Part 28 (1/2)
”Do you mean to say you think the admiral will a.s.sa.s.sinate you?”
”It is as certain as two and two and four. If I return to my navy I follow poor Otto at once. The admiral will know that if I cannot marry the girl the Emperor will not care about me. Perhaps it is better after all that I marry her.”
”I've told you already that you can't.”
”Pooh! You are thinking of the young fellow Phillips. A word to the admiral and Phillips will no longer blockade the way.”
”Look here,” said Gorman, ”there's no use talking that kind of nonsense. Your admiral appears to be a man with a taste for murder, but he can't be allowed to run amok in that way. And Miss Donovan would not marry you even if Phillips was out of the way. Get that into your head once for all.”
”Great Scott and d.a.m.n!” said the King. ”Do you think I want to marry her. No, my friend, there is nothing I desire less except to follow poor Otto. I do not want to marry the girl. To be married to her would make me bored, but it would make me much more bored to die.”
”The thing for you to do,” said Gorman, ”is to stay where you are.
Don't go on board your navy. Donovan has asked you to stay at the palace. You'll be safe here. We won't even ask the admiral to dinner if you'd rather we didn't.”
”It will be dull, dull as the water of a ditch,” said the King mournfully.
”You needn't stay here for ever,” said Gorman. ”There'll be an English s.h.i.+p back in a short time and you can go home in her. Madame will be waiting for you all right.”
”Poor Corinne!” said the King. ”I left her in Paris. Steinwitz said so, and he spoke for the Emperor. 'You go to marry,' he said, 'therefore Madame must stay.'”
”From his point of view he was right there,” said Gorman, ”and it's just as well that Madame did not come with you. Donovan is a broad-minded man; but you couldn't expect him to put up you and Madame in the palace. It would be trying him rather high.”
”Ah,” said the King. ”Poor Corinne! She will be desolate.”
”Well,” said Gorman, ”you'd better come along now and see Donovan.
He ought to be down here to receive you, of course. But these Americans--I'm sure you'll understand--they're not accustomed to kings.”
”Say no more,” said the King, ”not a word. I go to pay my respects. I bow. I abase myself. I am a king. It is true. But I have no money, only a little, a very little left. He is not a king, but he has money.
Gorman, I am not a Bourbon. I am able to learn and forget. He who can write a cheque is a greater man than he who can confer the Order of the Pink Vulture of Megalia. I have learned that. Also I can forget, forget that I am a king.”
We must do Konrad Karl justice. No king was ever more willing to forget his rank than he was. The real trouble with him was that he seldom remembered it.
”Come along then,” said Gorman, ”but don't get talking business to Donovan.”
”Business! Why do you so often misunderstand me, you who ought to know me well? First you think that I desire to marry that girl--as if it were possible that I should. Then you fear that I will talk business.
Am I one that talks business ever, to any one, if I can help it?”
”I mean,” said Gorman, ”don't say anything about buying the island or marrying the girl. Donovan's heart is d.i.c.ky, or he thinks it is, which comes to the same thing--and any sort of worry upsets him.”
”I see it,” said the King. ”I understand. Trust me. Mumm will be the word. Mumm extra sec. Mumm at 190 s.h.i.+llings a dozen. You can trust me.”
King Konrad Karl made himself most agreeable to Donovan. He did not once mention the sale of the island or hint at a marriage with the Queen. He talked about the scenery. He discussed the character, manners and customs of the inhabitants. He inquired whether Donovan were satisfied with the palace, admitted frankly that the accommodation was not all that could be desired. In just such a way an English gentleman might converse with a satisfactory tenant to whom he had let his country house for the hunting season. Donovan repeated the invitation which Gorman had given in his name, and pressed the King to treat the palace as his own during his stay in Salissa. The King accepted the invitation with profuse thanks. Donovan rang a bell which lay on the table beside him.
”I'll tell Smith,” he said, ”to get your luggage ash.o.r.e right now and fix up a room for you.”
I have always admired Smith. He is not only competent in practical affairs. He has nerve and coolness of a very high order. He found himself in a difficult position when Donovan's bell sounded. He knew that the King had landed, knew that he was with Donovan and Gorman on the balcony. In Smith's position I think I should have sent some one else to take Donovan's orders, one of the island girls, or one of the boys who were by that time presentable footmen. I should, I feel sure, have concealed myself, feigned sickness, made any excuse, rather than face the King in the presence of Donovan and Gorman. But Smith is greatly my superior. He appeared at once in answer to the summons of the bell. He stood half-way between Donovan's chair and the door which opened on the balcony. He did not even glance at the King. But the King recognized him at once.
”Ah,” he said. ”It is, yes. h.e.l.l's delight! It is the excellent Fritz.
It is so long since I have seen you, Fritz, I began to think you were dead.”