“Blackmail?” said Donovan.
The King looked puzzled, though “blackmail” is a word he might have been expected to know. Gorman explained.
“Getting money out of you,” he said, “for hushing up any inconvenient little episodes, undertaking not to tell stories he happened to have heard. You know the sort of thing I mean.”
“No man,” said the King sadly, “can get money out of me. It is like—how do you say?—the riding breeches of the Scottish soldiers, not there. Nor do I say hush about my little episodes. Pooh! my friend Gorman. These episodes, what are they? The English middling classes like to pretend that there are no episodes. But there are, always, and we others—we do not say hush.”
“If it wasn’t blackmail,” said Donovan, “what kept him tracking you?”
“Ask my friend Gorman,” said the King. “He knows.”
“I do not,” said Gorman, “unless——”
King Konrad Karl smiled pleasantly.
“Unless——” said Gorman. “Oh, damn it all. I suppose it was the Emperor.”
“You have it,” said the King. “He is of the Emperor’s secret service. He and Steinwitz. Steinwitz I do not like. He is an arrogant. He assumes always the attitude of the dog on top. But of Fritz I make no complaint. He is always civilian.”