"Let's look at 'old Fritz' again," said the War Lord, after refreshments. Unlike Charles V., the War Lord is never awakened during the night to swallow some favourite dish, but five meals a day are his rule, and to revive his animal spirits he takes a number of raw eggs in a glass of cognac after the slightest exertion, when at home, i.e. at his own expense, while more substantial and elaborate provision is expected at friends' houses.
At Villa Huegel he is never disappointed. Even if he brought those "forty scientist friends" he once imposed upon Dom Carlos of Portugal, poor man!—indeed, even if he asked Frau Krupp to lodge and feed a whole regiment of gold-laced or fringe-trousered nobodies or impostors, there would be the most generous response on her part and no questions asked.
"When I heard you were coming, Uncle Majesty, I planned a little surprise," said Bertha, when showing the War Lord a short cut to "old Fritz's" habitat. She led the way to a section of the armour-plate department, whose employés burst into feverish activity at their approach. No doubt they were expected.
"Eighty tons," said Bertha, pointing towards the huge crucible steel block being placed under a giant hydraulic press.
"How will you move a cannon of that size?" queried the War Lord, who is liable to get his figures mixed.
"But it is not going to be a cannon, Uncle Majesty," explained the mistress of the works.
"You are going to roll it out into an armour-plate for Chimborazo, then?"
"Once more Uncle Majesty is pleased to be mistaken."
"Maybe it's a statue of England's lord high admiral you are making?"
"Burning," said the smiling Bertha; "it has something to do with the sea."