The Island Mystery Part 17

"I see. Well, supposing I undertake the job, what am I to say to Donovan? He's paid a big price for that island. Is he to get his money back?"

"Of course, of course. No one expects Mr. Donovan to make any financial sacrifice."

"Who's going to pay?"

"The King. King Konrad Karl."

"That King," said Gorman, "isn't very good at paying."

"In this case he will have no choice. The Emperor will insist on his paying."

"The Emperor is a powerful man," said Gorman, "but even he would hardly be able to make King Konrad Karl fork out what he hasn't got.

You may safely bet your last shilling that most of what Donovan paid for that island is spent, chucked away, gone scat."

"The Emperor," said Sir Bartholomew, "will be responsible for the return in full of the purchase price."

"Very well," said Gorman, "and now suppose Donovan won't sell. Suppose he simply says 'No.'"

"There is an alternative policy," said Sir Bartholomew. "It has occurred to some of us who are interested in the matter--I am not now speaking with the authority of any amba.s.sador, certainly not with the formal approval of our Foreign Office. It has occurred to _me_--I will put it that way. It has occurred to me that the matter might be settled quite satisfactorily to all parties, to the Emperor certainly if----The King of Megalia is, I think, unmarried."

"There's Madame Ypsilante," said Gorman, "a lady----"

"A lady! Pooh! In these cases there is always a lady. But the King is unmarried. Miss Donovan, so we understand, wishes to be a queen. You catch my meaning?"

"Perfectly. You want me to arrange a marriage between----"

"My dear Mr. Gorman! I want nothing of the sort. I do not ask you to arrange anything. I merely say that if such a marriage were to take place the Emperor would probably be satisfied. I am aware that the personal character of King Konrad Karl is not such----But he is a young man. There are possibilities of improvement."

"There's certainly room for it."

"Exactly. And the influence of a good woman is just what is needed. A young, sweet, innocent girl has a marvellous influence. She appeals to that best which is present even in the worst of us." Sir Bartholomew liked this phrase. He repeated it. "That best, that astonishing best, which is always present even in the worst of us. She might call it out. She might make a new man of King Konrad Karl."

Gorman looked at Sir Bartholomew with an expression of grave and interested inquiry.

"You think that if Miss Donovan married the King she would save him from the clutches of Madame Ypsilante."

"Not a doubt of it. And what a splendid thing that would be! It's just the sort of an idea which would make a strong appeal to a girl. Women like the idea of reforming their husbands. Besides, the prospect for her is in other respects most brilliant. She would be recognized by the Emperor. She would be received in the most exclusive Courts of Europe. But I need not expatiate. You understand the position."

"I don't remember any case of an American heiress marrying a king,"

said Gorman.

"Just so. This would be unique, splendid. And I need not say, Mr.

Gorman, that if you see your way to oblige us in this matter your services will not go unrecognized. If there is any particular way in which you would like us to show our appreciation you have only to mention it. The next Honours List----"

"All right," said Gorman, "I'll go. Where is Salissa?"

"In the Cyrenian Sea. It's an island. Quite charming, I believe. I am sure you will enjoy the trip. Your best plan will be to see Steinwitz about the matter. Steinwitz is managing director----"

"Quite so. I know him. Cyrenian Sea Steam Navigation Company."

"His ships go there," said Sir Bartholomew. "I have no doubt that he will arrange for you to make the voyage comfortably. I may mention, between ourselves, that Steinwitz is interested in the success of the negotiations."

"Acting for the Emperor?"

"Well, yes. Unofficially. He is in a certain sense the agent of the Emperor."

"All right," said Gorman. "I'll see him. And if I pull the thing off I may count on----?"

"You may ask for what you like," said Sir Bartholomew. "You've only got to drop me a hint. Anything in reason. A knighthood? Or a baronetcy? I think we could manage a baronetcy. A post in the Government? A Civil List pension? Your services to literature fully ent.i.tle you----"

"On the whole," said Gorman, "I think I'll ask for Home Rule for Ireland."

"Ah," said Sir Bartholomew, "you Irish! Always witty! Always sparkling, paradoxical, brilliant! I shall tell the Prime Minister what you say. He'll enjoy it. What should we do without you Irish?

Life would be dull indeed. What is it the poet says? Wordsworth, I think. 'Turning to mirth, All things of earth, As only boyhood can.'

You are all boys. That is why we love you. Your freshness. Your delightful capacity for the absurd. I feel that in choosing you for this delicate mission we have chosen the right man. Only an Irishman could hope to succeed in an affair of this kind. Good-bye, Mr. Gorman, and be sure to let me know in good time what we are to do for you.

I'll charge myself with seeing that your claim is not overlooked."

CHAPTER XIV

"I'm going, of course," said Gorman. "The whole thing is interesting, quite exciting."

He had just given me a detailed account of his interview with Sir Bartholomew Bland-Potterton, and a rather picturesque version of the way King Konrad Karl presented his case.

"Do you expect," I said, "to be able to persuade Donovan to sell?"

"Of course not," said Gorman. "I don't even mean to try."

"Gorman," I said, "I'm accustomed more or less to political morality, I mean the morality of politicians. I recognize--everybody must recognize--that you can't be expected to tie yourselves down to the ordinary standards. But----"

"What _are_ you talking about?"

"Oh, nothing much. Only you've accepted a Pink Vulture from Megalia and a baronetcy from England as a reward for services you don't mean to render. Now is that quite--quite----?"

Gorman looked at me for a minute without speaking. There was a peculiar twinkle in his eyes.

"If I were you," he said at last, "I'd go back to Ireland for a while.

Try Dublin. You have been too long over here. You wouldn't say things like that if you weren't becoming English."

I accepted the rebuke. Gorman was perfectly right. In English public life it is necessary to profess a respect for decency, to make ap.r.o.ns of fig leaves. In Ireland we do without these coverings.

"I shouldn't wonder," said Gorman, "if I got some sort of decoration out of the Emperor too before I'm through with this business. Once these ribbons and stars begin to drop on a man, they come thick and fast, kind of attract each other, I suppose. I wonder," he added with sudden irrelevancy, "what the Emperor's game is. That's what I've been trying to make out all along. Why is he in it?"

"He wants the Island of Salissa restored to the Crown of Megalia," I said. "You've been told that often enough."