But Topham shook his head. “Nothing of the sort, I’m sorry to say, Your Excellency,” he replied.
“No? It’s just as well. Special instructions are usually unpleasant. I’ll be glad to see you at my house if your engagements will allow, Mr. Topham.” He turned to the secretary. “Just send my mail in to me, will you, Mr. Rutile?” he finished.
Rutile turned to a pile of mail that had evidently just been dumped on the table. “Here are two letters for you right on top,” he remarked, passing them over. “If I find any more, I’ll send them in.”
“Do!Mr. Topham, since you have come so far to see Mr. Rutile, I won’t interfere with your chat with him any longer.”
The ambassador looked from one young man to the other and his eyes twinkled; but he left the room with nothing more except a nod.
As soon as he was gone, Rutile turned to Topham. “Well! Let’s have it, old man!” he exclaimed.
Topham did not answer at once. He had drawn near the table and was staring at the pile of mail matter. “So this is how you get your mail,” he remarked, with apparent irrelevance.
“That! Oh! that isn’t official mail! That’s mostly letters and papers for tourists sent in care of the embassy. The official mail comes in a private bag. But let’s have those instructions.”
Topham’s eyebrows went up! “What instructions?” he demanded.
“The instructions you brought me from the Secretary of State, of course.”