The Island Mystery Part 15

"Konrad, at once tell me all that the Emperor said."

"Corinne," said the King, "my beloved Corinne, it will make no difference to you. The future and the past will be as six to one and half a dozen to the other. You will always be Corinne. Have no fear, and--as my friend Gorman would say, do not take off your hair."

"Tell me," said Madame.

"The Emperor," said the King, "has said to me, 'Buy back the island or else marry the American.' In that way also Salissa would return to the Crown of Megalia."

Gorman fully expected that Madame Ypsilante would at once have broken every gla.s.s on the table. It would not have surprised him in the least if she had torn handfuls of hair off the King's head. To his amazement she laughed. It was a most unpleasant laugh. But it was not the laugh of a lunatic. It was not even hysterical.

"That imbecile," she said, "that miss!"

Her contempt for the girl left no room for jealousy. Madame Ypsilante did not seem to care whether the King married or did not.

"I don't think much of that plan," said Gorman. "Your Emperor may be the everlasting boss you seem to think----"

"In the register of Lloyd's," said the King, "he takes place in the cla.s.s A 1st."

"But," said Gorman, "he hasn't much sense if he thinks that a girl like Miss Donovan can be married off in that way to any one he chooses to name. I'm not saying anything against your character, sir----"

"My Konrad," said Madame Ypsilante, "is Konrad."

"Exactly," said Gorman. "Those are my points put concisely in two words. First he's yours and next he's himself. No. I don't think that you've much chance of buying back the island, but you've no chance at all of marrying the girl."

"I do not want either the one or the other," said the King. "I do not care the cursing of a tinker, not a two-a-penny d.a.m.n if I never put my eye on the island or the girl. Arrange which you prefer. I place both into your hands, my dear Gorman. I leave them there. I shall put my foot on the bill if you buy and the price is moderate. I shall toe the scratch if you arrange that I lead the American to the altar of Hymen.

Settle, arrange, fix down which you will."

Gorman gasped. He was always ready to give disinterested advice in the King's affairs. He was even willing to lend a helping hand in times of difficulty; but he was startled at being asked to act as plenipotentiary for the sale of a kingdom or the negotiation of a royal marriage.

"Do you mean to say," he said, "that you expect me to arrange the whole thing?"

"You have tumbled to the idea with precision," said the King. "You have caught it on. You are wonderful, my friend. Thus everything arranges. You go to Salissa and tell the American the wishes of the Emperor. Corinne and I return to Paris. If a sale is arranged----"

"I will not part with my pearls," said Madame. "Neither for the Emperor nor for any one."

"Corinne!" said the King reproachfully. "Would I ask it of you? No. If a sale is arranged I give a bill to the American, a bill of three months, and for security I place at his disposal--I pledge the revenue of Megalia for ten years; for a hundred years. If it seems more desirable that I marry; good, I am ready. The American girl comes to Paris. I meet her. We marry. The Emperor is satisfied. It is upon you, my dear Gorman, to fix it down."

"I don't see," said Gorman, "how I can possibly undertake----It's asking a lot, you know. Besides----"

"You are my friend," said the King. "Can I ask more than too much from my friend?"

"Besides," said Gorman, "it's no kind of use. Donovan isn't likely to sell. He certainly wouldn't accept your bill if he did sell. And marrying the girl is out of the question. What's the good of my undertaking impossibilities?"

The King stood up. With his cigar between his fingers he raised his right hand above his head. He laid his left hand upon his shirt front.

It was an impressive and heroic att.i.tude.

"For Gorman, M.P.," he said, "there are in the world no impossibilities. For his talents all careers are open doors. When Gorman, M.P., says 'I do it,' the d.a.m.ned thing at once is done. I offer----But no. I do not offer where I trust----I confer upon Gorman, M.P., the Order of the Royal Pink Vulture of Megalia, First Cla.s.s. You are Knight Commander, my friend. You are also Count Gorman if you wish."

Madame Ypsilante slipped from her chair and knelt down at Gorman's feet. She took his right hand and kissed it with every appearance of fervour.

"You will do it," she said, "for the sake of Konrad Karl. Oh, Sir Gorman, M.P., you would do it at once if you understood. Poor Konrad!

He is having so much delight with me in Paris. This time only in our lives it has come to us to have enough money and to be in Paris. It is cruel--so cruel that the Emperor should say: 'No. Give back the money.

Go from Paris. Be starved. Have no pearls, no joy.' But you will save us. Say you will save us."

Gorman's position was an exceedingly difficult one. Madame Ypsilante had firm hold on his hand. She was kissing it at the moment. He was not at all sure that she would not bite it if he refused her request.

"I'll think the whole thing over," he said. "I don't expect I can do anything, but I'll look into the matter and let you know."

Madame mouthed his hand in a frenzy of grat.i.tude. She wept copiously.

Gorman could feel drops which he supposed to be tears trickling down the inside of his sleeve. The King seized his other hand and shook it heartily.

"It is now as good as done," he said. "Let us drink to success. I ring the bell. I order champagne, one bottle, two bottles, three, many bottles in the honour of my friend Sir Gorman who has said: 'd.a.m.n it, I will.'"

Under the influence of the second bottle of champagne the King escaped from his heroic mood. Gorman began to realize that a certain cunning lay behind the preposterous proposal he had listened to.

"I shall inform the Emperor," said the King, "that you go to Salissa to arrange according to his wish. I shall say: 'M.P. Count Sir Gorman goes. He is a statesman, a financier, a diplomat, a man of uncommon sense.' The Emperor will then be satisfied."

"He'll probably be very dissatisfied when I come back," said Gorman.

"That will be--let me consider--perhaps eight weeks. In eight weeks many things may happen. And if not, still Corinne and I will have had eight weeks in Paris with oof which we can burn. It is something."

CHAPTER XIII

In the end Gorman made up his mind to go to Salissa. I do not suppose that the King's gift of the Order of the Pink Vulture had much to do with his decision. Nor do I think that he went out of pure kindness of heart, in order to give Konrad Karl and Madame Ypsilante eight weeks of unalloyed delight in Paris. I know that he never had the slightest intention of trying to persuade Donovan to part with the island, and--Gorman has not much conscience, but he has some--nothing would have induced him to suggest a marriage between Miss Daisy and the disreputable King. He went to Salissa because that island seemed in a fair way to become a very interesting place.

On the very evening of Gorman's dinner with the King I happened to meet Sir Bartholomew Bland-Potterton at another, a much duller dinner party. Sir Bartholomew was not yet Secretary of State for Balkan Problems, but he was well known as an authority on the Near East, and was in constant unofficial touch with the Foreign Office. He is a big man in his way, and I was rather surprised when he b.u.t.tonholed me after the ladies had left the room. I am not a big man in any way.

"Do you happen to know a man called Gorman?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, "Michael Gorman. I've met him. In fact, I know him pretty well."

"Nationalist M.P.?"

"Sits for Upper Offaly," I said. "Can't blame him for that. Four hundred a year is something these times."

"Bit of a blackguard, I suppose? All those fellows are."

Now, an Irishman can call another Irishman a blackguard without offence. We know each other intimately and are fond of strong language, but we do not like being called blackguards by Englishmen.

They do not understand us and never will. Sir Bartholomew's description of Gorman was in bad taste and I resented it. However, there was no use trying to explain our point of view. You cannot explain anything to that kind of Englishman.

"He's a Member of Parliament," I said, "of your own English Parliament. I believe that all members are honourable gentlemen."

Sir Bartholomew is a wonderful man. He actually took that remark of mine as a testimonial to Gorman's character. The thing is almost incredible, but he evidently felt that the word honourable, as officially used, had a meaning something like that of trustworthy.

"I wonder," said Sir Bartholomew, "if he's a man to whom one could talk safely on a rather confidential subject?"