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