“Yes,” said Selden; “nobody can object to that.”
“Do not forget, M. Selden, as I have already pointed out to you, that the king is very popular with his people. He could have appealed to them before this with every hope of success; but before he did so, he wished to be in position to assure their future.”
“You are sure that Miss Davis will wish to use her millions in this way?”
“But, yes—have you not yourself seen it? She is on fire at the great opportunity—such as comes to very few women. And there is a certain justice, it seems to me, in the fact that the millions wrung from that mountain of copper by the labour of our young men are to be used for the succour and rejuvenation of their country.”
“That is one way of regarding it, certainly,” Selden conceded. He glanced at young Davis, who, more morose than ever, was tracing patterns with his glass on the cloth. Had he no interest in his sister’s future? Well, there was one question which must be asked, and he himself would ask it. “What about Miss Davis herself—her happiness, her well-being? Is she going to be just a tool in your hands?”
Davis looked up, his eyes a little bloodshot, an ironical smile upon his lips, as though wondering how Selden could be so silly.
“I thank you for that question, sir,” put in the king, with the utmost earnestness. “As for Miss Davis, I charge myself with her. She shall be my daughter. Have no fear. I was entirely serious in what I said just now about the succession. I shall have the necessary papers executed and passed by the Assembly so that, in case of my death, my wishes can be carried out if there is need.”
Danilo shrugged his shoulders. After all, he seemed to say, there were many places in the world more amusing than his bleak little capital. And there was Madame Ghita....
The king regarded him sombrely.
“Young people to-day are lacking in reverence,” he said, speaking in French. “They have no sense of responsibility. It was not so in my time. I had only nineteen years when my uncle died—Danilo, after whom this young man is named—and I was proclaimed Prince. It was not until fifty years later that the Powers accorded me the title of King. During all that time I had laboured ceaselessly; I had driven pestilence and famine from my country; I had organized an army and defeated the Turk; I had founded a system of education, which still remains the best in the Balkans; I had granted my people a Constitution and an Assembly, and was leading them along the path of self-government.