When Roger asked if Don Diego knew of their own affair, Isabella had shaken her head. "Had he heard anything of it, I feel sure he would have questioned me; but he has never done so. Fortunately there is little communication between this Court and that of Tuscany, and my cousin, who escorted me hither, naturally kept a still tongue for the family's sake. My aunt, of course, wrote to my mother of it, and it was from fear that someone who knew about my clandestine stay in Florence should arrive here that she hurried my marriage forward; but the fact that I had retained my virginity saved me from all but mild reproaches at having been most foolishly indiscreet. She and my father have since returned to Spain; so I do not think anyone here, except my friend Dorina Francayilla, will realize that we have even met before."
"There could be no harm in letting it be known that we met at Fontainebleau," Roger hazarded.
To that she had agreed, and added: "I think it might be well to do so. If we are to meet frequently in company a common interest in the Court of France will provide good grounds for our having a lot to say to one another."
During his walk down the hill Roger turned these matters over in his mind, and found them all extremely satisfactory. On arriving at Crocielles he ordered cans of water to be brought up to his room so that he could have a bath, and while he was having it contemplated his next move.
On his voyage from Marseilles he had decided to make capital out of what he felt to be Mr. Pitt's unmerited rebuke regarding his earlier mission. The Prime Minister had tentatively suggested that he might have sent Madame Marie Antoinette's letter by way of the British Embassy bag, and Roger still felt that to have done so would seriously have jeopardized the credit he was then hoping to gain with her. But he saw now that where he had been at fault was in not making use of British diplomatic facilities when he had arrived in Florence. He could easily have gone to the Ambassador, Lord Hervey, told him the facts, and got him to arrange a private audience with the Grand Duke.
At the time the idea had never occurred to him, but had it done so he could have saved himself a vast amount of trouble, considerable danger, and probably the loss of Isabella. Now, profiting by his previous shortsightedness, he had made up his mind to wait upon Sir William Hamilton, the British Envoy in Naples, as the best and simplest means of securing an audience with Queen Caroline.
When he had told Isabella his intention during the past night, she agreed to its wisdom, and pointed out that as they planned for him to enter Neapolitan society at once, the sooner he waited upon Sir William the better; for if he delayed it might later be thought strange that he had failed to present himself on his arrival. Then she asked him if he knew anything about the diplomat.
When Roger replied that he knew him only by name, she said:
"He is a cousin of the Duke of Hamilton, and must now be a man of about sixty. 'Tis said that when he first entered your diplomatic service he had ambitions, but he has been en post here for over a quarter of a century, and the laissez-faire atmosphere of the city of the bay has now, no doubt, reconciled him to remaining in this backwater until his career is terminated. He has the bearing of a true aristocrat and is intelligent beyond most. Moreover, he is a man of great taste. His collection of Roman antiques can scarcely be rivalled, and his mistress, although a flamboyant creature, is one of the most beautiful women I have ever met."
"You know her, then?" Roger exclaimed in some surprise.
"Everybody does," had come the quick reply. "She fives with him at the Palazzo Sessa, but the affaire is conducted very discreetly. His wife, who brought him his fine fortune, died in '82; and evidently after a few years of widowhood he found casual amours unsatisfactory to a man of his age and quiet tastes. Three seasons ago he brought out two ladies from England to winter with him in Naples. The elder, a Mrs. Cadogan, he installed as his housekeeper, and it was said that the younger, a Miss Amy Hart, had come here to study art and music. They repeated the visit last year, and are here again now. But there are so many English visitors to Naples that the truth of the matter soon leaked out. Miss Hart, or "Emma", as he calls her, is Mrs. Cadogan's daughter, and was an artist's model. She sat, I am told, for several paintings by your great artist Romney. Meanwhile she was kept and educated by Sir William's nephew, Charles Hamilton; but he became heavily in debt, so his uncle struck a bargain with him. He paid off his debts in exchange for his beautiful mistress."
"Since all this is known, I find it more surprising than ever that she should be received into society."
"You would not think so if you knew Naples better. The people here count sweetness of disposition as of greater worth than virtue. She is well behaved and does the honours of the Palazzo Sessa charmingly. 'Tis believed by many that they are secretly married and that in reality she is Lady Hamilton. In any case Queen Caroline, whose own morals are not beyond reproach, has made a friend of her, although, of course, she is not officially received at Court."
A few hours later Roger was still pondering the information Isabella had given him about this interesting menage, when he drove up to the Palazzo Sessa. Sir William was at home, and, after only a short wait, received him.
The elderly diplomat's aquiline features were bronzed by the sun of many Neapolitan summers, but its enervating climate did not seem to have undermined his quick perception, and Roger took an immediate liking to him. As soon as he had disclosed his business, and produced the miniature of the Dauphin, Sir William said:
"Although you tell me that you are acting privately on behalf of Madame Marie Antoinette, and Whitehall has no cognizance of your mission, I see great possibilities in turning it to the advantage of Britain, so will willingly do all I can to assist you."
As Roger thanked him, he went on: "You will no doubt be aware that Naples is still tied to France by the Bourbon Family Compact. For many years it has been my principal task to loosen that tie, and my efforts have not been altogether unsuccessful. In that, of course, I have been much assisted by the attitude of Queen Caroline, and the friendship of General Acton."
Roger knew that Sir William referred to the Neapolitan Prime Minister, but knowing nothing of the General's history, he committed the faux pas of remarking: "It must certainly have been a great asset to you, sir, that King Ferdinand should have chosen an Englishman for his principal councillor."
Sir William raised a humorous grey eyebrow. " 'Tis stretching something of a long bow to term him that; for he is half French, was born in France, educated there, and has spent the whole of his adult life in Italy."
"I pray you forgive me, sir," Roger said, with a slight flush. "But this is my first visit to Naples and I am abysmally ignorant of Neapolitan affairs."
"Then I had best tell you something of them," smiled Sir William; "at least to the extent of a few brief details about the people you will have to meet, and on whom the success or failure of your mission hinges. John Acton has carved out a fine career for himself, as his father was no more than a physician. He was travelling in France with the father of Mr. Edward Gibbon and on their coming to Besancon he decided that it would be a good place in which to settle and establish a practice. He married a French lady, and John was born a year or so afterwards. John's uncle had some influence at the Court of Florence, and at his suggestion the boy entered the Tuscan navy. His big chance did not come until he was nearly forty. It was in '75. Spain and Tuscany sent a joint expedition against the pirates of Algiers and the affair proved a serious disaster; but John, who had command of a frigate, performed prodigies of valour in the retreat and from that point received rapid promotion."