“I promise not only to listen, but to hear,” laughing; “not only to hear, but to think. Is that sufficient?”
“For three years,” began the Englishman, “I have been England's representative here. As a representative I could not meddle with your affairs, though it was possible to observe them. To-day I am an unfettered agent of self, and with your permission I shall talk to you as I have never talked before and never shall again.”
The diplomat rose from his seat and walked up and down the path, his hands clasped behind his back, his chin in his collar. The bulldog yawned, stretched himself, and followed his master, soberly and thoughtfully. After a while the Englishman returned to his chair and sat down. The dog gravely imitated him. He understood, perhaps better than the king, his master's mood. This pacing backward and forward was always the forerunner of something of great importance.
During the past year he had been the repository of many a secret. Well, he knew how to keep one. Did not he carry a secret which his master would have given much to know? Some one in far away India, after putting him into the ship steward's care, had whispered: “You tell the governor that I think just as much of him as ever.” He had made a desperate effort to tell it the moment he was liberated from the box, but he had not yet mastered that particular language which characterized his master's race.
“To begin with,” said the diplomat, “what would your Majesty say if I should ask permission to purchase the entire loan?”
CHAPTER II. THE COUP D'ETAT OF COUSIN JOSEF
The king, who had been leaning forward, fell back heavily in his seat, his eyes full wide and his mouth agape. Then, to express his utter bewilderment, he raised his hands above his head and limply dropped them.
“Five millions of crowns?” he gasped.
“Yes; what would your Majesty say to such a proposition?” complacently.