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!"