"I beg your pardon—"
Benton recognized the coldly modulated voice before he glanced up at the cloaked figure.
"Colonel Von Ritz," he said, "I am honored."
Von Ritz bowed.
"His Majesty requests that you will do him the honor of coming to the Palace with me—now."
Despite the form of request in which the summons was couched, Von Ritz clothed it in a coldness that brought to Benton's mind the implacable politeness of an arrest. At the hint he stiffened.
"If His Majesty requests my presence," he replied with some shortness, "it will be a pleasure to present myself at once. If—" he paused and looked at the stiffly erect figure before him, "if the peremptory tone you assume is a part of your instruction, I must remind you that I am an American citizen, entirely free to accept or decline invitations—even when they come from the Palace."
Von Ritz replied with unruffled gravity.
"If it will add to your sense of security, Mr. Benton, I shall be pleased to drive you to your Legation and to have your government's representative accompany us."
Benton flushed. "I was not speaking from any sense of personal insecurity," he explained. "But I wished you to understand the manner in which I prefer to be approached."