“It is true, your Majesty,” the officer answered, “and in consequence we have scarcely a modern gun at the barracks. The battery which has arrived here was intended for the Russian Government, but was purchased, the person in charge informs me, by a private individual for cash, as a coronation present to your Majesty.”
The King started.
“Are you sure that there is no mistake?” he asked.
“None, your Majesty,” the officer answered. “The messenger is quite explicit. It is a princely gift. Colonel Dartnoff instructed me to make an immediate report to your Majesty.”
Ughtred for a moment was puzzled.
“I know of no one,” he said reflectively, “who could make such a present.”
The young officer hesitated.
“The artillery man in charge, your Majesty, claims to have seen the donor’s cheque. It was a draft upon Rothschilds, drawn by an American of the name of Van Decht.”
Ughtred caught up the telegram by his side. His eyes were suddenly bright. He understood.
“You will inform the agent in charge,” he said, “that I will receive him to-morrow, and arrange a date to inspect the battery.”