Rulers of kings: A novel

by Gertrude Franklin Horn Atherton

During the last day of his tramp he had looked down twenty avenues of possible greatness, and turned his back upon all. He was not discouraged, for he knew that inspiration comes suddenly, even if it be the final result of industrious raking. He was now returning to demand a vacation of some months, during which he would tramp and study Europe in his own way. But inspiration was closer than he knew, and although he was to tramp Europe again and again with various and, in one case, extraordinary results, there were to be intervening years.

As he jumped into his canoe and set his sail, he saw that the Alexandra was no longer the solitary inhabitant of the fjord. Not half a mile from his father’s yacht was what looked to be a miniature man-of-war. It was painted white, and had a heavily gilded figure-head. In a few moments he was close enough to see the colors and design on the standard. He whistled and experienced a glow of anticipation.

“The German Emperor! I hardly know whether I am more anxious to see him or his yacht. Ours is the biggest in the world—of course!—his is the most original; but that may only mean resource: he couldn’t get the money voted any other way. The more I hear of Europe the rottener it appears, with the exception of Germany. This man seems to be making an American city out of Berlin, and to have plenty of sand all-round. Some one has said of him that he is an autocrat with a Yankee head on his shoulders; and, if that is the case, he may be worth studying for future points.”

Nevertheless, when a half-hour later his father told him that the Emperor had invited him to visit the Hohenzollern the day of his return, he sniffed with youthful Americanism.

“I don’t fancy waiting till I’m spoken to,” he announced—“for his high-mightiness to introduce every subject. He may be interesting in himself, but he is a monarch, and I have no use for any of them. They are a burlesque in the end of the nineteenth century.”

“Tell that to William, if you like, and introduce what subjects interest you—if you get a chance. He observes little formality up here, and less with Americans. Now please go and exchange that sweater and those pants—they are not trousers—for a suit of flannels.”

XXI

Fessenden drew a long and audible breath. It had not occurred to him soon enough to keep tally, but he felt justified in assuming that he had answered eight hundred questions. The power and magnetism of the Emperor still impressed him, but the fascination had waned. When he had boarded the yacht early in the afternoon, excited with a sensation that was half eager curiosity, half aggressive fear of being patronized, and had received a hearty greeting from a man as informal as he was charming, Fessenden had promptly conceived his first enthusiasm for a contemporary. He had as promptly reminded himself that he too intended to inspire enthusiasms—that his was not the rôle of the follower; nevertheless he had beamed back upon his imperial host; and, in spite of a flinty reserve in the background of both pairs of eyes, a mutual friendship was conceived at once. The Emperor had taken care to cement his personal fascination by exhibiting the machinery of his new yacht to his curious young guest, and a twenty-minutes’ argument on a subject of which one had much practical knowledge and the other almost as much by theory and observation, established a respect as strong as the sentiment. But when they were seated alone on deck, the Emperor’s inquiring mind was no longer to be restrained. A conversation with Mr. Abbott the day before had excited his curiosity; his interrogations began upon Fessenden’s babyhood; and then, with the rapid strokes of a minute impressionist, never losing sight of causes and effects, he built up a complete picture of a self-made boy with a beneficent providence in the background. In three-quarters of an hour he not only knew the boy in the wilderness as well as the boy had known himself, but the history of the Nettlebecks, the size and condition of their farm, their attitude—or, as he discovered, their lack of attitude—towards Germany, the area of the Adirondack tract, the attention—or lack of attention—given it by the government, the inferior condition, as compared with Germany, of its forests, its roads, its bridges. His questions and comments showed such grasp and activity of intelligence that for a time Fessenden was as interested as the Man of Questions, and there were intervals when he was permitted to give a bit of thrilling description, notably of logging-camps and “driving,” which, as the Emperor’s eyes kindled and his horned upper lip twitched, flattered him for five or six consecutive minutes.

But from the Adirondacks, William passed swiftly to the Western University, and here his curiosity threatened to be insatiable. His questions indicated that Harvard and Yale could tell him no secrets, but of this more modern institution he had never heard until the day before; and an enterprise so novel, practical, and cheap appealed irresistibly to a ruler bent upon modernizing his country and making it the strongest industrially in Europe. He made no secret of the cause of his interest, and Fessenden sympathized heartily with the ambitious and energetic young monarch, and glowed at the thought of flinging a handful of American seeds broadcast upon the German Empire. But at the end of an hour and a quarter, when he had not only presented a picture of the university in all its complex details, from its methods of military drill to the last drop of grease in the machine-shops, but had sketched the personalities of all the professors and the most notable of the students, the strident tones of the august interlocutor seemed to be banging about in his brain, the abrupt rapid firing to have torn his nerves to tatters. The impatient action of his lungs receiving no attention from his host, whose eyes were concentrated and glittering, he sprang suddenly to his feet.

“Look here!” he exclaimed. “I really can’t stand it any longer. I’ll come back to-morrow, if you like. I think you are a great man, and I’m only too delighted to help you in any way I can, but if you ask me another question to-day I’ll jump off the yacht.”