“So long as he paid for it,” said Gorman, “I don’t see that it’s anybody else’s business.”
“You don’t understand,” said Sir Bartholomew. “I haven’t made myself clear. The fact is——” He sank his voice to an awed whisper. “The young lady is understood to claim sovereign rights over the Island of Salissa. She calls herself—it’s almost incredible, but she calls herself a queen.”
“Well,” said Gorman, “why shouldn’t she?”
“But, my dear sir! To set up a new independent kingdom! In the existing state of Balkan affairs, when the Great Powers——But of course it can be nothing but a girlish joke, a piece of light-hearted playfulness. She can’t mean——”
“Then why worry?” said Gorman. “Why should you and that attaché of the Embassy of a Friendly Power, the fellow you’ve been talking about—why should you and he start fussing?”
“My dear sir! my dear sir! Nothing, I assure you, is further from our wishes than fuss of any kind. But unfortunately, the Emperor—the Emperor—I respect and admire him, of course. We all do. But if the Emperor has a fault it is that he’s slightly deficient in humour. He does not easily see a joke. He’s a little—well——”
“Elephantine?” said Gorman.
Sir Bartholomew looked round hurriedly. The Division bell had just rung. The smoking-room was almost empty. This was fortunate. It would have been very awkward for a man in Sir Bartholomew’s position to be caught in the act of hearing an Emperor called elephantine.
“The Emperor,” said Sir Bartholomew, “has approached the United States Ambassador on the subject, indirectly, I need scarcely say. He requests, indeed insists that Salissa shall at once be restored to the Crown of Megalia. Now our idea is—and I think I know the views of the Foreign Office on the subject—our idea is that this little matter ought to be settled unofficially. A word to Mr. Donovan from a friend. A hint about the present critical condition of European politics. He might——”
“I don’t suppose,” said Gorman, “that Donovan cares a damn about European politics.”