Stambuloff looked him over with a loud snort. “I cannot, and will not, be seen with you, if you don’t take that rubbish off,” he shouted; and then as a malicious afterthought added: “Why not spend the money on a trusty body-guard?” And the ruffian laughed aloud as Ferdinand went livid in his gorgeous purple and ermine robe. For it was an open secret that Bulgaria held no terror for Ferdinand to compare with his fear of assassination.
But even the fear of assassination could not scare him off his uneasy throne. “Mon Dieu!” said he. “As they leave me here I will remain. The position is not particularly brilliant, but where is a better one to be found? I am a reigning prince. I have a pretty good civil list, and rather pleasant shooting. I might as well be here as anywhere else.” There, you see, is the real Ferdinand, with his habitual cant phrases laid aside for once.
And he soon found an occupation that pleased him infinitely, and filled in the gaps of his time very pleasantly while he was making acquaintance with the language and customs of Bulgaria. He occupied himself with the organization of such a secret police service as has disgraced no other country in the nineteenth century. The ranks of this precious service were recruited from handy foreigners who had established themselves in Bulgaria for some time. In that service promotion was rapid—provided that the agent was a good and trustworthy assassin.
He paid these worthies out of his own pocket, and their work was the constant espionage on all the leading men of Bulgaria. Thus he got acquainted with all the peccadilloes of the men who governed the country for him, while they despised the scented dandy who came among them with such show of royal state.
Where real misbehaviour could not be discovered, imaginary offences were invented in plenty, and Ferdinand soon had evidence against every man of any importance in his realm. How he made use of these secret dossiers can well be imagined. Those most guilty were made his tools by threats of exposure and punishment, and he gathered around him the support of the worst blackguards in Bulgaria.
This work provided congenial employment for the young Prince, who had been nurtured on the morals of Machiavelli and the traditions of Talleyrand. His spies made Sofia the most uncomfortable city for the stranger that Europe possessed, but the habitués of the place paid little heed to his army of Mouchards. For even before the coming of Ferdinand, the customs of the Bulgarian capital were nothing very nice.
And thus Ferdinand learned the language of his subjects, and added his own little improvements to their customs and traditions. But there was something that worried him beyond the boundaries of his principality, and as it worried his devoted mother even more, it soon began to occupy the whole of his attention.
For the Powers of Europe would not recognize his appointment as Prince of Bulgaria.
THE MAN WHO WOULD BE KING