But Edestone did not smile, he was glancing at another of the slips.
“Ah,” he said in a sad voice, “I seem to have killed about one thousand people last night.”
“Still,” argued Lawrence, “that was not as large a percentage of the German Empire as they killed of your little kingdom.”
“No,” granted Edestone; “and as long as they insist upon treating me as an outlaw I will be one so far as they are concerned. I will now go and see if my ultimatum is prepared. I am undecided as to whether I will send it by wireless or by a messenger.”
Lawrence finished his breakfast and while he sat in the loggia smoking his cigar and looking down over the city, he decided to ask permission to carry the message to the Emperor himself. The idea delighted him, and he pictured exactly how he would walk and speak his lines like the prince in the story book. He only regretted that he was not to be dressed up in spangles, like the heralds of old, and have the triumphal march from Aïda played by trumpeters from the Metropolitan Opera House who would precede him in their brand-new Cammeyer sandals and badly fitting tights but he decided that if said trumpeters were obliged to read sheet music he would not allow them to wear glasses. He was just making up his mind what he would say to the Emperor when Wilhelm fell on his knees and begged him to intercede for him, as Edestone came in, and blasted all these glowing dreams with a word.
“Well, it is done,” he said, “and I have given them until one o’clock to answer.”
Lawrence was then formally introduced to “Specs” under his title of Admiral Page, to Captain Lee, and the officers, and he spent one of the most delightful days of his life, so much interested in what he saw that he entirely forgot that he was a pirate, waiting to destroy a peaceable city if it did not do his bidding.
Edestone had settled himself down for a quiet day of waiting, and Lawrence amused himself by inspecting every part of the ship and talking with all on board from the oil men to the Admiral.
“Admiral Page,” he inquired, “where do you keep the Deionizer?”
At which “Specs” peeped at him with a suspicious glance through his thick glasses. “Has Mr. Edestone spoken to you of that?” he asked.