told me anything,” Miss Crowland said fiercely. “How did she come to send you here?”
“Some rather odd things happened at school, you know.”
“Did they?” said Miss Crowland, in delighted amazement. “What things?”
“I wonder if you know who little Alice Warenne really is? She is an actress from the Theatre des Variétés in Paris.” Miss Crowland laughed. “She was employed to get a photograph of you, to find out all about you, to arrange for you to be kidnapped like this, and to persuade you to come aboard.”
“Monsieur is a detective!” Alice slid up between them. “Oh, but a very great detective.”
“I knew all that. Except that she is an actress.” Miss Crowland turned to her. “Are you an actress?”
“Darling!” Alice laughed all over her baby face. “That is the prettiest compliment, is it not, M. the detective?”
“If you think she has cheated me, she has not. She told me that the Prince of Ragusa said he was my father, and that he wanted me to come on his yacht. My mother never would tell me anything about my father. I didn’t think that was fair. So I came. And now, Mr.—Mr. Fortune, what will my mother do?”
“What shall we all do?” Reggie laughed. “You’re in a hole and your mother’s in a hole, and the Prince of Ragusa is in the deepest hole of the three.”
“Excepting always M. the
