They traversed the court of the terminal. Many automobiles were parked

there or just leaving; liveried footmen stood awaiting masters and

mistresses; but nowhere was the car of the Princess Mistchenka in

sight.

They stood there, Neeland's porter behind with his suitcase and

luggage, not knowing whether to wait longer or summon a taxicab.

"I don't understand," repeated the Princess impatiently. "I explained

very carefully what I desired. That new groom is stupid. Caron, my

chauffeur, would never have made a mistake unless that idiot groom

misunderstood his instructions."

"Let me go and make some inquiries," said Neeland. "Do you mind

waiting here? I'll not be long----"

He went off, carrying the olive-wood box, which his grasp never

quitted now; and presently the Princess and Ruhannah saw him disappear

among the ranks of automobiles and cabs.

"I don't like it, Rue," repeated the Princess in a low voice. "I

neither understand nor relish this situation."

"Have you any idea----"

"Hush, child! I don't know. That new groom, Verdier, was recommended

by the Russian Embassy. I don't know what to think of this."

"It can't be anything--queer, can it, dear?" asked Rue.

"Anything can have happened. Nothing is likely to have occurred,

however--unless--unless those Apaches were----"

"Naïa!"

"It's possible, I suppose. They may have attacked Picard as part of a

conspiracy. The Russian Embassy may have been deceived in Verdier. All

this may be part of a plan. But--I scarcely believe it.... All the

same, I dislike to take a taxicab----"

She caught sight of Neeland returning; both women moved forward to

meet him.

"I've solved the mystery," he said. "Naïa, your car was run into

outside the station a few minutes after you left it. And I'm sorry to

say that your chauffeur was badly enough hurt to require an

ambulance."

"Where on earth did you learn that?"

"The official at the taxicab control told me. I went to him because

that is where one is likely to receive information."

"Caron hurt!" murmured the Princess. "What a shame! Where did they

take him, Jim?"

"To the Charité."

"I'll go this afternoon. But where is that imbecile groom of mine?"

"It appears that he and a policeman went to a garage on the repair

truck that took your car."

"Was he arrested?"

"I believe so."

"What a contretemps!" exclaimed the Princess Mistchenka. "We shall

have to take a taxicab after all!"




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