The King informed his grace's steward, a gentleman with a bald head and a very conventional aspect, who awaited us in the entrance hall to see us safely off the premises, that he would like to write his name in the visitors' book. Unaware of the identity of Ferdinand the Twelfth and by no means approving of the general trend of our conversation, the steward said with cold politeness that he feared the visitors' book was only used by his grace's guests.
The King took up a piece of red pencil that lay on a writing-table.
"We will write on the wall," he said, blandly.
The steward was shocked and scandalised, but no heed was paid to his protests. The King wrote his name on the wall in bold and firm English characters, immediately beneath Lely's portrait of the founder of the family.
This accomplished, the King gave the pencil to his daughter, who inscribed her name also. She in turn gave it to the Chancellor, who followed her example. He then gave the pencil to Mrs. Arbuthnot.
That lady coloured with embarrassment, but at the King's express desire she wrote her name too; and when it came to the turn of the Conservative member for that part of the county he had no alternative but to obey the royal command.
Our names duly appeared on the wall in the following order:
Ferdinand Rex
Sonia
Von Schalk
Irene Arbuthnot
Nevil Fitzwaren
Odo Arbuthnot, M.P.
Upon the completion of this act of vandalism, the Victor of Rodova turned to the steward.
"Haf the goodness to inform his grace," he said, "that the King of Illyria accepts entire responsibility for the writing on the wall. It is the writing on the wall for him and for his country."