"A service to her Royal Highness is a service to me.
Amuse yourself; you will find some fine paintings in the west
gallery."
"I trust her Royal Highness is none the worse for the fright,"
Maurice replied. He also remarked (mentally) that he did not see
her Highness anywhere. Several introductions followed, and he
found himself chatting with the British minister.
"Carewe?" the Englishman repeated thoughtfully. "Are you not
Maurice Carewe, of the American Legation in Vienna?"
"Yes."
"May I ask you a few questions?"
"A thousand."
"A fellow-countryman of mine has mysteriously disappeared. He
left Vienna for Bleiberg, saying that if nothing was heard of
him within a week's time, to make inquiries about him. This
request was left with the British ambassador, who has just
written me, adding that a personal friend of the gentleman in
question was in Bleiberg, and that this friend was Maurice
Carewe, attache to the American Legation. Are you acquainted
with Lord Fitzgerald, son of my late predecessor?"
"I am indeed. I saw him in Vienna," said Maurice; "but he said
nothing to me about coming here," which was true enough.
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