Dennis Wheatley - The Rising Storm

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

THE OUTCOME OF THE MISSION

ROGERstood aghast, staring in dismay at the young, brown-faced Aztec Prince with the beautifully embroidered clothes and gaily feathered headdress. The plot that he and Isabella had hatched for getting Don Diego sent to Paris had recoiled on their own heads. They had been too clever, and were now hoist with their own petard; or at least separated by it more effectually than they could have been by anything else short of death or prison.

"For what are you waiting, Monsieur?" The little Indian grasped his sleeve and pulled at it impatiently. "Every moment is precious!"

"I have told you," Roger muttered, shaking off his hold. "I cannot go to Paris."

"Cannot go to Paris ?" Quetzal repeated in astonishment. "Do you mean that you abandon my mistress?"

Roger bit his lip, then burst out: "God knows I have no wish to! But 'tis impossible for me to leave Aranjuez. I have business here that no other person can handle for me."

The boy's eyes suddenly filled with hate. "Business 1" he cried. "How can you mention it in the same breath with my mistress? I had believed you loved her. Yet you are willing to leave her to be poisoned by that fiend rather than sacrifice some interest of your own."

The midday sun was glaring down. Roger pulled out his handker­chief and mopped his perspiring face; then he said firmly: "Listen, Quetzal. I swear to you that I am no less devoted to your mistress than yourself. But there is a thing called duty as well as one called love; and sometimes they conflict. Mine, for the moment, is to remain here. Yours is to catch the Condesa up as swiftly as you can, and do your utmost to protect her while on the road to Paris. Tell her, I beg, that my business here should not take long, and that the instant it is con­cluded I shall follow her. And that I love her more than anything in the world. Will you do that for me?"

Impressed by Roger's evident earnestness and emotion, the boy nodded. "So be it, then. I will give her your message."

Without another word he turned and ran back to the gates outside which he had been standing. Roger, too, turned and, shaken to the depths by his recent encounter, walked slowly away. He had not covered fifty paces before the carriage that Quetzal had had waiting to take them to Madrid issued from the gates, its horses moving at a gallop, and passed him, covering him in a cloud of dust.

As he watched it disappear his thoughts were chaotic. Isabella had no idea of the importance of the mission he had been given, so what would she think of him? How soon could he follow her? He could not force Count Florida Blanca to give him an audience immediately. It was unlikely that he would be able to get away from Aranjuez for at least another week. And Don Diego intended to travel at high speed. They would be half-way to Paris, or further, before he could catch them up.

But of what was he thinking ? Even when he had seen Count Florida Blanca he would not be free to go to Paris. His mission would still tie him. Mr. Pitt was anxiously awaiting the decision he had been sent to force. Whether it was for peace or war, he must carry it without an hour's delay back to London. In his shock and distress at finding Isabella gone he had promised to follow her; but he could do so only by breaking his promise to his master.

He had also told Quetzal that he loved her better than anything in the world. Was that really true? If it was he would be with Quetzal in the carriage on his way to Madrid at this moment. The fact that her life was in danger should have counted more with him than even Mr. Pitt's business. But was it? If Don Diego had really intended to poison her surely he would have done so before leaving for Paris, so that he would be free to make his bid for Georgina's hand on the journey.

If only their plan had worked everything would have been so simple. They could have waited in Aranjuez until he had his answer from Florida Blanca, then gone straight to London. But nowl What was to be done? What could be done? He could only hope and pray that his poor Isabella would survive the journey to Paris. If she did it would go a long way to show that her fears of being poisoned had no real founda­tion. As soon as he was through with his mission he could go to Paris, and to elope with her from there should not be difficult. What, though, if she never reached Paris? He could still go there, call Don Diego out and do his damnedest to kill him in a duel. But that would not bring Isabella back. Would he ever get over her loss? Yes, he had counted her as dead before and got over it, so he would do so again. Yet the thought of her dying in agony was unbearable.

Fears for her safety, distress that she would think he had abandoned her quite callously, and black frustration obsessed his thoughts for the rest of the day and most of the night. But on the Friday morning he got a grip of himself again.

He began to see things from a different angle. Fate had played such an extraordinary part in dictating the makes and breaks of his romance with Isabella, and now the blind goddess had intervened between them yet again. Perhaps, after all, Destiny did not intend their union. On the long journey to Paris Isabella would not be able to guard herself so carefully as she had while at home, and there would be many oppor­tunities for Don Diego to put poison in her food. Therefore, if she sur­vived the journey it could be taken as fair proof that Georgina was right, and that Isabella's husband had no intention of killing her.

Suddenly it occurred to him that, if that proved the case, he would no longer be committed to elope with her. She had refused to leave Naples with him when his passion was at its height; and, although it had since cooled, he had instantly responded to her appeal to come to Spain. It was no fault of his that their elopement had fallen through. So, since only her danger had brought him to Spain, if it emerged that she had never really been in danger, why should he, the moment he was free, dash off to Paris and enter on fresh plans to tie her life with his?

He had forced himself to close his mind against all the arguments that Georgina and her father had used in their attempts to dissuade him from running away with Isabella; but now he felt free to contemplate them in all seriousness and, as he had really known from the beginning, life with her unmarried to him in England would have been one long fight against difficulties and distresses. He had been willing to pay that price, but Fate had relented at the last moment and, it seemed now, still held for him a happier future.

Nevertheless, illogical as he knew it to be, he still felt a sense of guilt towards Isabella; and his anxiety for her safety continued to harass him to such an extent that, as the only means of temporarily freeing his mind from it, he decided that he must endeavour to con­centrate all his thoughts on his mission. So at an early hour he went to the Palace and called upon Heredia.

The Caballero expressed pleasure but mild surprise at seeing him again so soon, and said that since returning from Toledo he had had no opportunity to discuss Roger's matter with the Prime Minister; how­ever, he hoped to be able to arrange something for him by Sunday.

When Sunday came Heredia was urbane and courteous as ever, but still could give no definite date for an audience. He suggested that, while Count Florida Blanca disposed of other most pressing affairs, Roger might spend a few nights in Madrid with profit, and offered to do the honours of the capital for him.

Roger politely declined the invitation, then added coldly: "I am much surprised, Seiior Caballero, at the little weight that His Excellency the Prime Minister appears to attach to the fact that His Britannic Majesty's Prime Minister had sent a personal envoy to him. It is the desire of my master to settle the matters that lie between our countries amicably; but I have now been here a week and your master has not yet even found time to hear what I have to say. Should His Excellency continue to find himself too occupied to receive me during the course of the next three days, I shall be compelled to assume that it is because he has no wish to do so. My duty then will plainly be to return to England at once, and report His Excellency's attitude."