“You’re sure?”
“Well! not entirely! Ouro Preto himself said the appointment was for ten o’clock tomorrow, but Lord Maxwell said it was for eleven tonight, and I suspect that Ouro Preto was mistaken.”
Rutile sat down again, slowly. “So do I,” he replied, drily. “But what I most want to know is, why did he tell you about it?”
Topham laughed. “Oh! he was too full of it to keep still. Pure spontaneousness!”
“Spontaneous fiddlesticks! What did you say? What did he ask you?”
“Why! I don’t know! Nothing important. Let’s see. I believe he said he feared somebody might oppose the restoration of the dukedom, and that he was afraid to speak to most people about it, but that he could talk to me because of course the United States had no interest—”
“Oh!”
“Eh? Yes! I told him of course we hadn’t. Queer, though! Lord Maxwell asked me later almost the same thing. Wanted to know whether the United States objected to the Kaiser giving Ouro Preto his toy? As if the United States had any interest in petty German dukedoms!”
Rutile threw up his hands. “Lord! Lord!” he cried. “I suppose you told Maxwell that?” he queried.
“Of course. What the devil is the matter with you, Rutile?”