132 The Diary of a Drug Fiend
“* Send for our courier, Hector Laroche,” she insisted.
The consul shrugged his shoulders. ‘‘ But where
is he?”
“Why,” she said, ‘he must be looking for us all
over the town. When he got to the Fauno Ebbrio
and found we weren’t there, and heard what had
happened, he must have been very anxious about us.”
. “In fact, I don’t see why he isn’t here now,” said
the consul. ‘He must have known that you were
arrested.”
““ Perhaps something’s happened to him,” suggested
Lou. “ But that would really be too curious a coin-
cidence.”’ , .
‘Well, these things do happen,’’ admitted the consul.
He seemed somehow more at his ease with her, and
better disposed, than when he was talking to me. Her
magnetic beauty and her evident aristocracy could
not help but have their effect.
I found myself admiring her immensely, in quite a
new way. It had never occurred to me that she could
rise to a situation with such superb aplomb.
‘Won’t you sit down ? ”’ said the consul, ‘“‘ I’m sure
you must be very tired.”
He put a chair for her, and went back to his seat on
the sofa.
“It’s a little awkward, you see,” he went on. “I
don’t, as a matter of fact, believe all I read in the
papers. And there are several very curious points
about the situation which you don’t seem to see your-
self. And I don’t mind admitting that your failure to
see them makes a very favourable impression.”
He paused and bit his lip, and pulled at his neck. |
“It’s very difficult,” he continued at last. ‘The
facts of the case, on the surface, are undeniably ugly.
You are found in disguise in one of the worst places in
Naples, and you have actually arms in your hands,
which is strengst verboten, as they say in Germany.
On the other hand, you give an account of yourself
which makes you out to be such utter fools, if you will