It was then that the Major sprang to his feet and slapped his deerskin riding breeches of spotless white in pure amazement and joy. “Why,” he cried, “I know the very man you want; and by a strange coincidence he is here on this very spot. He is Ferdinand of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, grandson of Louis Philippe of France, and cousin of every crowned head in Europe. He is a prime favourite of both the Emperor of Austria and the Czar of Russia. And, my boys, don’t say I told you so, but he is as rich as Crœsus.”
Grekoff, Galtcheff, and Stoiloff—such were the names of the three simple Bulgars—looked at one another with glistening eyes. It seemed too good to be true. “Come along with me,” urged the genial Major, “and be presented to him. He’s just in here,” and he led the way to the billiard-room.
There the eyes of the three men from Sofia fell upon a tall young man of twenty-six, who with a billiard cue in his hand, was walking round the table with a gait that was curious in its mincing affectation. He was clad in the uniform of an Austrian sub-lieutenant, and was really quite a beautiful thing in the way of princes.
His face was remarkable for its length, and for the cruel hook that marked the prominent nose. The eyes were bright with intelligence, the lips thin and set tight. And in his right eye he wore a monocle with a gilt rim, a rarer embellishment to a young man in those days than in these. As they watched him he posed for the shot—a difficult cannon—and made it with infinite skill and appearance of ease. Then moving to take his place for another shot, he let the monocle fall from his eye and turned and faced them squarely. But even then they noticed that he did not look at them.
Introductions were made, and soon the five men were seated at a table by a quiet bar, with opened bottles before them. In less than half an hour the three Bulgarians were offering this young exquisite the post which all the young princes of Europe had refused in quick succession, and he was staring at them through his monocle with a regard in which shyness and impudence were blended.
At heart he was furious. He had been waiting for this offer for weeks. He and his mother had talked of nothing else. But these clods from the least civilized of the Balkan States had ignored him; had actually been unaware of his existence. So, as they eagerly set out the advantages of their offer, and pressed for its instant acceptance, he smiled sardonically, and framed the words of his answer.
When he delivered it, it filled them with dismay. Very quietly he expressed his sense of the honour they had done him, and of his own unworthiness for so important a post. Then he reminded them that the Powers of Europe must be consulted before he could safely accept. With remarkable cunning he made them feel that, should he accept, he would be doing them a favour. Then he dismissed them, greatly abashed.
Some months later, however, they were received at the Coburg palace in Vienna, and overwhelmed with flatteries by his clever old mother. Difficulties were discussed, their power to make the offer questioned, and a great show of wealth and influence, both of which the Princess Clementine certainly possessed, was made. Eventually an arrangement was reached whereby Stoiloff should visit the Princess’s country palace at Ebenthal, bringing with him two influential Bulgarians of the mission, Vinaroff and Popoff.
This last was a stern old warrior and a keen judge of men. Ferdinand received them in a gorgeous reception-room, surrounded already by the state of a reigning prince. By a writing-table near the window sat the keen-faced old woman who had spent half her life to fulfil her ambition of seating her son upon a throne.
The ordeal was almost too much for Ferdinand. He stood there, affecting the ease he had acquired in his pilgrimages through the Courts of Europe. But old Popoff could smell the perfume with which he reeked, and could see the nervous trembling of his hands as he sought to evade his warrior eye. But for the inspiring presence of his mother, Ferdinand might have thrown away the chance for which his boyhood and young manhood had been spent. But he got through somehow; the offer was made and accepted, conditionally upon the consent of the Powers being given to it.