CHAPTER XX

King Konrad Karl took Gorman’s hand and wrung it heartily.

“My friend Gorman,” he said. “How are you? But I need not ask. I see. You are top-tipping.”

“Thanks,” said Gorman. “Salissa agrees with me. And Paris does not seem to have done you any harm.”

“Paris! Ah, in Paris one lives, and I am in the pink. But, alas and damn, I leave Paris. I take trains. I travel fast. I embark.” He waved his hand towards the steamer. “Finally, I arrive.”

“How did you come to embark in that curious-looking ship? I never saw a steamer like her before.”

“That,” said the King, “is the navy of Megalia. I come as a King, in a state.”

“I rather wonder that you trusted yourself to that navy,” said Gorman. “After what you told me about the fate of the late king. It was that same steamer, I suppose, which brought the Prime Minister and the rest of them out here to cut your predecessor’s throat.”

“Otto? Yes. It was the navy. You are right. They killed poor Otto. No doubt they would jump up to the chance to kill me too. But just nowthey cannot, and I am safe as a bank in England. The Emperor——”

“Ah,” said Gorman, “I thought we’d get to the Emperor soon.”

“The Emperor said, ‘Carry the King to Salissa in the navy of Megalia.’ That is all, but that is enough. No, my friend, they will not kill me now. Afterwards perhaps. But afterwards I shall not be here. I shall return to Paris.”

“I wonder you ever left Paris,” said Gorman, “but I suppose that was the Emperor too.”

“You are right. You hit it the first time you shoot. The Emperor sends to me Steinwitz—a cursed pig—a cur dog with mange on him—an outsider from the ranks, that is, I think you say a rank outsider—a bounder, my friend Gorman—a sweeper of chimneys—a swine——”

“I’m sure he’s all that. I don’t care for the man myself, but tell me what he said to you.”

“Steinwitz came into my hotel. He said, ‘The American will not sell Salissa. It is necessary that you marry the girl.’ I said ‘Good. Where is she? To-morrow I will do it.’ But he said, ‘The girl is not here. It is for you to go to Salissa at once. She is there.’ Conceive it, my friend. I did not want to leave Paris. We were happy there, Corinne and I. But at once, in a jiffy, I am off to this place and without Corinne. It is a hard line, for me the hardest line.”

“But why the deuce did you do it? Oh, I needn’t ask that. The Emperor, of course. Well, I don’tknow whether you’ll be pleased to hear it or not, but you can’t marry the girl.”

“But—you do not quite understand. For me there is no choice. It is: Damn it, I must. The Emperor——”

“Even the Emperor can’t make the same girl marry two men. I happen to know that Miss Donovan is engaged to a young fellow called Phillips, and fifty Emperors yelling at her at once wouldn’t make her give him up.”

The King seized Gorman’s hand and shook it heartily. His face expressed great delight.

“Where,” he said, “is the young fellow called Phillips? I wish to see him at once, to embrace him. I shall bestow on him the Order of the Pink Vulture of Megalia, First Class. I shall make him a Count. Do you think, my friend, that he would wish to be a Count? His action is most noble. He is a good sporter. I will now go back to Paris. The Emperor can say no more to me. The young fellow Phillips has married the girl.”

“Not quite married her,” said Gorman, “but it’s nearly the same thing.”

The King waved his hand airily.

“It is quite the same thing. No man of honour—the young fellow Phillips is above all a man of honour—would go backwards from his word. Besides there is your English court of broken promises of marriage. He would not face that. I write at once to the Emperor. I tell him that I regret, that I am desolate, but I can do no more. Theyoung fellow Phillips has cut me up—no, has cut out—that is, he has cut me in. Then I return to Paris. To-day I shall start. The navy of Megalia will get up steam and——”

The King stopped abruptly. The smile died on his face. He had all the appearance of extreme dejection.

“My friend,” he said, “it will not work. I forgot one thing. I am up in a tree. What am I to do?”

“What’s the matter?” said Gorman. “You were just saying you’d go back to Paris. That strikes me as an excellent plan. What’s the matter with it?”

“I had forgotten one thing,” said the King. “If I cannot marry the girl, I am no longer any use. The Emperor will not care a damn what happens to me. The Admiral of Megalia is there, Gorman, on the navy. The Emperor’s command no longer protects. The admiral will say, ‘Hell and Hurrah! Now is my chance.’”

“Do you mean to say you think the admiral will assassinate 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 damn!” 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 ship 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-mindedman; 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 willtalk 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 dicky, 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 shillings 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 ashore 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 ina 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. Hell’s delight! It is the excellent Fritz. It is so long since I have seen you, Fritz, I began to think you were dead.”

“No, your Majesty, not yet,” said Smith. “I hope your Majesty is quite well, and Mr. Steinwitz, if you’ll excuse my asking. I hope Mr. Steinwitz is quite well.”

“That swine,” said the King, “is, as always, swallowing in the mire.”

“You’ll excuse my asking, your Majesty,” said Smith, “but I like to hear about Mr. Steinwitz. It was Mr. Steinwitz who got me my present situation—a very good situation, your Majesty.”

“Smith,” said Donovan, “get the King’s luggage ashore. He’s going to stay here for a bit. You must make him as comfortable as you can.”

“Yes, sir,” said Smith. “I’ll see to that, sir, at once. Anything else, sir?”

“Not now,” said Donovan.

“Thank you, sir,” said Smith.

Then he left the balcony. Many men, perhaps most men, would not have gone far away, would have lingered near one of the open windows which gave on the balcony, nervously anxious to hear what was said about them. Smith was not in the least nervous. He went straight to the landing steps and was to be seen a few moments later rowing out to the steamer. He probably guessed pretty accurately what questions Donovan and Gorman would ask. He must have known what King Konrad Karl would tell them. He would discover in due time what they decided to do. There was no real need for eavesdropping. Yet I think most men would have tried to listen.

“Seems to me,” said Donovan to the King, “that you’re acquainted with Smith. I’m not asking questions. It’s no affair of mine, anyway. Don’t say a word unless you like. I’m not curious.”

“I am,” said Gorman, “infernally curious. Who is Smith?”

“For five years,” said the King, “perhaps for more—who knows—he has walked on my shadow. He has been a beagle hound, nose down, on my smell, pursuing it. Never until last April has he run off the tracks.”

“Blackmail?” said Donovan.

The King looked puzzled, though “blackmail” isa word he might have been expected to know. Gorman explained.

“Getting money out of you,” he said, “for hushing up any inconvenient little episodes, undertaking not to tell stories he happened to have heard. You know the sort of thing I mean.”

“No man,” said the King sadly, “can get money out of me. It is like—how do you say?—the riding breeches of the Scottish soldiers, not there. Nor do I say hush about my little episodes. Pooh! my friend Gorman. These episodes, what are they? The English middling classes like to pretend that there are no episodes. But there are, always, and we others—we do not say hush.”

“If it wasn’t blackmail,” said Donovan, “what kept him tracking you?”

“Ask my friend Gorman,” said the King. “He knows.”

“I do not,” said Gorman, “unless——”

King Konrad Karl smiled pleasantly.

“Unless——” said Gorman. “Oh, damn it all. I suppose it was the Emperor.”

“You have it,” said the King. “He is of the Emperor’s secret service. He and Steinwitz. Steinwitz I do not like. He is an arrogant. He assumes always the attitude of the dog on top. But of Fritz I make no complaint. He is always civilian.”

“I’d gather that,” said Gorman, “from the little I’ve seen of him. If we must have a spy here—and of course there’s no help for that since the Emperor says so—it’s better to have an agreeableone. His job at present, I suppose, is to keep an eye on Donovan and the island generally.”

“That Emperor,” said Donovan, “seems to me to butt in unnecessarily. But I’m obliged to him. Smith is the best servant I’ve struck since I first took to employing a hired help.”

“It will be sad,” said the King, “when you kill him. A great loss.”

“I don’t know,” said Donovan, “that I mean to kill him. He’s a valuable man.”

“The proper thing to do,” said Gorman, “is to put him on board the Megalian navy and leave him to the admiral.”

“Seems a pity,” said Donovan. “I don’t see how I could make my way along the rugged path of life without Smith. He hasn’t done me any kind of harm so far. I think I’ll wait a bit. It would worry me to have to step down and take hold now. My heart——”

“What I can’t get at even yet,” said Gorman, “is the idea in the Emperor’s mind. He piles up scrap iron and ridiculous-looking cisterns in a cave. He deluges the place with petrol. He sets a spy on Donovan. Now what the devil does he do it for?”

The King shrugged his shoulders.

“Real Politik, perhaps,” he said. “But how do I know? I am a king, certainly. But I am not a whale on the sea ofReal Politik. Your whale is a fish that bores, always. Perhaps if you ask Fritz he will know.”

“By the way,” said Donovan, “what’s the man’s real name?”

“Once,” said the King, “he was Calmet, M. de Calmet. At that time he was French. Later he was Heyduk, a Captain in the army of Megalia. Also he was Freidwig, and he came from Stockholm. He was for some time the Count Pozzaro. I have also heard——”

“That’s enough for me,” said Donovan. “I’ll stick to Smith as long as he’ll answer to it. Seems simpler.”

Gorman rose from his chair and crossed the balcony. He stood for a minute or two looking out at the bay. Smith’s boat, rowed steadily, reached the side of the steamer. Smith climbed on board.

“I shouldn’t wonder,” said Gorman, “if we’ve seen the last of our friend Smith.”

“I hope not,” said Donovan. “Why do you think so?”

“Well,” said Gorman, “if I were in his shoes I think I should stay in the Megalian navy. It’ll be rather awkward for him now we’ve found him out.”

“He will return,” said the King.

“I shouldn’t,” said Gorman. “Of course that admiral, being the kind of man he is, it’s risky to stay with him; but then Smith has got to take risks whatever he does. And he may have some sort of safe conduct from the Emperor which will make the admiral nervous about cutting his throat.”

“He will return,” said the King. “It is plain thatthe Emperor has said to him: ‘Follow the smell of the American.’ He will not leave it.”

“Oh, of course,” said Gorman. “I’m always forgetting the Emperor. If he has given definite orders of that kind they’ll be obeyed. I daresay Smith is telegraphing for definite instructions at this moment. They have a wireless installation, so I suppose he can.”

“Behold,” said the King. “My luggage descends to the boat. Smith will follow. Did I not tell you?”

Two sailors were lowering various suit-cases and bags into the boat. A few minutes later Smith dropped from the steamer’s side and took the oars.

“Donovan,” said Gorman, “the Emperor is evidently really anxious about your smell.”

Ido not think that the Emperor’s plan for restoring Salissa to the Crown of Megalia by means of a marriage would have worked, even if there had been no such person as Maurice Phillips. The Queen did not like Konrad Karl. She was not, of course, openly disagreeable or uncivil to him. She was too sweet-tempered and good-hearted to be disagreeable to any one, and she had a strong sense of what was due to a guest in her house. But it was plain enough not only to Gorman, but to the King himself, that she did not like him. This does not appear to have been the King’s fault. Konrad Karl had many of the instincts of a gentleman. It is an odd fact, but I think undeniable, that a man may be a blackguard and remain a gentleman. There was, for instance, no fault to be found with Konrad Karl’s behaviour towards the Queen, though he had come to the island intending to insult her by marrying her. He did his best to talk pleasantly to her, and he could be very pleasant when he chose. He never attempted to flirt with her. His manner was always respectful and he tried to help her in various ways, even going to her school in the mornings and giving the children drawing lessons. She could notherself have told why she disliked him. She certainly had no idea that there was any question of his marrying her. But she slipped into the habit of spending most of her time in the boat with Kalliope. Konrad Karl used to go down to the palace steps and see her off. He never ventured into a boat himself. He had an uneasy feeling that the Megalian admiral was watching him and would kidnap him at once if he left the security of the land.

The Queen’s unfriendliness did not trouble him much.

“The American girl,” he said to Gorman, “would not have done for me, or do I say she would have done for me? Which is it?”

“Well,” said Gorman, “either expresses your meaning and I quite agree with you. She would not have done for you, and in the long run if you didn’t do for her she would certainly have done for you.”

“The English language is wonderful,” said the King. “She would not, and she would. It is the same in English. But my meaning is true. It is well I did not marry her. I must give many thanks to Phillips. If Phillips had not done for her I should have been done for.”

“As it is,” said Gorman, “it’s the Emperor who’s done.”

“Ah,” said the King. “I give in. I give up. I give out. That word ‘done’—it is too much for me.”

It was not like the King to give in to an English idiom. As a rule he rushed at one the minute he heard it with reckless confidence. But he was depressed and lonely on Salissa. He chatted cheerily enough to Donovan. He was always bright and talkative at meals. But he confessed to Gorman several times that he missed Madame Ypsilante very much.

It was Gorman’s curious fortune at this time to receive the love confidences of three different people. Phillips had poured raptures into his ear during the voyage to the island. The Queen, having no one else to treat as a confidant, often talked to him about Phillips. The King was expansive about Madame Ypsilante. One evening he became very sentimental, almost lachrymose. He and Gorman were sitting together near the flagstaff, smoking and looking out towards the harbour where the Megalian navy still lay at anchor.

“Ah,” said the King, “my poor Corinne! She will languish. I think of Corinne and I see that her eyes are full of mourning, like the eyes of a wood dove. Gorman, I cannot bear the weight. It will be better that I take the risk, that I go on the navy. The admiral will make me walk a plank. That is certain. But it might be that I should survive. And then I should rejoin Corinne, poor Corinne who mourns.”

“I don’t expect she’s mourning as much as all that,” said Gorman. “She’s got those pearls, you know.”

“I,” said the King, “I alone am her pearl. But, alas, I cannot even write to her. She will think that I am dead and her heart will fall to pieces.”

“She’s much more likely to think that you’ve married Miss Donovan,” said Gorman.

“Of course she will think that. It was what I came to do. That she will not mind. But if she thinks that I am dead, that the admiral has cooked a goose for me; then she will indeed be sad. Gorman, my friend, what shall I do to reassure her?”

“I can’t possibly advise you,” said Gorman. “I don’t understand women. I should have thought she’d much rather you were dead than married to Miss Donovan.”

“Ah no,” said the King. “Believe me, my friend, you know much; but you do not know the heart of Corinne.”

The King’s faith was very touching. But Gorman still maintains that he was not far wrong about Madame Ypsilante’s feelings. She might not actually have preferred the King’s death; but she certainly did not want to see him married to Miss Donovan.

The King drew a last mouthful of smoke from his cigar and then flung the end of it into the sea.

“Gorman,” he said, “what is it that your great English poet had so beautifully said? ‘If you were the only girl in the world and I were the only boy.’ That is Corinne and me. ‘A garden of Eden just made for two.’ That is Paris. I have always admiredthe English poets. It is so true, what they say.”

He gazed out across the bay as he spoke. The sun was setting. The water was exquisitely calm. It was a moment for the most luscious sentiment. Even Gorman, to whom sentiment is an abhorrent kind of indecency, felt uncomfortable.

A small boat slipped round the southern headland of the bay. She was rowing fast. The King jumped to his feet suddenly. He pointed to the boat. He waved his arms wildly.

“Buck up,” he shouted, “it is—I will eat my hat—it is Corinne! She comes to me!”

“Nonsense,” said Gorman. “That’s Miss Donovan’s boat. She’s coming home for dinner. Sit down and don’t get excited.”

“I am sorry,” said the King, “but I cannot. It is impossible for me to keep on my hair when Corinne is coming.”

“Corinne isn’t coming,” said Gorman. “How could she?”

“I see her. I see her. The dickens, and Great Jupiter, my eyes see her.”

“You can’t tell one woman from another at that distance. What you see is either Miss Donovan or Kalliope.”

The boat drew rapidly nearer. Gorman stared at her.

“Therearethree women,” he said. “I wonder who the other is.”

“Corinne. Corinne,” said the King.

To Gorman’s amazement the King was right. The boat reached the landing steps. In her were the Queen, Kalliope and a very dishevelled Madame Ypsilante. That lady was never, at any time of her life, an outdoor woman. When she travelled it was in the wagons-lits of trains-de-luxes, and in specially reserved cabins of steamers. Her journey to Salissa had been performed in far less luxurious ways and her appearance had suffered. Her complexion was streaky. Her hair straggled about a good deal, and several damp-looking locks hung like thick bootlaces around her face. Her dress was crumpled and had two large patches of dirt on it. But all this made no difference to the King. He folded her in his arms and kissed her directly she got out of the boat.

“Corinne,” he said, “now I shall be no longer sad.”

Madame returned his kisses with vigour.

“My Konrad,” she said, “and you are not married after all.”

It was that remark, her greeting to the King, which made Gorman feel sure that he had been right about her feeling, that she really did not like the idea of the marriage.

Konrad Karl took her by the hand and led her into the palace.

The Queen was still sitting in the stern of the boat. Since Madame Ypsilante fell into Konrad Karl’s arms the Queen had turned her back on the landing slip and gazed steadily out to sea. Onlywhen the sound of their footsteps made her sure that her guests were going into the palace did she venture to look round cautiously.

“It’s all right,” said Gorman. “You can come on shore.”

He held out his hand to her.

“And do tell me,” he said, “where you found her. She looked to me rather as if she had been washed up some time yesterday and had spent last night in a cave.”

“Who is she?” said the Queen.

“Her name,” said Gorman, “is Ypsilante, Madame Corinne Ypsilante.”

“She told me that much. But I want to know what is she?”

The question was an awkward one to answer. Gorman did the best he could.

“A friend of the King’s,” he said.

“Well,” said the Queen. “He’ll be able to marry her now. The poor thing was in dreadful distress. She thought he was going to marry me. And she’s engaged to him. She told me so herself.”

I am sure that Gorman did not smile; but there must have been a twinkle in his eyes which betrayed him. The Queen is extremely quick at reading such signs. She turned on him sharply.

“Aren’t they engaged to be married?” she asked.

“Kings,” said Gorman, “are in a peculiar position with regard to these matters. Their matrimonial arrangements are not made in what we regard asthe normal way. To speak of a king as being ‘engaged’ is——”

“I’m a queen.”

“Of course. Of course.”

“And I’m engaged to be married; so why can’t he be? Anyhow he is, for she told me so. I asked her and she said yes!”

Gorman did not feel equal to arguing about the precise nature of Madame Ypsilante’s claims on the King.

“You haven’t told me yet where you found her,” he said.

“Kalliope and I,” said the Queen, “were picnicking in a little bay a long way from this, quite the other side of the island. There was a fishing boat standing in towards the shore. It came to our beach and she got out. That’s all.”

“Quite simple after all,” said Gorman. “I suppose you were scarcely even surprised.”

“Well, I was rather,” said the Queen, “just at first until she told me.”

“Told you what?” said Gorman. “You’re skipping all the interesting part.”

“Don’t be stupid,” said the Queen. “She told me about being engaged to the King and thinking that he was going to marry me. Of course, when she thought that she came here as quick as ever she could to see him. Any one would. Not that I’d ever think such a thing about Maurice. But then he wouldn’t. Still, I quite understand her coming here in a boat. But I do wonder what made herthink he was going to marry me. He never even tried. Who could have told her such a thing?”

“Probably the Emperor,” said Gorman.

The Queen burst out laughing.

“I believe,” she said, “that if the house fell down and Kalliope eloped with Smith and father took to rowing races with old Stephanos you’d put it all down to the Emperor.”

“I would,” said Gorman.

“Anyhow, I’m going to dress now. Come along, Kalliope.”

Madame Ypsilante, very much to Gorman’s relief, did not appear at dinner. She went straight to bed, intending, so the King said, to stay there for twenty-four hours at least.

Later in the evening, after the Queen had left them, Konrad Karl, Donovan and Gorman sat together smoking. For a while no one spoke. At last Konrad Karl, who had no gift of silence, began:

“My poor Corinne! She was desolate. I told you, Gorman, that she would be desolate, but you would not believe. Yet it was so. Steinwitz said, ‘No. You cannot go with the King.’ But she was more than too much, she was the equal of Steinwitz. She told him all she thought of him. It was much.”

“I don’t like Steinwitz,” said Gorman, “but what I know of Madame’s conduct in moments of strong emotion I’m inclined to pity the man.”

“Then,” said the King, “she was like a bee, making lines for Salissa.”

“She did pretty well,” said Gorman, “considering that she could only get a fishing boat for the last part of the journey. I wonder she got here so soon. But look here, you know—it seems a beastly thing to say, but——”

Here Donovan roused himself.

“I’m not a narrow-minded man,” he said, “and I hope I’m not the victim of prejudice; but I’m afraid——”

King Konrad Karl waved his hand. Then he stood up, swallowed half a glass of brandy and laid down his cigar.

“I am Konrad Karl of Megalia,” he said. “I am a black sheep, very black. I am a blackguard. You say it, Donovan. You say it, Gorman, my friend.”

“I didn’t,” said Gorman.

“Cut that part,” said Donovan. “Nobody wants to start in abusing you.”

“I am,” said the King with an air of simple pride, “I am a blackguard, the blackest guard of all. Good. But I am a King and I am a gentleman. Good. I know that poor Corinne must go. She cannot stay here. That is what you would say, and you are right. I know it. There areles convenances. There is the charming Miss Donovan.”

“That’s it,” said Donovan. “If it were simply a matter of Gorman and me——I don’t like saying these things—but——”

“But you are right,” said the King. “Right as nails. Corinne must go. But I go with her. To-morrow we depart, she and I. We take a boat. Irow with oars. We fly. The navy of Megalia pursues. It overtakes. Good. We die. Perhaps the navy mistakes. It pursues by another route, a way we have not gone. Good. We live. Either way you shut us. No. We shut you. No. I have it. We are shut of us.”

“That’s rather a hopeless programme,” said Gorman. “I don’t suppose you can row much.”

“I cannot row at all,” said the King.

“The navy is a pretty rotten-looking tub,” said Gorman. “But it can hardly help catching you. You won’t even be out of sight before it has steam up.”

The King sat down, looking very miserable. He made no pretence of liking the prospect before him.

“And Corinne,” he murmured, “will be sick, as a dog is sick. She is sick always at sea.”

Gorman and Donovan felt sorry for him. Donovan was particularly irritated at the situation in which he found himself.

“If it wasn’t for my daughter——” he said. “But, damn it all, what can I do?”

“I wonder,” said Gorman, “if it would be possible to—well, shall we say regularize the situation?”

He looked inquiringly at Donovan and then at the King. Donovan grasped the idea first.

“That’s it,” he said. “Look here,” he turned to the King. “Why the hell don’t you marry her at once? Then everything would be all right.”

“Marry her!” said the King. “But that——Oh,damn! Oh Great Scott! That is impossible. You do not understand.”

“It’s the right thing to do,” said Donovan, “besides being the only possible way out of the hole we are in. And I don’t see the impossibility. If you’re holding back on account of any mediæval European notions about monarchs being a different kind of flesh and blood from other people——”

“It is not that,” said the King.

“If it is,” said Donovan, “you may just go off in a boat and be drowned. I shan’t pity you.”

“But it is not that.” The King jumped about with excitement. “I am a king, it is true. But I am a man of liberated soul. I say ‘Kings, what are kings?’ Democracy is the card to play, the trump. I play it now and always. I have no prejudices. But when you say to me: ‘There is no impossibility, marry Corinne,’ I reply: ‘You do not understand. There is one thing more to reckon with.’ Donovan, you have forgotten——”

“I haven’t forgotten,” said Gorman. “I never get a chance of forgetting. It’s the Emperor, as usual.”

“You have shot the bull in his eye,” said the King. “Donovan, it is that. Gorman knows. There is the Emperor. Therefore I cannot marry Corinne.”

“I’d see that Emperor a long way,” said Donovan, “before I’d allow him to dictate to me.”

“Ah,” said the King, “but you do not understand the Emperor.”

“I don’t believe any one does,” said Gorman.

“Well,” said Donovan, “I donotunderstand your Emperor. I own up to that. But you think over my suggestion, and you’ll find, Emperor or no Emperor, there isn’t any genuine obstacle.”

King Konrad Karl slept badly that night. Donovan’s plan seemed to him quite hopeless. He went to bed fully persuaded that he and his beloved Corinne would have to embark next day and make a considerable voyage in an open boat. I do not blame him for being disturbed at the prospect. I am fond of boats myself and can enjoy a ten-tonner very well; but nothing would induce me to go to sea with Madame Ypsilante in anything less comfortable than a well-equipped steam yacht of 1,000 tons. Besides there was the pursuit of the Megalian navy to be considered.

The King was not the only person who missed his proper sleep. Gorman lay awake for two hours. He was tormented by the feeling that it was barbarous to turn Konrad Karl and Madame Ypsilante adrift in a boat. Donovan was more fortunate. He slept untroubled by any worry about his guests. It seemed to him the simplest thing in the world that the King should marry Madame next day. Stephanos should perform the ceremony. Stephanos officiated at all the islanders’ marriages.

There was, as it turned out, neither a flight nor a wedding next day. Madame Ypsilante developeda feverish chill. She was plainly quite unfit for a boat voyage and in no condition to be married. The Queen and Kalliope took up the work of nursing her with enthusiasm. The Queen would not listen to a word Gorman said to her. Her view was that Madame Ypsilante was the heroine of a splendid romance, that she had fled to her fiancé across land and sea, braving awful dangers, enduring incredible hardships for dear love’s sake. She felt that she would have done the same thing herself if Phillips, by any trick of fate, had been marooned on a South Pacific island. There was plainly no use trying to hint at delicate proprieties to a girl in such a mood. Gorman, after one or two attempts, gave it up.

He had, indeed, quite early in the day, other things to attend to. At about ten o’clock there were signs of great activity on board the Megalian navy. The crew—there appeared to be about fifteen men altogether—was paraded on deck and addressed from the bridge by the admiral. The speech must have been an exciting and important one, for the admiral gesticulated violently. When he stopped, the crew cheered. Gorman watched the proceedings. He was interested—as an expert—in the effects of oratory.

When the cheering was over, the admiral gave two or three orders. The crew immediately began to run about the deck in a confused and tumultuous manner. After a while they settled down to the work of getting the covers off the steamer’s twoguns. Some shells—Gorman supposed they must be shells—were carried on deck. The guns were swung round and pointed at the palace. Then they were loaded. A solemn business, very carefully carried out under the immediate eye of the admiral.

King Konrad Karl came running to Gorman. He was in a state of considerable excitement.

“That admiral,” he said, “has it in mind to stone the palace. He has stones for those guns. I know it.”

“If it was a matter of stones,” said Gorman, “but they look to me more like shells.”

“Shells, stones, it is the same. He will batter, destroy, slay. Gorman, my friend, it must not be.”

“Why the devil does he want to do it?” said Gorman. “Now don’t sayReal Politikor the Emperor. I simply can’t believe that either one or the other would set that pirate shooting at us.”

“It isReal Politik, without doubt,” said the King. “And it is the Emperor. But it is also me, me, Konrad Karl of Megalia. I am—what is it you say in English?—I am wanted. And I go. I offer myself. I become a ewe lamb of sacrifice. I say good-bye. I leave Corinne. I go. Then the admiral will not stone the palace.”

“Don’t start for a minute or two yet,” said Gorman. “The pirate is sending a boat ashore. We may as well hear what he has to say.”

It was the admiral himself who landed. He was in full dress. His uniform was almost entirely covered with gold braid. Gold cords with tassels attheir ends hung in festoons across his chest and down his back. He carried a large sword in a highly gilt sheath. On his head was a cocked hat with a tall pink feather in it, perhaps a plume from the tail of the Megalian vulture.

Gorman received him with great respect and led him up to Donovan’s room.

The admiral saluted Donovan gravely, and held out a large paper carefully folded and sealed. Donovan offered him a cigar and a drink, in a perfectly friendly way. The admiral replied by pushing his paper forward towards Donovan. He knew no English. That was the only possible way of explaining the fact that he ignored the offer of a drink. Donovan nodded towards Gorman, who took the document from the admiral and opened it.

“Seems to me to be a kind of state paper,” he said. “Rather like an Act of Parliament to look at; but it’s written in a language I don’t know. Suppose we send for the King and get him to translate.”

“If it’s an Act of Parliament,” said Donovan, “we’d better have Daisy up too. She’s responsible for the government of this island.”

The admiral guessed that his document was under discussion. He did not know English, but he knew one word which was, at that time, common in all languages.

“Ultimatum,” he said solemnly.

“That so?” said Donovan. “Then we must have Daisy.”

I am inclined to think that Miss Donovan will never be a first-rate queen. She is constitutionally incapable of that particular kind of stupidity which is called dignity. In that hour of her country’s destiny, her chief feeling was amusement at the appearance of the admiral. She did not know, perhaps, that the guns of the Megalian navy were trained on her palace. But she ought to have understood that dignified conduct is desirable in dealing with admirals. She sat on the corner of the table beside her father’s chair and swung her legs. She smiled at the admiral. Now and then she choked down little fits of laughter.

King Konrad Karl took the matter much more seriously.

He unfolded the paper which Gorman handed to him. He frowned fiercely and then became suddenly explosive.

“Deuce and Jove and damn!” he said. “This is the limitation of all. Listen, my friends, to the cursed jaw—no, the infernal cheek, of this: ‘The Megalian Government requires——’”

He stopped, gasped, struck at the paper with his hand.

“Go on,” said Gorman. “There’s nothing very bad so far. There is a Megalian Government, I suppose?”

“But I—I am the Megalian Government,” said the King.

“It will be time enough to take up those pointsof constitutional law afterwards. Let’s hear what’s in the paper first.”

The King read on. His anger gave way by degrees to anxiety and perplexity.

“I cannot translate,” he said. “The English language does not contain words in which to express the damned cheek of these flounders. They say that you,” he pointed to the Queen, “and you, Donovan, and you, my friend Gorman, must go at once on the Megalian navy. It will carry you to Sicily. It will put you there in a dump, and you must embark before noon. Great Scott!”

“Oh, but that’s just silly,” said the Queen. “We shan’t take any notice of it.”

“In that case the admiral shoots,” said the King. “At noon, sharp up to time, precise.”

“Well,” said Donovan, “I guess I don’t mean to move.”

“But,” said the King, “he can shoot. The navy of Megalia has shells for its guns. It has six. I know it, for I bought them myself when I sat on that cursed throne. Six, my friends.”

“That’s a comfort, anyway,” said Donovan. “According to my notion of the efficiency of that navy it will miss the island altogether with the first five and be darned lucky if it knocks a chip off a cliff with the sixth.”

The Queen stopped swinging her feet and laughing at the admiral. She was much more serious now. There was a gleam in her eyes which caught Gorman’s attention.

“Father,” she said, “I’m going to hoist the American flag. I have one in my room.”

“Seems a pity,” said Donovan. “Your blue banner is nice enough.”

“No one,” said the Queen, “would dare to fire on the Stars and Stripes.”

Miss Donovan, though an independent queen, was a patriotic American citizen. In those days there were a good many patriotic American citizens who believed that no one would dare to fire on the Stars and Stripes. King Konrad Karl knew better.

“Alas,” he said, “your Stars! your Stripes! if it were the Megalian Government it would not dare. But this is not the ultimatum outrage of the Megalian Government. Behind it, in the rear of its elbow, stands——”

“Of course he does,” said Gorman.

“That darned Emperor?” said Donovan.

Gorman nodded.

“Daisy,” said Donovan, “I just hate to shatter your ideals, but I reckon that Emperor would as soon fire on one flag as another; and what’s more, I’m not inclined to think that Old Glory is liable to do much in the way of putting up a battle afterwards. It’s painful to you, Daisy, as a patriotic citizen; but what I say is the fact. In the Middle West where I was raised we don’t think guns and shooting constitute the proper way of settling international differences. We’ve advanced some from those ideas. We’re a civilized people, specially in the dry States where university education is rifeand the influence of women permeates elections. We’ve attained a nobler outlook upon life.”

The Queen was on her feet. Her eyes were flashing. Her lips trembled with indignation.

“Father,” she said, “are you going to let yourself be bullied by—by that thing?” She pointed to the admiral with a gesture of contempt. “Are you going to sneak on to his ship? Oh, if I were a man I’d hoist the Stars and Stripes and fight. If they killed us America would avenge us.”

“You take me up wrong, Daisy,” said Donovan. “I don’t say I wouldn’t fight if I had a gun. I might, and that’s a fact. But the way I’m fixed at present, not having a gun, I intend to experiment with the methods of peaceful settlement. I’m not above admitting that I share the lofty notions of the cultivated disciples of peace. I’m a humanitarian, and opposed on principle to the sacrifice of human life. I just hate butting in and taking hold. The disordered nature of my heart makes it dangerous for me to exert myself. But it seems to me that this is a case in which I just have to. But if I do, I want to handle things my own way. So you run away now, Daisy. Get that blue banner of yours fluttering in the breeze, defying death and destiny.” He turned to Konrad Karl. “I’d be obliged to you,” he said, “if you’d tell that highly coloured ocean warrior that I count on him not to start shooting till the time mentioned in his ultimatum. That leaves me an hour and a quarter to work with the nobler weapons of civilized pacifist conviction.Tell him to go back to his ship and see that his men don’t get monkeying with those six shells. Gorman,” he went on, “you get hold of Smith and send him up here to me.”

I think it was then that Gorman first realized the strength of Donovan’s personality. The Queen, though she was in a high passion of patriotism and defiance, left the room without a word. Konrad Karl spluttered a little, uttering a series of ill-assorted oaths, but he walked off the Megalian admiral and put him into a boat. Gorman himself did what he was told without asking for a word of explanation.

Gorman led Smith to Donovan’s room. The man must have known all about the Megalian admiral’s threat. He probably understood, better than any one else on the island, the meaning and purpose of the ultimatum presented to Donovan. But he showed no signs of embarrassment or excitement. When Gorman summoned him—he was brushing a pair of Konrad Karl’s trousers at the moment—he apologized for having put Gorman to the trouble of looking for him. When he entered the room where Donovan waited he stood quietly near the door in his usual attitude of respectful attention.

Donovan greeted him as if he had been a friend and not a servant.

“Take a chair, Smith, and sit down. I want to talk to you.”

Smith refused to accept this new position.

“Beg pardon, sir,” he said, “but if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather stand. Seems more natural, sir.”

Gorman, who had followed Smith into the room, hovered uncertainly near the door. He very much wanted to hear what Donovan had to say; but hewas not quite sure whether he was meant to be present.

“Any objection to my staying?” he asked. “I’m interested in international peace movements and Hague Conferences. I’d like to hear how you mean to work this affair.”

“Sit down,” said Donovan, “but don’t get interrupting. Now that I’ve taken hold I mean to handle this damned business my own way.”

Gorman sat down and lit his pipe. Donovan turned to Smith.

“You’re a valuable man, Smith,” he said, “and I’d like to retain your services.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Smith. “I’ve done my best to give satisfaction.”

“But if you’re to stay on with me,” said Donovan, “we’ve got to have some straight talk. I’d like it to be clearly understood that your engagement with me is to be a whole-time job for the future.”

“More satisfactory, sir, certainly.”

“At present,” said Donovan, “you’re also engaged by Mr. Steinwitz.”

“Not by Mr. Steinwitz, sir, if you’ll excuse my correcting you. By the Emperor.”

Gorman groaned deeply. Smith turned to him, solicitous, anxious to be of use.

“Beg pardon, sir, can I do anything for you, sir? Anything wrong, sir?”

“No,” said Gorman, “no. The mention of the Emperor upsets me a little. That’s all. Don’t doit again, if you can help it, Smith. I’m sorry, Donovan. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Smith turned to Donovan again.

“Perhaps I should say, sir, the Imperial Secret Service.”

“Salary?” said Donovan.

He showed no surprise, anger or disgust. Smith was equally cool. He answered the question snapped at him as if it had been the most natural in the world.

“Well, sir, that depends. The salary varies according to circumstances. And there are allowances, travelling, sir, and subsistence, sometimes.”

“Average?” said Donovan, “average net profit?”

Smith thought for a minute before answering. He was apparently anxious to be accurate and honest.

“I think, sir, I may say £200 a year, taking one thing with another.”

“Well,” said Donovan, “I’ll double that, in addition to what I’m paying you at present; on condition that you’re in my service only. As I said before, Smith, you’re a valuable man.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Smith. “Very generous of you. I appreciate the offer, but——”

He paused. He had some objection to make, but he hesitated to put it into words.

“I treble the Emperor’s two hundred pounds,” said Donovan.

“I beg pardon, sir. I wasn’t meaning to standout for a larger salary. That’s not my point, sir. What I was going to say, sir, was——”

Again he hesitated.

“Patriotic scruples?” said Donovan. “Loyal to the Emperor? Feel kind of mean deserting the service of your country?”

“Oh no, sir, not at all. Scruples aren’t in my line, sir, and I am Swiss by birth. No particular feeling of loyalty to anybody. The fact is, sir, a man must keep his self-respect. I daresay you’ll understand. I had no objection to taking on a valet’s job, sir, in the way of business, as an agent of the Intelligence Department. But it’s rather a different thing, sir—if you catch my point—to enter domestic service as a profession. A man doesn’t like to lose caste, sir.”

“That’s a real difficulty,” said Donovan. “As an American citizen I understand your feeling and respect it. See any way out?”

“It occurs to me, sir—it’s for you to decide, of course. But it occurs to me that if I might enter the Intelligence Department of Salissa, there’d be no interference with my work in the palace. Anything I could do to make you comfortable. But as agent of the Queen’s Secret Service I should be——I hope you catch my point, sir. You see I held a commission at one time in the Megalian Army.”

“You may consider yourself engaged, Smith,” said Donovan, “or perhaps I ought to say nominated, as head of the Intelligence Department of the Kingdom of Salissa.”

“Thank you, sir. When would you like me to take over my new duties?”

“You can begin right now,” said Donovan.

“Very good, sir. I beg to report that England declared war on Germany this morning. The news came by wireless to the admiral.”

Gorman dropped his pipe and sat upright suddenly.

“Good Lord!” he said. “England. Germany. I say, Donovan, if this is true——”

Donovan motioned him to silence with a wave of his hand.

“Salissa,” he said, “is a neutral State.”

“But,” said Gorman, “if there’s a European war——”

Donovan ignored him.

“Smith,” he said, “that admiral informs me that he has orders to deport us from this island and dump us down somewhere in Sicily. That so?”

“Yes, sir,” said Smith. “Those are the Emperor’s orders. Very urgent orders. In the case of your refusal to obey, the admiral is to fire on the palace.”

“So I understand,” said Donovan. “Now what I want you to do is to go off to the steamer and negotiate with the admiral.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Shall we say £500? or ought I to go higher?”

“I don’t think,” said Smith, “that it will be necessary to give so much. If you will allow me to suggest, I’d say an offer of £10.”

For the first time since the interview began Donovan was startled.

“Ten pounds!” he said. “Do you mean ten?”

“Giving me permission to rise to twenty pounds if necessary,” said Smith.

“But an admiral!” said Donovan. “Remember he’s an admiral.”

“Yes, sir. But admirals aren’t quite the same thing here as in England. Don’t belong to the same class. Don’t draw the same salary.”

“Make it twenty-five pounds,” said Donovan. “I’d be ashamed to offer less to a Tammany boss.”

“Very good, sir, just as you please, sir.”

“Right,” said Donovan. “And now we’ve got that settled, and we’ve three-quarters of an hour to spare, before the bombardment is timed to begin. There are one or two points I’d like to have cleared up. But I wish you’d sit down, Smith, and take a cigar. As head of the Intelligence Department of this kingdom——”

“If you’re quite sure, sir, that there isn’t anything you want me to fetch. A drink, sir?”

“Not for me,” said Donovan. “I want to talk.”

Smith sat down, stretched himself comfortably in a deep chair and lit a cigar.

“What’s the Emperor’s game?” said Donovan. “What’s he after? What the hell does he mean by monkeying round this island ever since I bought it?”

“Well,” said Smith, “I haven’t got what you could call official knowledge of the Emperor’s plans.My orders came to me through Steinwitz, and Steinwitz doesn’t talk unnecessarily.”

The servant manner and the cockney accent disappeared when Smith sat down. He talked to Donovan as one man of the world to another.

“Still,” said Donovan, “you’ve got some sort of idea.”

“Last December,” said Smith, “I was in London keeping an eye on King Konrad Karl. The Emperor liked to know what he was doing. One day I got orders to take delivery of some large cisterns from a firm in Germany, paying for them by cheque drawn on my own account. They were consigned to me as water cisterns. My business was to ship them to Hamburg and hand them over to Captain von Moll. That’s all I was told. But I happened to find out what von Moll’s orders were. He was to land those cisterns in Salissa. I satisfied myself that they were here as soon as I arrived with you on theIda. Von Moll concealed them very well; but he was a bit careless in other ways. He seems to have lived in the palace while he was here and he left some papers lying about, torn up but not burnt. One of them was a letter from Steinwitz. Phillips, the officer of theIda, had his eye on those papers. I swept them up and destroyed them.”

“And the cisterns?” said Donovan. “What are they for?”

“If you consider the geographical position of Salissa, you’ll see in a moment. The island lies a bit off the main steamer route between Marseillesand the Suez Canal; but not too far off. Now I happen to know that the Emperor places great reliance on submarines. In the event of a war with England he depends on submarines to cut the trade routes and sink transports. But submarines operating in the Mediterranean require bases of supply.”

“Petrol?” said Gorman.

“And spare parts,” said Smith. “That was the idea, I think. So long as the island was under the Crown of Megalia there was no difficulty. Megalia wasn’t in a position to interfere with the Emperor’s plans.”

“The Megalian navy certainly isn’t first-rate,” said Donovan.

“But when you purchased the island,” Smith went on, “things were different. You might object to the use the Emperor proposed to make of it. Your Government might have backed you up. How far do you think your Government will back you?”

“Darned little,” said Donovan.

“So Steinwitz seemed to think. But the Emperor wasn’t taking any unnecessary risks. He preferred that the island should return to the Crown of Megalia. I think that’s the whole story so far as I know it. Perhaps now I ought to be getting off to see that admiral.”

“You can make sure of managing him, I suppose,” said Donovan.

“Oh, yes. But it may take a little time. He’ll want to talk and I must consider his self-respect.”

“Quite so,” said Donovan. “We all like to keep our self-respect, even admirals.”

Smith stood up.

“Very well, sir,” he said, “and if there’s nothing you want, sir——”

“Nothing,” said Donovan.

“I shall be back in time to serve luncheon, sir.”

The Smith who left the room was Donovan’s valet, not the head of the Intelligence Department of Salissa.

“Now that,” said Donovan, “is an example of the pacifist method of settling disputes, without appealing to force or sacrificing human life.”

“I admire it,” said Gorman. “I have a higher opinion of pacifism this minute than I ever had before.”

“It’s civilized,” said Donovan, “and it’s cheap. I don’t say it can always be worked as cheap as this; but it’s cheaper than war every time.”

“I wonder,” said Gorman, “if it would work out on a large scale. Take the case of the Emperor now.”

“There are difficulties,” said Donovan. “I don’t deny that there are difficulties. It isn’t always easy to get hold of the right man to pay, and it’s no use paying the wrong one. You must find the real boss, and he has a trick of hiding behind. I remember a case of an elevated street car franchise in a town in the Middle West. We paid three times and didn’t get it in the end owing to not striking the man who mattered. Still, the thing can be done,and according to my notion it’s the best way out, better than fighting. You mentioned this darned Emperor. Well, I don’t know. He’d have to be paid, of course; but the big grafter, the man who’d take the six-figure cheque, is likely not the Emperor. I don’t know. You’d have to find that out. But the principle’s sound. That’s why I call myself a pacifist. There’s tosh talked about pacifism, of course. There always must be tosh talked—and texts. I don’t undervalue texts as a means of influencing public opinion. But the principle is the thing. It’s business. Pay a big price to the man who can deliver the goods. If you pay a big enough price he’ll hand over.”

“That’s all right,” said Gorman, “when you’re dealing with business men. But there are other men, men who aren’t out for money, who want——”

Donovan yawned.

“There are lunatics,” he said, “but lunatics don’t run the world. They get shut up. Most men aren’t lunatics, and you’ll find that the pacifist idea works out. It’s the everlasting principle of all commerce.”

It is impossible to say whether Donovan’s pacifist principles would have been of any use in Europe in 1914. They were not tried, and he admitted that they would not work with lunatics. But the everlasting principle of all commerce proved its value in the case of the Megalian admiral. He did not even bargain at any length. Smith returned in rather less than half an hour, with the news thatthe admiral had accepted £26 10s. He made only one stipulation. It may have been a desire to preserve his self-respect or a determination to observe his orders in the letter which made him insist on firing one shot before he left Salissa.

“He won’t aim at the palace, sir,” said Smith.

“There’d be a better chance of his missing it, if he did,” said Donovan. “It makes me nervous to see men like those sailors playing about with guns.”

“Yes, sir. That’s so, sir. But in this case I don’t think you need have any anxiety. The shot will go right over the palace. I laid the gun myself before I left the ship. I don’t know if I mentioned it to you, sir, but I was in the artillery when I held a commission in the Megalian Army.”

The admiral fired his shot at noon precisely. The shell soared high above the palace, passed over the cliff behind and dropped harmlessly somewhere in the sea.

The Queen and Kalliope stood behind the flagstaff from which the blue banner of Salissa flew. At the sound of the shot, while the shell’s shriek was still in her ears, the Queen gave her order. Kalliope, hauling hand over hand on the halyard, ran up the Stars and Stripes. It flew out on the breeze. The Queen, flushed with pride and patriotism, defied the might of the Megalian navy.

“Fire on that if you dare,” she said.

The admiral weighed his anchor, fussily, with much shouting and swearing, and steamed slowlyout of the harbour. As he went he dipped his ensign, saluting the Queen’s flags.

Konrad Karl, standing at the window of Madame Ypsilante’s room, saved that lady from hysterics by announcing that the bombardment was over.

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