Читать книгу The Traitors of the Tropics; or, Nick Carter's Royal Flush - Carter Nicholas - Страница 5

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There was no train from Newport that night by the time the Princess Laura Marcos, mother of the wounded prince, got the telephone message from Miguel, and she did not feel equal to motoring the distance at night.

By eleven o’clock the next morning, however, she stood in the library at Crownledge, talking to Miguel. He had met her at the station, and though he had not been a welcome visitor at Crownledge heretofore, he had brought her to her home now as a matter of course.

Claudia had met her Aunt Laura at the door, and had said that she was staying at Crownledge to help take care of the gentleman who had been hurt in the grounds at Crownledge.

The princess had wondered why Claudia spoke of her cousin in such a peculiar way. “The gentleman who has been hurt” did not sound as if there were much cousinly affection.

But, then, Claudia Solado had quarreled with Marcos several times, and probably they had had a tiff now. That would accent for it.

“Of course,” murmured his mother to herself. “I never knew two young people who liked each other who were not always quarreling. That does not mean anything. Still, considering the poor boy is sick——”

Claudia had slipped out of the room, saying she wanted to tell the trained nurse that her patient’s mother was coming up.

The nurse had never been told the name of her patient. She had heard him vaguely spoken of as ‘Marcos,’ but she had caught it as ‘Marsh.’ Indeed, she had asked Claudia, after the departure of Nick Carter, if that was the name, to which the girl, inspired by a sudden idea, had replied in the affirmative.

Claudia went into the bedchamber, and telling the nurse that a lady had come to visit the patient, went to the bed and bent over her cousin.

“Marcos!”

“Yes?”

“Your mother is here.”

“Who sent for her?”

“I don’t know. But Miguel is downstairs.”

Marcus started up in bed, but, catching the reproving eye of the nurse, he fell back again, and permitting that cool-handed, nerveless person to rearrange the covers. Then he turned to Claudia and whispered:

“How dare that scoundrel come into my home?”

“I’ll find that out for you later. But listen to me.”

“Go on.”

“When your mother comes in, don’t recognize her. You are a Mr. Marsh, and you were coming to see Mr. Marcos, who went out of town last night. Do you understand all that?”

“Of course I do. Now that Miguel is here, I know that all kinds of deceit has to be practiced to get the better of him. Well, I’d do anything for the sake of my beloved country. Better get that nurse out of the room.”

“She’s gone. She won’t come back till after the interview. I’ll take care of that,” the girl assured him.

Now that Claudia had attended to one side of the affair, she had to look after the other. She must find an opportunity to whisper a warning to her Aunt Laura.

She went back to the library and beckoned to her aunt. Miguel was about to walk forward with the princess, but something in Claudia’s eye warned her. So she coolly stepped away from him and stood alone by a window, with the girl.

The hint that they wanted to speak to each other confidentially was too positive for Miguel to pretend to misunderstand, although he would have given a great deal to know what they intended to talk about.

So short was the conference, however, that he felt sure nothing of importance had passed between them.

“Do not recognize Marcos, aunt,” whispered Claudia. “Beware of Miguel. I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Who is it in bed, then?”

“It is Marcos. But pretend you don’t know him. He is supposed to be a Mr. Marsh.”

“I understand.”

The Princess Marcos, mother of the ruler of Joyalita, did understand. She was an able, quick-thinking woman of the world, and she had seen enough of diplomacy and statesmanship to make her much more sophisticated than the average woman of mere society.

Claudia led the way up the broad, old-fashioned staircase, followed by Miguel and the princess.

Claudia softly opened the door of the bedchamber, and stood aside to let her Aunt Laura enter.

Miguel followed the princess, and Claudia went in last, closing the door after her.

The only occupants of the room were the three persons who had just entered and the quiet figure in the bed. He held a hand over his face, as if he could not bear even the dim light of the chamber. A white bandage was around his forehead.

“Remember, aunt!” whispered Claudia, in her ear. “Mr. Marsh! You do not know him. Miguel would not believe me, so I have not told him.”

The princess walked over to the bed, saying “Marcos! My boy!” As she reached the bedside, she stopped in well-simulated astonishment, and, looking around, asked: “Why, Claudia, who is this gentleman?”

“It is Mr. Marsh. He is a friend of Marcos’. Who did you expect to see?”

“I thought it was Marcos,” was the answer.

“Marcos, aunt? Why, how could that be? Marcos went to Joyalita yesterday. He was sorry to go, because he would have liked to stay with Mr. Marsh. As it was, he gave orders that Mr. Marsh should be carefully attended until able to get up safely.”

“I am very sorry, sir,” said Marcos’ mother, turning again to the bed. “I thought it was my son. But I should not possess natural humanity, if I did not sympathize very heartily with you, even though I have never met you before. I trust you will soon be restored to health.”

“Thank you, madam!” returned Marcos quietly.

She gave him a graceful bow and walked toward the door, without even looking back.

What it cost her to do this only she knew. But she had a part to play for the benefit of her beloved son, even though she did not understand why, and she nerved herself to go through it to the end.

As she went out, Miguel looked at the bed. Disheveled, with the water-soaked bandage around his brow to allay the fever and relieve his aching head, Marcos did not look like himself.

“Confound him! I can’t swear to him!” muttered Miguel. “Did Marcos go to Joyalita? Did he, or didn’t he?”

Outside the sick room the three walked down to the library, where Prince Miguel bowed, and expressed his sorrow to have brought the princess from Newport on a misunderstanding. Then he walked out to his taxicab and told the driver to speed downtown as fast as he could.

When Miguel had gone, Laura turned to her aunt with admiration and pleasure shining in her eyes.

“You were splendid, aunt. If Miguel had ever found out that this was really Marcos, he would have known that the person representing him who has gone to Joyalita could not be he. That would have meant all kinds of trouble for Marcos and Joyalita, too.”

But before she had finished, the mother was upstairs again, bending over her son and asking him what it all meant.