But, after all, as the king had said, Danilo could be swept aside—would be swept aside, if necessary. He had the king’s word.
Why not, for the present at least, give the king the benefit of the doubt?
And, this point decided, Selden felt his special falling into shape in his brain, so that, when he reached the telegraph office, showed his credentials, and drew the first form from the box, it was ready to his pen.
Half an hour later, with a sigh of relief and satisfaction, he pushed the last sheet in to the impressed attendant, and started to put away his pen. Then, with a little smile, he drew out another form and wrote a hasty message.
“I will pay for this one,” he said, and waited until the attendant counted the words.
“This name, monsieur,” suggested the attendant, “perhaps you would better spell it.”
“J-e-n-e-s-k-i,” said Selden; “Jeneski.”
PART III.—WEDNESDAY
CHAPTER XII
A DAY’S WORK
WELL, it was done, Selden reflected rather grimly next morning, over his coffee.