“I wonder what that dare-devil is up to,” thought Edestone. Nevertheless he believed that Lawrence would accomplish his purpose.
Presently his attention was attracted by the beams of a searchlight crossing the window, and looking out he saw those great white arms stretching up from every part of the city.
“They expect me to show my teeth tonight,” he said.
The distant tapping of drums showed that troops were moving in all parts of Berlin, and they were beginning to form in the streets below. It was easy to see by which route the Emperor was coming, or at least by which route he wished the people to think he was going to arrive.
Edestone dressed hurriedly, although James seemed to think that something extra should be done.
“Beg pardon, sir,” he pleaded in an accent which would have meant imprisonment for him if heard on the streets outside, “but these here barbarians likes a bit of colour, sir. I understands as how the Emperor calls the Ambassador the ‘undertaker,’ sir, and it’s all on account, sir, of his not a-having any lace on his coat, sir. Don’t you think you might wear some of your Colonial Society medals and decorations, sir?” and he tried hard to hide his contempt for these American signs of alleged aristocracy. “There is some as is bright in colour, sir, and he wouldn’t know, sir, but as how you is a duke in America, sir.”
“None of that nonsense, James, unless,” he said with a quizzical look, “you give me the copy of the Golden Fleece, which shows that I am a member in good standing of the South Chicago Aero Club.”
“Not that one, sir,” protested James, “if you will pardon me, sir, I think it is a bit large, sir, for the waistcoat opening, sir. I think, sir, that the Order of the Cincinnati is very neat, sir. It is very much like one of the Greek Orders, I don’t recall which, sir, but Lord Knott wore it once, I recall, sir, when the King of Greece was in London, sir.”
“No, James,” Edestone shook his head. “My father was a blacksmith, and I would not like to deceive the Emperor.”
“How you do like your little joke, sir,” said James, putting his hand to his mouth. “Won’t you just use that button, sir, instead of a buttonhole? It ain’t so frivolous like, sir, begging your pardon, sir.”