Part 4 (1/2)

Later on nearly every amba.s.sador in Europe had a look at the ”instrument”--Gorman called it an instrument sometimes, sometimes a protocol--and they were all baffled. The American amba.s.sador in Megalia offered Gorman's cousin a post in the U. S. A. diplomatic service, a high testimonial to his abilities. Miss Daisy and her heirs became the independent sovereigns of the Island of Salissa. Donovan promised to pay down the purchase money as soon as he was satisfied that the island really existed. The most Gorman could screw out of him in the way of an advance was 5,000.

The evening after the ”instrument” was signed, Gorman had a visit from Goldsturmer, the well-known jeweller. The man, a rather unctuous, but very suave and polite German Jew, was shown into Gorman's sitting-room.

”I think,” he said, ”that you are a friend of his Majesty, King Konrad Karl of Megalia?”

Gorman was on his guard and determined to give away no information of any kind. The King's nervous fear of the Emperor's displeasure had impressed Gorman with the necessity of keeping the sale of Salissa as secret as possible; but he could hardly avoid admitting that he knew King Konrad Karl. The affairs of the wine company had occupied some s.p.a.ce in the daily papers, and the names of the directors had been published. His name and the King's had appeared together very frequently.

”And perhaps,” said Goldsturmer, ”you also know Madame Ypsilante?”

”I have seen the lady,” said Gorman.

Goldsturmer was not in the least discouraged by Gorman's reticence.

”I cannot,” he said, ”expect you to answer more frankly unless I am equally frank with you. I am at this time engaged in a business transaction of some importance with Madame Ypsilante. The sum of money involved is very large. It is”--Goldsturmer's tone became reverent--”10,000.”

”Can she pay?” said Gorman, ”not that it's any affair of mine whether she can or not.”

”The lady herself cannot pay; but the King--she tells me that his Majesty has recently sold an estate situated in Megalia to a wealthy American. Now if that is true----”

”Perhaps in that case the King might pay,” said Gorman.

”I wonder,” said Goldsturmer, ”if the sale has taken place?”

”Shouldn't think it likely,” said Gorman.

Goldsturmer paused. For quite a minute he sat looking at Gorman. Then he said:

”In a matter of this kind I am prepared to pay for information which would be of use to me. I shall speak frankly. It would be worth my while to give one per cent. of the sum involved to any one who could tell me whether the sale which Madame mentioned to me has really been effected.”

”Ah,” said Gorman, ”one per cent. on, did you say, 10,000?”

”It would amount to 100.”

”I wish I could earn it,” said Gorman, ”but unfortunately I know nothing at all about the matter.”

Political life, so Gorman has often told me, is the very best education obtainable in one respect. The politician learns to lie fluently and without discomfort. Even politicians are not, of course, always believed, but they know how to lie in a way which makes it very difficult for any one to give expression to unbelief. Goldsturmer may actually have believed Gorman. He certainly pretended to. He did not even offer a two per cent. bonus.

”I must ask you to pardon me,” he said, ”for occupying your time with my inquiries. I thank you for the way in which you have received me.

Good-bye.”

He bowed his way to the door. Then he turned to Gorman again.

”You will understand, I am sure, that mine was a purely business inquiry. I am not interested in any of the scandal which unfortunately is connected with the name of his Majesty, or with that of the charming lady of whom I spoke. Still less am I concerned with the state affairs of Megalia. I have no connection with Megalia.”

Gorman sat thinking for a while after Goldsturmer left him. The jeweller's visit and his questions were natural enough. Such inquiries are made every day. There was nothing surprising in the offer of one per cent. on the money which was to change hands in return for information. Gorman was a politician. It was not the first time he had been offered a commission. He hoped it would not be the last. What puzzled him was Goldsturmer's final remark. Why should the man have said he had no interest in the state affairs of Megalia unless indeed he was interested, was on the track of a suspected secret?

Once more Gorman lamented the fact that women were mixed up in a business affair.

”d.a.m.n Madame Ypsilante,” he said.

Then, finding some relief for his feelings in expressing them aloud: