“The Baron Von Ragastein, your Majesty,” the young officer murmured.
Dominey stood at attention for a moment and bowed a little awkwardly. The Kaiser smiled.
“It pleases me,” he said, “to see a German officer ill at ease without his uniform. Count, you will leave us. Baron Von Ragastein, be seated.”
“Sir Everard Dominey, at your service, Majesty,” Dominey replied, as he took the chair to which his august host pointed.
“Thorough in all things, I see,” the latter observed. “Sit there and be at your ease. Good reports have reached me of your work in Africa.”
“I did my best to execute your Majesty's will,” Dominey ventured.
“You did so well,” the Kaiser pronounced, “that my counsellors were unanimous in advising your withdrawal to what will shortly become the great centre of interest. From the moment of receiving our commands you appear to have displayed initiative. I gather that your personation of this English baronet has been successfully carried through?”
“Up to the present, your Majesty.”
“Important though your work in Africa was,” the Kaiser continued, “your present task is a far greater one. I wish to speak to you for these few minutes without reserve. First, though, drink a toast with me.”
From a mahogany stand at his elbow, the Kaiser drew out a long-necked bottle of Moselle, filled two very beautiful glasses, passed one to his companion and raised the other.