They had not drawn nearer to the Palace, but had threaded their way through the outer portions of the shrubberies, keeping near to the boundary wall, and coming, after some ten minutes' walk, upon the cottage of the friendly gardener.
The duke stopped as the patch of yellow light from its windows came into view, then quietly led his companions to a stone bench that lay almost hidden in rhododendrons. Here, after seeing the two ladies made comfortable, he left them. The moon had risen and the tangled foliage of the garden was all grey-green and shadow, through which the broken statuary rose, here and there, like pale ghosts of an evil past, looking down on the intruders within their domain of memories.
Armand was away some time, and when he returned he had with him a tall, broad-shouldered man wearing the livery of the keepers of the royal gardens. He stood awkwardly before them, changing from one foot to the other and twisting his green cap nervously in his huge fingers. The duke laid a hand affectionately on the big shoulder.
"These ladies, Pia, and this gentleman, are those of whom we have been speaking." Then turning to Edward, he went on, "I have told this good fellow everything, and although he seems dazed at the whole affair, he is with us heart and soul, as I knew he would be. He has no love for Dasso--and he knows of others who will help us."
At the mention of Dasso's name, the man had looked up, a mask of malignant hate, and the duke, noting it, had given a little smile of satisfaction.
The cottage to which the party was conducted was a roomy building, but of a single storey. Pia's wife at once took charge of Anna and Galva, who were both now showing some signs of weariness. The good woman, noticing this, parted a curtain at the further end of the room, and taking a lamp from a bracket, led the ladies to her bedchamber. The men, left alone, were not slow to take the opportunity of discussing ways and means.
Their plan of action was a simple one. They were to lie hidden where they were until the king was in extremis. Pia, whose daughter was employed as a still-room maid at the Palace, would give them information as to the progress of the royal patient. In the mean time Pia would see that the little staircase which Anna Paluda had used to such good purpose fifteen years before, was free of access, and that the door which gave on to the grounds, and which had fallen into disuse, was cleared of the tangled creepers which he said now all but covered it.