“And I have vair important business,” said Schwab eagerly.
“I think my arrangement is best, sir. You see, your position is a matter of state importance—international importance, I might say; all Europe is more or less interested in your fate, whereas——”
“Ach!” interrupted Schwab, “zey insult me, ze Mohrs; me, a Jarman sobjeck; zerefore zey insult also our Kaiser, who is in Berlin. Zat is important.”
“With all respect to your Kaiser, Mr. Schwab,” said Tom, “we are three to one here, and I think the interests of the majority must prevail.”
“But ze population of Jarmany is grosser zan ze population of Great Britain. Ve grow vair fast.”
“Therefore your Kaiser can spare one individual better than our King. We must settle it so, Mr. Schwab. We’ll take Sir Mark to the yacht and then come back for you—as we have already done.”
“But if you forget—vere am I zen? Mr. Greatorex is business man, perhaps he vant to make haste for home. Besides, you try to keep ze secret of ze Photographic Sensitizer Preparation Number Six. I discover ze secret. You vant to keep me out, so zat I shall not take out patent for Schlagintwert. Zat is business!”
“You may take my word for it that we’ll come back for you,” said Tom patiently. Oliphant was fuming: Sir Mark Ingleton was quietly enjoying the situation. “And here’s Abdul.” The young Moor at this moment came over the brow of the hill. “Perhaps he will stay and keep you company.”
“I have enough gombany of ze Mohrs,” said Schwab dismally. “Give notice, I shall have big claim for damage. Ze loss of business is colossal.”
“You’ll make it up when you put your Photographic Sensitizer Preparation Number Six on the market under a new name. Abdul, you will stay with Mr. Schwab until we get back?”