Part 21 (1/2)

”Go row,” she said, ”quick--quick--slick.”

”Slick” was a word which she had recently learned from Smith. He often used it in urging on his staff of housemaids. He was forced to use an English word now and then when he could not express his meaning in the Megalian language. There is no equivalent to ”slick” in Megalian.

What the Queen wanted most at the moment was to be quick and slick in getting off. She and Kalliope ran down to the steps where their boat lay moored. Smith was there, looking at the strange steamer.

”Oh, Smith,” said the Queen, ”is it a yacht?”

”Don't know, your Majesty,” said Smith. ”Never saw her before. She looks to me like a foreigner, your Majesty, not an English boat.”

”Well, I'll soon find out,” said the Queen. ”We're going off to her.”

Kalliope had already cast off the boat's mooring rope and sat ready at the oars.

”Beg pardon, your Majesty,” said Smith, ”but it might be as well for me to go off first. Foreign sailors are not always as polite as they might be. Not knowing that your Majesty is Queen of the island they might say things which were disrespectful.”

The Queen would not listen to this suggestion.

”Come along with us if you like,” she said, ”but I'm not going to wait till you come back.”

Smith stepped into the boat and took his seat in the bow. Kalliope had the oars. The Queen sat in the stern.

The men on the deck of the steamer were very busy. They were overhauling and coiling down what looked like a long rubber hose. An officer, a young man in a smart uniform, was directing the work. When the boat was near the steamer, the officer hailed and asked in German what boat it was. Kalliope was rowing vigorously. Before any answer could be made to the hail the boat ran alongside the steamer.

The Queen had learned German at school, carefully and laboriously, paying much attention to the vagaries of irregular verbs. She began to think out a sentence in which to describe her boat, herself and her servants. But Smith took it for granted that she knew no German.

Before her sentence had taken shape he answered the officer. The young man leaned over the bulwark of the steamer and stared at the Queen while Smith spoke. Then he went away. Smith explained to the Queen what had happened.

”I asked him to call the captain, your Majesty. I told him that you are the Queen of the island. I was speaking to him in German, your Majesty.”

The Queen knew that. She might be slow in framing a German sentence when an unexpected demand for such a thing was made on her, but thanks to the patience and diligence of a certain fat German governess, she could understand the language fairly well. She had understood every word that Smith said. He had not told the young officer that she was Queen of the island. He had described her as the daughter of the rich American who had bought Salissa from King Konrad Karl. She made no attempt at the moment to understand why Smith said one thing in German and offered her something slightly different as a translation; and she did not question him on the point. She was content to leave him to suppose that she knew no German at all.

The boat, which had run quickly alongside of the steamer near her bow, now lay beside the accommodation ladder which hung amids.h.i.+ps. A tall officer stood on the platform outside the bulwarks and looked down at the Queen. He was a heavily built blonde man with neatly trimmed beard and moustache. He wore a naval uniform and stood stiffly erect, his heels together, while he raised his hand to the formal salute. The Queen spoke to Smith.

”Ask him,” she said, ”if he will come ash.o.r.e and breakfast with us.”

Before Smith could translate, the officer replied to her.

”I speak English,” he said, ”it is not necessary that he translate. I have the honour to present myself--Captain von Moll.”

”Very pleased to meet you, Captain von Moll. Won't you come ash.o.r.e and breakfast with us?”

”I regret that is impossible,” said von Moll. ”I am much occupied.”

He spoke slowly, p.r.o.nouncing each word carefully. He looked steadily at the Queen, not taking his eyes from her face for a moment. His words were civil. His att.i.tude was strictly correct. But there was something in his stare which the Queen did not like, a suggestion of insolence. She felt that this man regarded her as an inferior, a member of an inferior s.e.x perhaps, or one of an inferior race.

American women, especially American girls, are not accustomed to think of themselves as men's inferiors. American citizens find it impossible to believe that any one in the world can look down on them. The Queen was not annoyed. She was piqued and interested.

”Perhaps,” she said, ”you will come for luncheon or dinner. We dine at half-past seven.”

Von Moll saluted again with formal politeness.