Diary of a Drug Fiend

The Bubble Bursts 135 “‘T don’t understand this at all,’’ and he bustled round to his desk. ‘‘ Where’s our courier ?”’ called out Lou. “It’s for him to explain everything.” The manager became violently solemn. “Your Ladyship is undoubtedly right,” he broke out. But the conventional words did not conceal the fact that his mental attitude was that of a man who has suddenly fallen through a trap-door into a cellar full of something spiky. ‘‘ There’s some mistake here,” he went on. ‘ Let me see.” He called to the girl at the desk in Italian. She fished about in a drawer and produced a telegram. He handed it over to me. It was addressed to Laroche. “Urgent bisnes oblige live for Roma night. Pay bill packup join me Museo Palace Hotel Napls in time to cach miday train. Pendragon.” The words were mostly mis-spelt ; but the meaning was clear enough. Some one must be playing a practical joke. Probably that paragraph in the paper was part of the same idea. So I supposed Laroche was in the hotel in Naples wondering why we didn’t turn up. “But where's our luggage ?’”’ cried Lou. “Why,” said the manager, “‘ your Ladyship’s courier paid the bill as usual. The servants helped him to pack your luggage, and he just managed to catch the morning boat.” “ But what time was this ? ” cried Lou, and scanned the telegram closely. It must have been received within a few minutes of our leaving the hotel. The girl handed over another telegram addressed to the manager. “ Sir Petre add Lady Pendragom espress ther regrets at having so leve so sudenl and mill always have the warmest remebrances of the hapy times they had at D.D.F. K