“My best wishes to you and for the welfare of your kingdom. May my offering remain forever an ornament. May peace and happiness be the lot of your people and your own.—Sara van Decht.”
“A coronation present with such a wish,” he said to himself, “must remain an enigma. Enter.”
An attendant withdrew the curtain.
“Captain Hartzan, of the Artillery, desires a moment’s audience with your Majesty,” the servant announced.
The King nodded.
“Let him be shown in.”
A young officer bowed low as he passed through the curtains.
“Your Majesty,” he announced, “a messenger has arrived at the barracks from the English firm of Vickers, Son, and Maxim. He is in charge of a whole battery of Maxims and quick-firing pom-poms, and awaits instructions as to their delivery.”
“I know nothing of them,” the King answered. “I understood that the firm you mention had declined the orders of the late Government.”