“I’m going to Belgrade,” I answered.
“By all means go. You’ll see things then for yourself.”
“What would happen if she got the loan?”
“She won’t get it, Mr. Bergwyn. The government is tottering now—and perhaps the throne. Anything can happen in Belgrade at any time—except the floating of a loan.”
“I shall go to Belgrade. We’re ready to carry risks, you know, when a thing’s right.”
“Oh, yes, by all means go, as I said. They’ll make much of you; but remember when you’re there what I’ve said, in confidence, and—don’t.”
I could judge by the insistence upon this advice that he thought I was still undecided; and as that was just the impression I wished to leave, I said no more.
Two days later I left for Belgrade, where, as my friend the minister had told me, I found them quite ready to make much of me, as a sort of possible financial saviour of the country. I soon saw the influence which I could wield even in regard to the real purpose which took me to the capital.
But even within a few hours of my arrival, and while I was disposed to shake hands with myself for the adroit course which I was managing to steer, I met with an ugly check—most unwelcome and disconcerting.
A large house had been placed at my disposal, and I had breakfasted on the morning after my arrival and was planning my movements for the day, when my man, Buller, brought me a card.