The scheme sounded daring, and yet it seemed to have a very good chance of success. To a European eye one Chinaman is very like another. And there were not likely to be many people in Berlin capable of distinguishing between the manners of a prince and a barber, apart from their surroundings.
‘I don’t see why the plan shouldn’t succeed,’ I said aloud. ‘Its very boldness ought to carry it through.’
I observed a distinct look of satisfaction on the face of the formidable Empress as I made this comment. The interpreter hastened to respond—
‘Your words are those of a prudent man. Her Imperial Majesty offers you the honour of accompanying the Prince’s substitute, nominally as his courier, but really as his protector. You will be on the watch against any chance of detection, and will warn him against imprudent conduct.’
‘I accept her Majesty’s commission,’ was my answer.
Before the courtier could go through the form of interpreting the words, the Empress said something to him in Chinese, which caused him to start like a man who can hardly believe what he has heard.
Her Majesty made an impatient gesture at this piece of pantomime. Instantly he turned towards me.
‘Will your Excellency permit me to offer you my most respectful congratulations? The Queen of Heaven has ordered you a cup of tea!’
I realised that I was as much exalted as if a mere barbarian empress had bestowed on me an embrace. The tea was brought; a whisper from my adviser warned me that I must merely touch the cup with my finger and retire.
The interpreter, whose name I learned was Wu Tang, accompanied me from the presence to make the necessary preparations. Once away from the dreaded eye of his Imperial mistress, he proved to be a very agreeable, well-informed man, and I regretted that he was not coming on the mission to Europe.