Part 25 (1/2)
When Gorman made up his mind to stay on Salissa he wrote three letters. One of them was to King Konrad Karl and was addressed to an hotel in Paris. He said briefly that the Donovans would not sell the island and that it was not the least use trying to arrange a marriage with the Queen. He advised the King to enjoy himself as much as he could in Paris and to spend his money before it was taken from him. He added a postscript.
”If the Emperor sends a man called von Moll to negotiate with you--a sort of naval officer who likes giving orders--ask him whether he had many casualties in his last sea battle.”
His next letter was to Steinwitz. In it, too, he announced the complete failure of his mission.
”The fact is,” he added, by way of explanation, ”that these Americans don't know enough about your Emperor to be properly impressed. Could you send along a good-sized photo of him, in uniform if possible? I am sure it would have a great effect.”
Then he wrote to Sir Bartholomew Bland-Potterton. Knowing how all members of our governing cla.s.ses delight in official fussiness he threw his letter into a telegraphic form.
”Things more complicated than antic.i.p.ated,” he wrote. ”Will Government recognize Salissa as independent state? Query att.i.tude President U. S. A. Urgent.--GORMAN.”
He read over what he had written with extreme satisfaction. It pleased him to think that Steinwitz would immediately go out and buy an enormous photograph of the Emperor; that he would send it out to Salissa with perfect confidence in the effect it would produce. It was also pleasant to think of Konrad Karl and Madame Ypsilante making efforts to get rid of the remains of Donovan's money by scattering it about the streets of Paris. But his despatch to Bland-Potterton pleased him most of all. He imagined that gentleman, swollen with the consciousness of important news, das.h.i.+ng off to the Foreign Office in a taxi-cab, posing Ministers of State with unanswerable conundrums, very probably ruffling the calm waters of Was.h.i.+ngton with cablegrams of inordinate length and fierce urgency.
He rang the bell for Smith.
”I've just written some letters,” he said; ”will you send them off to the _Ida_ and ask Captain Wilson to have them posted when he arrives in London or earlier if he calls at any intermediate port.”
”Yes, sir. Certainly, sir. Beg pardon, sir, but will you be staying on in the palace?”
”For a week or two, Smith.”
”Thank you, sir. I'll make all arrangements. Your luggage will be fetched from the steamer. If you leave your keys with me I'll see to the unpacking.”
Gorman had no keys.
”By the way, Smith, what's your Christian name?”
”Edward, sir.”
”I asked,” said Gorman, ”because I'd a sort of idea that Captain von Moll called you Fritz last night.”
”Very likely, sir. I didn't notice. It struck me, sir--I don't know whether you noticed it--that the German gentleman wasn't quite himself after dinner. He might have called me Fritz, mistaking me for some one else. I understand, sir, that Fritz is a common name in Germany.”
”Very likely,” said Gorman.
Smith left the room. In ten minutes he was back again.
”Luncheon is served, sir. In the small verandah at the south end of the palace. Shall I show you the way?”
He guided Gorman to the small verandah, a pleasant, shady place, opening off the room in which they had dined the night before.
”Is the Queen coming?” asked Gorman.
”I've sent a maid to inform her Majesty the luncheon is served, sir.”
Smith stood ready for his duties at the end of the table. Gorman noticed that three places had been laid.
”Mr. Donovan coming?” he asked.
”No, sir. Mr. Donovan scarcely feels well enough. I'm expecting Mr.