“The wedding will be soon, no doubt, sir?” inquired one of the Italians.
“As soon as the necessary arrangements can be made. The Baron Lappo, my minister, is already in Paris to that end. I need not tell you gentlemen how gratified I am to be allied to this powerful American family, which will enable us to do so much for our fatherland. Mlle. Davis shares this enthusiasm. I assure you that you will find her, when you meet her, to be everything that a queen should be.”
“A queen, sir?” asked Halsey, quickly. “A restoration is planned, then?”
“It is at least envisaged,” said the king. “I am going to ask my people to choose, and I have not the slightest doubt what their choice will be. But whether or not we succeed, I am still king, monsieur, and my grandson will be king after me and his son after him.”
“We should like very much to meet the lady,” some one suggested.
“I will see if it can be arranged,” said the king. “There is one thing more I wish to say to you. It is no secret that some years ago my grandson contracted a morganatic marriage with a young lady in Paris—a lady for whom I have the very highest respect and esteem. This marriage was contracted in the regular way and no attempt was made to conceal it. We are in no way ashamed of it, and I should much regret to see it made the basis of scandal or innuendo. The prince and this lady have been happy together; but the hour has come, foreseen from the beginning, when they must part. It is not an easy thing to do; but they do it with brave hearts for the sake of my country. I find it admirable, this sacrifice; I hope it will appeal to you, messieurs, also, and that you will treat it tenderly.”
It could not have been better done; it was evident that, to the Latins at least, the romantic appeal was irresistible. But on Halsey’s countenance the sardonic expression grew a little deeper. And the face of the prince was also a study.
Then somebody said something about photographs, and the king summoned his secretary and instructed him to provide them, and then he shook each man by the hand again, and so did the prince, and the interview was over.
“He is a wonder,” said Scott, as they went out together, and that seemed to sum up pretty well the impression the king had made on all of them, to judge by the comments of the crowd. Most of them were of amused admiration at the way the old king managed to carry things off. He was a poseur, yes; he was a mediæval old fossil, yes; but he had always been a friend of the journalist—an inexhaustible source of copy. So why not be kind to him? After all, what did it matter who ruled over the few square miles of barren mountains that constituted his kingdom. They were all a little weary of reformers and patriots—so many of them had proved to be mere wind-bags, or worse! Yes, they would be kind to the king. Even Scott smiled and said, “Oh, well, let’s give the old boy a chance!”
Only, Selden noticed, Halsey did not join in this discussion, but hurried away, as soon as he had passed the gates, as though to keep an appointment. Undoubtedly there would be a slashing article in the Journal. Halsey had unusual powers of invective when he let himself go.