The diplomat performing the duties of deputy-head of the Empire is tall, inclined to corpulence, grey moustached and bright eyed. He knocked his heels together like a recruit trembling before the drill-ground bully. "Majesty refers to Fraulein Krupp?"
"Quite correct."
"She has the benefit of Majesty's personal guidance—there's no more to be said," declared von Bülow, with conviction. "But who may number two be?"
"Not quite the figurehead of number one. I refer to the gentleman coming to see you."
"The Archduke? I was going to beg your Majesty for instructions concerning His Imperial Highness."
"Plain Franz Este, if you please; his incognito must be taken very literally."
"At your Majesty's orders."
"He is number two," emphasised Wilhelm; and while pretending to look out of the window replaced his left hand, which had slipped, upon the hilt of his sword. Then, fully accoutred, he resumed: "Number one furnishes my arms—
"And those of the world," put in the Chancellor.
"That's where you and all of you are mistaken. My gun works arming my enemies? As intimated, number one helps to disarm my enemies."