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He was most anxious that the transaction should be successfully completed and the money actually paid. The King's evident nervousness about the Emperor impressed him unpleasantly. Gorman was not a student of foreign politics. He did not know precisely what the Emperor's position was. Megalia was nominally an independent state.
Miss Daisy's direct and simple way of attacking great problems confirmed him in his belief that Woman Suffrage would be a profound mistake. He was relieved when, after dinner, Donovan himself started a new subject. "I hear," he said, "that there is a king, a European monarch, resident in this hotel. That so?" "King Konrad Karl II of Megalia," said Gorman. "Friend of yours?"
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 say Real Politik or the Emperor. I simply can't believe that either one or the other would set that pirate shooting at us." "It is Real Politik, without doubt," said the King. "And it is the Emperor. But it is also me, me, Konrad Karl of Megalia.
"He could be approached," he said, "by a plain American citizen, if that citizen came with a business proposition in his hand." Gorman saw what he believed to be an opportunity. Donovan apparently wanted to do business with the King. Such business must necessarily be connected with Megalia.
That young lady very charming I'm sure and her father's immensely rich, but well, you know what young girls are." "Got engaged to a Royal Duke?" said Gorman, "or run away with the chauffeur?" "Oh no, nothing of that sort. Not at all. The statement with which I'm concerned is that her father has bought an island and some kind of title for her from that unfortunate young King of Megalia."
The advertisements hinted without actually stating that the King had succeeded in carrying off a thousand dozen bottles of this wine out of the royal cellars when he fled from his subjects in Megalia. The bottles in which Vino Regalis was sold had yards of gold foil wrapped round their necks. They were in their way quite as splendid and obtrusive as Madame Corinne was in hers.
He saw the impossibility of leading Corinne to the foot of the imperial throne; and he felt that, after all, the King was right from his own point of view. Corinne was more desirable than many fatted calves. He cast about for some other way out of the difficult position. "We might," he said, "make something out of Megalia." "Nothing," said the King. "I have been in Megalia and I know it.
What are you offering him?" "The Allies," said Sir Bartholomew, "would recognise him as the King of Megalia, and er of course, support him." "I don't think he'd thank you for that," said Gorman, "but you can try him if you like." Sir Bartholomew, on reflection, was inclined to agree with Gorman.
"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.
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.
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