In the meanwhile the Order was bestowed on two Brigadier Generals and three Colonels, all on active service in remote parts of the world. Little pictures of the star and ribbon of the Order appeared in the back pages of illustrated papers, and there were short articles in the Sunday papers which gave a history of the Order, describing it as the most ancient in Europe, and quoting the names of eminent men who had won the ribbon of the Order in times past. The Duke of Wellington, Lord Nelson, William the Silent, Galileo, Christopher Columbus, and the historian Gibbon appeared on the list. The Order was next bestowed on an Admiral, who held a command in the South Pacific, and on M. Clemenceau.
After that Gorman dined with the King.
The dinner, as is always the case in Beaufort’s Hotel, was excellent. The wine was good. Madame Ypsilante wore a dress which, as she explained, was more than three months old.
Emile, it appeared, was still pressing for payment of the bill and refused to supply any more clothes. However, neither age nor custom had staled the splendour of the purple velvet gown and the jewellery—Madame Ypsilante always wore a great deal of jewellery—was dazzling.
The king seemed a little uneasy, and after dinner spoke to Gorman about the Megalian Order of the Pink Vulture.
“You are magnificent, Gorman,” he said, “and your English press! Ah, my friend, if you had been Prime Minister in Megalia, and if there had been newspapers, I might to-day be sitting on the throne, though I do not want to, not at all. The throne of Megalia is what you call a hot spot. But my friend is it wise? There must be someone who knows that the Pink Vulture of Megalia is not an antique. It is, as the English say, mid-Victorian. 1865, Gorman. That is the date; and someone will know that.”
“I daresay,” said Gorman, “that there may be two or three people who know; but they haven’t opened their mouths so far and before they do we ought to have Bilkins’ checque safe.”
“How much?” said Madame. “That is the thing which matters.”
“After he’s read the list of distinguished men who held the order in the past and digested the names of all the generals and people who’ve just been given it, we may fairly expect £5,000. We’ll screw him up a bit if we can, but we won’t take a penny less. Considering the row there’ll be afterwards, when Bilkins finds out, we ought to get £10,000. It will be most unpleasant, and it’s bound to come. Most of the others will refuse the Order as soon as they hear they’ve been given it, and Bilkins will storm horribly and say he has been swindled, not that there is any harm in swindling Bilkins. After that egg racket of his he deserves to be swindled. Still it won’t be nice to have to listen to him.”
“Bah!” said Madame, “we shall have the cash.”